"Corporations don't get the heat you think they do- Nor as much as they should. In these few short years, the one thing that's done more damage than the Anties can't even be traced back to anyone. And that's because it's designed not to. These 'Contractors' and 'Holding' companies are absolutely insane. Oh sure, they claim to be unaffiliated, neutral, parties that are out to do blah-blah-blah-blah. But that's a fucking lie! These so called agencies are literally set up by the biggest wigs of the corpo suits to handle all the dirty work. It's a sham! It's a cover-up on a cover-up! I'm sick of it!"
- Anonymous interview during the Corporate Overreach protest, 2040
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Miss?
Val groans and immediately regrets it. Her throat is parched beyond words. Her entire neck is screaming with tension and aches. A splitting migraine and a rough soreness around her eyes complete the picture of misery… At least from the shoulders up. She would get to the rest later.
Val? Can you hear me? You’re vitals suggest- Oh never mind. Blink if you can hear me.
The haggard shell of a woman blinks once, then keeps her eyes closed. She did not like that blinding light she caught a glimpse of.
Oh! Good! Great even. I was so worried. You’re neural fucntions are so- Nevermind-Nevermind. You’re conscious. One step at a time. I need to warn you about your current… location?
[Please don’t tell me there are bugs in hell.] Her internal monologue seems to go unnoticed.
The military has picked you up. You were rapidly evac’d to their nearby compound as the Incursion began. But you are currently in a holding cell for debrief- err, well. Interrogation. More than likely.
[Why? I’m not a bug.]
You’re probably asking why. I am really sorry, I can’t read your mind. And without any augmentations, we can’t communicate without you speaking- Which! Heheh, please don’t. Everything is being recorded, I’m sure. So, please just rest for now. I am doing the best that I can within current limitations.
[Again, why? There’s nothing left…]
Minutes tick by with no reply. Val can feel an anxious burble in her mind that doesn’t belong to her. Just like before. She’ll have to chock it up to the panicked little fae-like thing that has possessed her thoughts.
A few muttered ‘hrrm’ and staticy ‘uhh’ sounds- Feelings, later…
I’ve tried to ping Sir Gybralton once again. I hope my message got through. But I still cannot receive any reply. Maybe we-
*ka-chick
The sound of a door latch causes Val to startle. Her eyes snap open to asses the threat, and immediately give away any hopes of hiding. She’s also suddenly aware that she is strapped into the heavy metal chair. She must have been sleeping upright like this for a while. No wonder her neck hurts.
A man of decidedly short stature makes his way into the room and closes the door behind him. Pockmarks dot his face where burns darken or scar bleach his ruddy skin. His hair is all brownish grey, short cut on top but grown out into his beard and mustache. He wears a taupe button down with the sleeves rolled up past his heavy forearms. In the bricks he must call hands, is a simple folder that seems as thin from lack up substance as Valentyna. “Good. Thought’cha might be awake. Saw yer heart rate spike.” He makes his way to the other side of the table that sits just out of Val’s reach. It crosses at his waist and make it look like he’s sitting in the included chair, but clearly he’s not. “Name’s Commander McDurmound. Head of the Recurrent Incursion Investigation task force. RII for short.”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
The Commander drops the folder to the table and flips it open. The single page on the inside gets spun around and pushed towards Val. “Seeing as you don’t have any visual augs, thought it’d be considerate to print this out for you.” He offers a genuine smile that’s clearly more worry than smile. “So,” he places both hands down to lean onto the table’s surface. “Enough about me. Mind tellin’ me about you?”
Please do not tell him anything. It’s for the best. We need a Vanguard representative right away.
Val can’t even hope to read the page. “[Even if I had my glasses, I can’t read that.]”
“[Oh! You’re certainly right. My mistake.]” The Commander reaches up to tape at the side of his neck, just below his ear. When he opens his mouth to speak again, no sound comes out. At least, not into this room.
Val jolts at the retort in her language.
It’s auto translation dear. Don’t be alarmed. Everyone has it these days. It practically comes with a box of cereal so that they can make sure the ads are as widely viewed as possible.
The woman scowls at the idea.
McDurmound lowers his hand, now speaking to Val. “We’ll get you a proper set of glasses. Will just take a few minutes to fab. So, I’ll ask again, can you tell me about yourself?”
“I should be dead.”
Now it’s McDurmound’s turn to be caught of guard. “Ah. Well. Funny thing about that. We try our best to prevent that where possible. Sort of our job. Especially working with Vanguards.”
“I keep hearing that. What is this ‘Vanguard’? Huh?”
Well- I- You see… I tried to explain…
“Hmmm.” The man eyes them up and down suspiciously. “You should be familiar. The woman that saved you is one. Goes by the name Hazard. She also reports that you downed a Model 3, among other things. So, there is a chance you are too.” His eyes seem to constrict and rotated in a digital fashion.
Careful. His augments are scanning you. I am undetectable by human technology. But if he has secured higher class augments from a Vanguard themselves, he may know.
“You work with Hazard? Did you send her to kill us?”
Not the way I was hoping you would distract from the question. But, still good. I guess.
“Hmm? Hazard- No! No. Nothing like that. Hazard was on her own sanctioned mission. Which I can assure you was not at all involving you.” His fingers curl into fists on the table. “We’re getting off the subject. Tell me about you and that city of yours.” His eyes narrow. “Please.” He adds with no real hospitality.
“I don’t remember. I was young. You know? I just remember living there. If you could call that living.”
McDurmond sighs heavily and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Miss. We know that. The city fell 12 years ago. But, you’re clearly not twelve. So let’s have it, give me some real answers.”
“What answers do you want me to give? I didn’t have a calendar down there.”
You’re surprisingly good at this.
[Cults are not usually founded on truth… wait… you still can’t… for get it.]
“Talking with your AI friend?” the Command hisses.
“My what?” Val sneers the best she can. She lets her tone drop into that slavic rumble. “Any friends I had are dead. Apparently meals for worms now.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” His chest starts rise and fall as he puts more force behind his words. “Look, we have reports from Hazard’s AI that they were in communication with someone while the event was taking place. You can tell me the truth and we can move on, or we can sit here all day playing your little cat and mouse game.” He grins. “Why don’t you think about that while I go get a nice cup of coffee. You must be thirsty. How about I bring you a cool bottle of water, and maybe something to eat. What would you like?”
Val catches the undertone and rolls her eyes. “To go see my friends.” She snickers in that dark way. “As things are, time will do the work for me.”
McDurmound’s brow pushes down into a ball of wrinkles and frustration. “Fine. We’ll see how long that lasts.”
The door closes behind him with a bit more force than his entrance. When the painfully disinfected room is still once again. Val spits, “Cука.” But it’s without heart. She can’t remember how long she would normally go without much to eat. Father had just come back with fresh foods and clean water, she had her share. So, she probably has what? 3? Maybe 4 days?
Well. That… was certainly a way to handle the situation.
Val sighs, letting her head drop back. [A pillow and a bed? Now that would be something I’d sell my soul for…]
