Watching Yute (34 page)

“
Cass, on the whole
vengeance trail thing. I mean, I get it, Aguei stuff. But this is
one… wouldn’t this kind of thing be better handled by a regular
investigation, without a spear wielding griever on the front
lines?”

“
I trust Armil,” Cipriana
said, “If he feels it’s the way to the best result, he has his
reasons.”

“
Yeah, well, what I asked
was, do you think it’s a good idea? Besides, Cass has only been
Aguei for a short time, primarily only by honours. I’m a full
blooded Aguei, and I don’t get this shit.”

Cipriana sighed. “At least it gives her
something to do that feels constructive.”

~~~~~

:::C /35

~~~~~

“
BURN” The computer set
about its task, and Kirison leaned back to wait.

That damned Jonathan Coll. There were
more than a few guys attached to AutarLabs and Lancer who liked to
have a little unofficial fun with nanites, but it was all harmless
stuff. All harmless until Coll decided to go psycho with it all.
Two damned cities worth of people. Poof.

From that perspective, it was hard to
blame the government for setting huge kneejerk laws. But as usual,
the government wasn’t educated about new tech well enough to make
even-handed decisions on it all. If they had been more patient,
Kirison’s pet project could have revolutionized espionage, and a
pile of other applications.

But no, instead he’s now scrambling to
save his own ass from surprise laws, and one teeny error in
judgment about where to deploy a test scenario. It seemed like a
good idea at the time. To make it worse, now there were deaths
involved. It made him all the more glad that he had been injecting
himself with his 'insurance policy'...

Kirison’s idle pondering was
interrupted by the computer ejecting the freshly created disk. On
it was a polite little program. A virus, but not an especially
nasty one. It would act without the user’s knowledge. When it did,
it would send an email to the army and police. A tale of
Horad.

That bastard didn’t have to kill
people. That wasn’t the plan. He was given everything he needed to
get in and out quick and quiet. Kirison gave him the power to be
unseen by infra red, and to summon a huge fucking
sandstorm!

In hindsight, Kirison decided he should
have gone himself. He could have saved himself all that bar
scrounging, the nano-cockfight, meeting the mob. He wouldn’t have
had to carve those stupid little wooden token things. He should
have just gone to the temple himself.

Of course, there was still the chance
that he would have been caught or killed in the process. Maybe
Horad did have reason to kill. But it’s not like Horad was any boy
scout before.

Horad needed to go down. For society.
Yes.

Kirison knew that if this disk were
left somewhere public, someone was bound to take the bait and run
it on a computer that couldn’t ever be linked to him. It was a fair
deal. The user would get what they expected from the label, and
even if the email were traced back to that machine, they probably
wouldn’t even connect it to the disk.

He planned to place it at a bus stop
near a high school. In such a place, he wagered to himself that the
secret email would be quietly launched within half a day at most.
More likely an hour or two.

Just in case, he carefully wiped the
disk down to remove any fingerprints before labeling it. He got out
a marker and wrote in big tempting letters:

“
PORN”

~~~~~

:::C /36

~~~~~

Armil’s airlimb pushed itself up off
the helipad slowly, carrying the weight of Cassidy’s disposition.
Armil himself was no longer on board, he had other things to attend
to. It was odd to think of somehow, even though Cassidy knew he
didn’t live in the airlimb

She sat in the main loading bay with
one of the soldiers. She sat here because she didn’t really feel at
home here. She didn’t feel like going any farther into the airlimb
if she didn’t have to.

She’d also rather be alone, but she
wasn’t eager to engage the soldier in any conversation either.
Sure, he’d leave if she asked. He might open the door and toss out
all his clothes if she asked, as the holder of the big honkin’
sacred bullshit spear.

She cringed when he eventually broke
the silence. “Sir, did anyone show you your private
quarters?”

“
Hm? No. It can
wait.”

“
Well, you should know that
aside from the few possessions you brought onboard, there’s also a
few outfits you can choose from, if you wish.”

“
Outfits??”

“
Your size, I
believe.”

“
What kind of
outfits!?”

“
Well, Sir, aside from a few
extra sets of your fatigues, I took the initiative to get you a
civilian suit with pants or skirt, and a dress uniform, since I
didn’t think you had one.”

“
What the heck do I need a…
oh. Duh, sorry.” Cheryl’s funeral. Everyone just wore their usual
duty uniforms to Marcus’ ceremony. She decided on the spot to go
with one of the civilian suits. She wasn’t going as Cheryl’s
sister-in-arms. This was much more personal. She wished she could
be alone there, too.

The others from the base weren’t
invited. The family wanted to keep the funeral small. Close family
only. Cassidy was honoured to be invited on that basis, but at the
same time, it might have been nice to have Maxine around, or Cip.
Well. Maybe not Cip. Cip had her own loss to worry about, and
besides, she was… different now. Damn it, she just wanted things to
be like they were the day before the first attack.

She snapped out of her drifting
thoughts. “Uh, soldier, are you my personal butler or something?
Not to seem ungrateful for the… wardrobe upgrade.”

He chucked a bit. “Generally I work in
ops, but that's secondary right now. I am assigned to you
specifically. Anything you need, it’s my job to get it.”

Cassidy shook her head slowly and
sighed. “How about fifty liters of vodka?”

He smirked. “Sorry Sir, you’ll have to
wait until we resupply.”

“
Alright then. Hey what’s
your name anyway?”

He gave a casual salute. “Sergeant
Keith Dixon, Sir.”

“
You’re the one that gave me
my seventeen, right?”

“
Yes Sir. Is it alright? For
you, I bet I could acquisition pretty much anything.”

Cassidy shook her head. “Nah, I hate
all guns equally. I just thought it’d be prudent to have one. Oh,
and I think we had the ‘Sir’ discussion before, but if I just keep
calling you ‘Keith’, will you call me ‘Cass’?”

“
You can try,
Sir.”

Cassidy groaned quietly. “Keith, you’re
a smartass.”

“
Yes, Sir.”

Cassidy closed her eyes and sat
quietly, just listening to the engines. Keith made himself busy,
not far away. Cassidy guessed he was trying to give her space while
remaining available for orders.

After a while, the sounds of the
engines and Keith’s busy work started to irritate her. “Keith. This
loading bay smells like a loading bay. Ya may as well show me those
quarters.”

“
Yes, Sir.” Keith led
Cassidy to a room, not that it was hard to find. An airlimb is a
big aircraft, but it made for a pretty darn small dormitory. The
door opened to a plain, regulatory looking room- aside from a rack
on one wall that looked like it was meant for a spear.

Cassidy stepped in, glanced at the
bunk, footlocker, closet… “Kay, Keith. Thanks. Uh, dismissed. If I
need you, I’ll yell down the hall or something.”

“
Right, Sir.”

Nice enough guy, but she was glad to be
rid of him. She flopped down on the bed and yanked her hat brim
down harder. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the closet.
Pantsuit or dress suit? Ehh, she should fight off the apathy to get
up and check them out. The skirt would be a hard sell
though.

She stared at the closet, and thought
how she had never seen Cheryl in a skirt. She was incredible in
shorts. She must have been mind blowing in the right
skirt.

Cassidy grabbed the pillow and held it
tight, gritting her teeth. How many years of Cheryl had she been
robbed of? Forty? Fifty? Her grip tightened, and she wished that
her nails would rip through the pillow.

Her personal terminal chirped to life
with a timid little ring, oblivious to how close it risked being
thrown against the wall. Cassidy took a breath, and dug out the
terminal to read the caller name.

“
Brandy Wicklow”. Great, the
ex. Just what she needed. She glared at the terminal as it
continued to ring, wishing that her “fuck off and leave me alone”
glare would somehow reach Brandy without having to
answer.

The ringing stopped. Alright, maybe her
glare did have that power. It must be the hat. She knew she liked
her hat for a reason. Obviously the brim, when pulled down to just
the right position, focused her glare into a magical “fuck off”
beam.

“
Blipipip!” it chimed.
“Missed call: Brandy - Message waiting” Damn. No magic glare. She’s
going to have to work on it. She didn’t want to listen to the
message, but she may as well talk to her, just to nip it in the
bud. She called Brandy, who picked up fairly quickly, and her face
popped up on screen.

“
Cass!”

Cassidy’s voice came out so tired
sounding that it surprised them both. “Whaaaat, what, what, what,
what, what?”

“
Damn, Cass. You look like
it’s been a hell of a day.”

“
What makes you say that? I
was just thinking to myself how I felt like the magical princess of
the universe.”

“
Okay, princess. Did you
know your ‘tiara’ is like a mood barometer?”

Cassidy pulled her hat’s brim down so
that all Brandy could see was Cassidy’s chin. “It’s not too
effective. Attempts to display an accurate reading mess up my
ponytail. But back to the point. Whaaaat?”

“
Just calling to check up on
you. Where the heck are you?”

“
I’m on the flying Aguei
popemobile, okay?” She left the terminal on the bed, and went over
to the closet. “Why exactly do you care so much huh? Are you
looking for a rebound, or what?” With a hopelessly wrecked
ponytail, she took off her hat and tossed it at the terminal, in
the hopes it might irritate Brandy.

Brandy sighed. “Cass, don’t be an
idiot. I’m allowed to give a damn, alright?”

Cassidy loosened her hair for later
re-tying as she walked over to the terminal on the bed. She tipped
it so Brandy could see the closet area. “Whatever. Shut up or make
yourself useful and gimmie some advice.” She turned her back to the
terminal to go through the closet.

“
Sure, wear your hair loose
more often.”

“
Not about that.”

“
The other thing I was going
to say was less tasteful.”

“
Crazy bitch.” Cassidy
muttered with mild exasperation. She turned around with the two
black suits held up. “I have this happy cheery event later today. I
have my option of the pantsuit,” as she held it up against herself.
“Or, here we have,” she held the dress suit out and looked at it
for a split second before scoffing, and putting it back in the
closet. “Pantsuit it is.”

“
You needed me for
that?”

“
Not really.”

“
Well then, take my earlier
suggestion about the hair.”

Cassidy flipped Brandy the bird, and
started tying her hair back again. “A low ponytail is classier.
Loose hair is just for…”

“
Ah, yes.”

Cassidy stared into the blackness of
the pantsuit, and became lost. She slowly tightened her grip on the
fabric, and started sliding against the closet door, towards the
floor.

“
Cassidy. Hello? Snap out of
it.”

Cassidy eventually came to be seated on
the floor, still holding the suit. “No. Don’t wanna.” She looked
into the blackness some more. “She’s dead, you know.” She said
softly.

Brandy looked down and sighed. “I know,
Cass.”

“
She died. She was killed.
By some coward.”

“
I know.”

“
They told me to find him. I
get to kill him.”

“
What?” Brandy
shouted.

“
With a big spear. Aguei
thing.”

“
What are you talking
about?”

Cassidy jumped up with a sudden
resurgence of energy, and brought the beast spear's tip close to
the terminal. “This.” She explained abruptly. ”This goes into the
chest of the fucking bastard who killed the angel I wanted to spend
the rest of my life with.”

“
Are you
serious!?”

“
Look it up on the net or
something. I have a funeral to get ready for.” Cassidy hung up on
Brandy, and tossed the terminal aside. Enough of the pointless
chatter. She stood stoically for a while, almost at attention with
the spear, tapping her finger on it so that Cheryl’s ring tapped on
it.