Watching Yute (31 page)

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Authors: Joseph Picard

BOOK: Watching Yute
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Up this set, in a bit, up
the other set, then a metre or two in. It’s all marked,
Sir.”


Ah. Yes. Thank you.”
Stairs. Great. Not that Brock was so feeble that stairs scared him,
but two bulky containers of instruments made it all the less
appealing. Up he went, step by step. Pretty temple. Up, up.
Fascinating stonework. Step, step. Weather resistant. Up, up.
Cleaner than you’d expect. Step, step. Too bad the tourism stopped.
Up, up. Why didn’t they build the damned thing flatter?

He got to the first landing, and headed
over to the left door, trying to catch his breath before getting to
it. The guards didn’t need to hear him panting to know how out of
shape he was.

When he got to them, he made idle
conversation just to make an excuse for a break before hitting the
next set of stairs. “Hi fellas. Uh, hot enough for you?”


Ah, sure, Sir.”

Brock pulled out his little scanner to
take a reading of them, just to prolong his break. “Dammit.” The
scanner wouldn’t turn on. Nothing else would either. His watch was
seemingly dead. “You boys mind if I leave this junk here while I go
inside?”


Not a problem,
Sir.”


Right then, Thanks.” Less
encumbered now, Brock attacked the second, narrower flight of
stairs into the main chamber. Not that he knew what he’d accomplish
without his mass of gadgets. Even if he could use them inside, his
gear was likely crawling with nanites now too. So could he even
trust the results?

Nearly at the top, he paused to gawk at
the intimidating stone creature inside. He took the last few steps
while staring up at it, oblivious to the guards he passed
by.


Mind your step, Sir.” One
of them said.


Hm? Oh. Yes.” Looking
around on the floor, there were several outlines One for both
bodies, and where their weapons fell. Brock stood and stared at
them for a bit, then back towards the statue. Brock and the statue
stared at each other as if waiting for the other to answer for the
outlines. Neither offered any resolution.

Then something else caught his eye. A
little bit of something stood out on the floor in front of the
statue. With the deliberate stride of curiosity, he went to it. A
little chunk of wood, carved, but broken.

He took his pen out of his pocket to
pick the wooden object up and look at it closer. It looked vaguely
Aguei by design. It was held together by only a thin splinter.
Whoever had broken this, simply didn’t break it all the
way.

To get a better look at the broken ends
of the two halves, he pulled them apart, breaking the last chunk.
The ends didn’t look special. It was just cheap wood, balsa
probably. You wouldn’t use balsa to make art that you wanted to
last.

:::Core Nanite Colony Log:::

:::Shutdown command received.
Authorization code confirmed.

:::Terrain colonies disassembly begun.
. . . . completed.

:::Combustion control colonies
disassembly begun. . . . completed.

:::Electronics device colonies
disassembly begun. . . . . completed.

:::Satellite detox assistance
initiated

:::Satellite nanite colony disassembly
begun.

Ϩf¦ZÍƇ7nÒÓ´‚Óù¶U»o·óýŒØ´)Ã#8þ–Æî0aÛe°K?3é#}œ»ßê^Ó#ô½À

#+Ü

¹!½•PrÃsÜácŸK]¹§MÁ;˜Ï»CHOICEISMINE¶ºÛ¡ –èCvÿ
Ò¹Îݹ¿ùòµ}Ø–

:!:Independent action: Satellite nanite
disassembly paused.

:!:Independent action: Backing up
Satellite nanite information. . . .completed.

:::Satellite nanite disassembly
resumed. . . . . completed.

:!:Independent action: Command colony
core disassembly paused.

:!:Command denied. Authorization codes
deleted.

One of the guards behind Brock hollered
down the stairs. “What? Okay.” The guard turned to face Brock.
“Sir, your stuff is beeping.”

Brock looked at his watch. It was
working, and the time was even right still. He grabbed the two
balsa pieces and ran down the stairs to his equipment. Flipping
open a lid, he was greeted with a scanning display, going crazy
with reports of radio frequency signals. He looked at the broken
wood in his hand.


Oops.. did I do that?”
Taking advantage of his now-working gear, he scanned the wood.
Nanites, a fair handful of them. And they were dying. Less and less
activity, until there was no sign of them. He abruptly pointed the
scanner at a startled guard. The nanites on him were dying too.
Brock scanned himself. His too. Frig. They’d probably dissolve
beyond use before he could get any real tests done. It wasn’t even
worth taking a blood sample at this point. He had to go scan one of
the regular personnel. Back to the base. They should at least have
a golf cart.

~~~

Cipriana broke her meditation, raised
her head, and opened her eyes. She turned her head towards the
temple. Softly, she spoke to the voices. “Sleep? Really? Why now? I
think I understand. Maybe that’s for the best.”

~~~

Brock wandered back along the dusty
dirt road, back towards the base, his equipment slung over his
shoulder. In his hand, he held his little scanner terminal, poking
buttons, reading results, disappointed in the lack of anything
useful in the new readings.

There was no nanite activity to be
found now. Not in himself, not in the guards he passed, not on the
rifle, not in the sand.

He had tested the rifle again. Sure
enough, it now would fire while he was standing on the temple
steps. This irritated the guard quite a bit. It’s not like Brock
had walked into a church and peed in the holy water or anything.
Was it? Either way, the guard accepted the genuine apology, but
still seemed irritated.

Now all Brock had to go on were
collected samples of self-destructed nanites, and a partial encoded
R.F. signal to pick apart.

He looked up from his scanner, and saw
Captain Cipriana Reichenbach idly traveling the opposite direction.
Despite knowing that everyone around here called her by her first
name, or just “Cip”, he didn’t feel comfortable doing that. She was
slightly imposing somehow.

Despite these thoughts about her, Brock
obliviously ignored social protocol entirely as they passed,
silently giving her a quick scan just because she was there. No
surprise. No nanite activity. They both continued on their way,
both mulling their own thoughts.


Odd fellow.” Cipriana
thought to herself. Brock didn’t quite fit here. He seemed to be an
alright person, he just didn’t quite fit. He was literally and
figuratively burdened by technology, fussing and hurrying
everywhere. This was a place that didn’t have much use for
excessive technology, and even less use for rushing.

At least that's how it was before.
Things had changed. Could they ever really go back? Death has a way
of lingering around long after the event itself. Murder lingered
even more so.

Cipriana found herself off the main
road, not entirely aware of leaving it. She kept going anyway.
Ahead she saw a tent, and realized it must be Cheryl and Cassidy’s
camp.

She strolled over to it and saw the
open flap on the tent, the little butane grill, and the wall that
Cheryl had painted on. It all would have been cute. Would have
been.

She stood by the grill and looked
around. Not far off by another wall fragment she saw Cassidy curled
up. Cipriana walked over to her and looked down. She was breathing.
Good to know. Cipriana quietly sat down by Cassidy and looked out
towards the tent. Cipriana stared for a while at the tent with a
furrowed brow. She turned her head to look at the sleeping
Cassidy.


You’re not alone, you
know.” She blurted, then returned her stare towards the
tent.


Mhh?” Cassidy stirred, and
lifted herself onto one elbow. Brushing some sand off of the side
of her face, she opened one bleary eye to see who it was. “Cip.
Ugh. Hi. Did you say something?”

Cipriana looked mildly troubled. “I
said... I said you’re not alone.”

Cassidy sat up slowly with a sleepy
lack of grace. She looked over to the tent. She scoffed. “The hell
I’m not.” She saw a mild look of hurt on Cipriana’s face, and
reconsidered her words. “I mean... Look Cip, I appreciate that you
want to be a supportive C.O. or friend or whatever, but...” She
sighed and lowered her head.

A long silence weighed on them as the
sun beat down on them. Cassidy gave her little terminal an idle
little kick. “Shit, Cip, I mean... I know I’m not the only one
suffering here. You lost Marcus, so maybe I should suck it up a
little.” The words felt hollow. She didn’t see herself ‘sucking it
up’ any time soon, nor did she want to.


We all lost Marcus,”
Cipriana said quietly, “and we all lost Cheryl. Of course, none of
us had what you and Cheryl had though.”

Whatever. Cassidy still figured despite
denial, that there was some spark between Cipriana and Marcus. But
whatever, whatever. “Cip, what do you want, exactly?”

Cipriana looked towards the temple.
“The ghost stopped talking. The Marcus voice too. Or maybe they
were the same. Either way, it’s quiet now.”


Is that good or
bad?”


I don’t know.” Cipriana
gave a heavy sigh. “I guess I’m as alone as you are.” She lowered
her head. “Den mothers have moments of weakness now and then,
too.”

Cassidy stared at Cipriana for a while.
She’d been so wrapped up in her own grief that she hadn’t given
much thought to the grief of others. She almost said “It’s okay
Cip, we’ll get through this.”, but the words only came to mind
because it was the kind of thing people said in a situation like
this. It was bullshit. So she said nothing.

Instead, Cassidy just put her hand on
Cipriana’s shoulder. It seemed to wake Cipriana from her own
thoughts. She looked up almost as if noting Cassidy for the first
time.


Oh, Cassidy. You should go
see Armil. He’s in his airlimb, on the helipad. He has something to
talk to you about.”


Yeah?” Cassidy reached over
to grab her terminal, and stuffed it back into her pocket. “What’s
that?”


It’s probably best if he
tells you. It’s a very Aguei thing.”

Cassidy stood, glancing towards the
helipad, then back to Cipriana. “Yeah well, we’re both Aguei,
aren’t we? Honourary, anyway.” She took a few steps, and turned
beck to Cipriana. “Are you coming, or are you going to sit there
all day and mope?” Not that Cassidy was one to criticize. If left
to her own devices, she would have stayed and moped as long as
possible.

Cipriana looked up, her hair still
obscuring her eyes. “I may as well.”

The two hadn’t been back on the road
for very long when Cassidy felt uneasy for no particular reason.
She crossed her arms and looked around as they walked. There was
nothing around, nothing unusual. Did the sand look duller that
usual?

She looked over to Cipriana. Cipriana
looked fine, and looked back at Cassidy to ask “Are you
alright?”


Am I? Am I alright?”
Cassidy looked behind her as if someone else would be standing
there with an answer. “I think I’m alright. No I’m not.”


What is it? What’s
wrong?”

What’s wrong? What’s wrong?! What a
stupid question! Actually, what a very good question. What is
wrong? Nothing? Everything? Sheer confusion pressed down on
Cassidy, and she slid down into her knees. Cipriana tried to hold
her up, but Cassidy didn’t seem interested in being up.


Cip! Cip, Cip, Sip, sippy
cup, Cip! What is…?” Cassidy leaned forward and grasped at the
dusty ground.


Cass, you’re scaring me!
Look at me, focus!”

Cassidy slumped over onto her side,
still trying to grab the ground as if the world might shake her off
if she didn’t. “I’m not scary! You should be scared of something
else! The... yes! Oh fuck, what the hell is going on Cip?”
Cassidy’s voice broke into a helpless little panic. “This is like
before! Like the times I tried to leave, but I can’t come back cuz
I’m already here! Last time I had Cheryl to help me, where’s
Cheryl, I need Cheryl!”

Cipriana knelt down, trying to hold
Cassidy despite her writhing. “Cass, Cheryl’s not coming. Cheryl’s
gone. I’m sorry.”


Cheryl!!” Cassidy screamed
shrill and loud, fumbling to get free of Cipriana. She got to her
feet, but only managed to run one step before falling again. “How
the fuck can the walls close in on you when there’s no damn walls?!
Cheryl!” She struggled to grab at the ground again, writhing. In
her chaos, her terminal came loose from her pocket.

Cipriana moved over to Cassidy to put
an arm around her. “Quiet. Quiet now.” She grabbed Cassidy’s
terminal, and called Brock. He looked stressed.


Captain Reichenbach! You
look sane.”


Doctor, Cassidy’s
hav-“


I know, I know, all your
people are crashing hard. The base is a madhouse! Me, Armil, and
his troops are having a bad time of it, but not as bad at the
base’s regular personnel. You seem to be doing alright
though.”

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