by Drew Briney
Offering Vaya Sage a few more days to live for my own morbid curiosity could very well cost me a few months of setbacks but the risk is worth it. It’s extremely helpful technological data in my line of business.
As I suspected, I hear the door to our apartment open and close. It’s a bit far away so I have to strain to read Vaya Sage’s thoughts as he’s leaving to determine whether or not I need to intervene, request an additional errand or something. I’m pleasantly surprised. He’s sneaking out with the ZN5 unit to see if he can trace it. He knows it’s almost impossible to do that so I know he’s feeling desperate without tracing those emotions as well. He’s grasping at straws. The trip will also take him at least an hour and a half so that coincides perfectly with my visit with the Dark Uzzit.
I send him a message confirming our appointment and rendez-vous a few hundred yards from the castle, along the water’s edge next to a temporary stage for the jazz festival. I’m surprised when I almost immediately receive a response that he’ll be there earlier than expected.
Perfect.
Crowds will be significant even at this time of day and since we can both speak telepathically, we won’t need to worry about being overheard or recorded even if Vaya Sage has long distance recording devices - I haven’t discovered any despite my prodigious snooping habits but that doesn’t negate the possibility he’s picked something up and stashed it somewhere clever.
Although quite convenient for my meeting with the Dark Uzzit, this festival remains the single interest Vaya Sage and I genuinely share and it represents the deepest cutting disappointment both of us are suffering right now. We’re both missing much anticipated performances in our preparations to kill each other. I almost feel sorry for him about that since that was his biggest motivation to come to this particular location in the first place but it doesn’t take much self-reflection before I realize I’m projecting my own self-pity more than I’m exercising true empathy.
I hear a small band, perhaps a quintet, warming up outside the castle. I’m not usually big on trumpets but whoever’s testing the sound system tears at my attention. This guy’s got some serious chops so I’m excited to hear more, hopefully before I’m ensnared into a boring meeting with one of my least favorite persons on the planet. From previous festivals, I’d guess the band is nearly exactly half-way between the Chateau de Chillon and the conference center, but this one sounds closer.
I can’t control my impulsive desire to relax a little so I decide to indulge myself by joining the audience before meeting the Dark Uzzit so I slip on a longish skirt and a comfy but not particularly flattering top so I don’t attract unwanted attention. I slip on some tasteless sandals Ji Anna had before this trip. Involuntarily, I scowl a bit as I look at their design. They’re undeniably comfy and they fit my intentions perfectly but that doesn’t make them any less tawdry. I shrug my shoulders, modify my focus as the horn player climaxes with a high note run that blows my mind - and that’s saying a lot. I usually don’t enjoy shrill notes but this guy is doing some new sound that nearly makes me think he’s digitally altering whatever he’s playing. One way or another, it’s totally boss so I start hurrying out the door, anxious to hear it better when I join the audience.
It doesn’t take long before I sense the Dark Uzzit scanning the crowd for my presence. I like to toy with people and he’s still earlier than anticipated so I try to block him from finding me telepathically while reading his mind at the same time. Disappointingly, I fail at the endeavor. I’m not too surprised given my current situation but I’m grumpy over the development nonetheless. In a couple months, I’ll be on top of the game. For now—
Where are you? he inquires with a telltale blandness that sets him apart from other telepaths I’ve met.
I sigh. While wishing I could enjoy the gig without any distractions for at least a song or two, I begrudgingly send him images of my intended location, along with a brief glimpse of myself from the mirror before I left the castle a few minutes previous. I take great effort not to share my emotions from seeing myself in the mirror. It’s completely irrelevant to the issue at hand and it could expose a chink in my psychological armor I’m not willing to reveal. At least, not on purpose. For all I know, he doesn’t know I’m new to this body. That’s the last thing I want to divulge to a man as powerful as him.
He’s answering my images with words. I’ll be there soon. I’m on the boardwalk, near the conference center.
Roger. I chuckle. He’s so bland, matter-of-fact. Boring. Too many people need to learn how to enjoy life more, revel in every moment. You’d think he’d have learned this by now. After all, it’s been at least a good century since I modified his body and inadvertently rendered it quasi-immortal. If he hasn’t learned to enjoy life by now, he never will.
As I walk to the rendez-vous, I begin to feel anxious. It’s an emotion I’ve learned to bury quite well in previous bodies. This one, however, seems overly prone to snuggle up to this pesky sensation at every opportunity. It takes great effort but I master the feeling and remind myself that my plan is essentially foolproof. I’ve got this.
Sooner than I’d like, I spot the Dark Uzzit and absorb his less than charming demeanor slithering through the crowd like the viper he is. Poisonous, deadly, and indiscriminate. I’m glad he owes me a favor.
Hello.
He’s spotted me now. I’m impressed by how quickly he recognizes me from far away, wonder whether or not his psionic powers continue to grow, what he may have learned since our last meeting. I silently wonder whether or not he remembers the terms to our agreement. I have them on permanent retention through my AI but a normal, fallible memory may not remember quite so perfectly.
I remember the terms impeccably, he answers without me sending any thoughts to him on purpose.
I wish I knew if I inadvertently spoke telepathically or if he’s rudely encroaching on my privacy. He’s still speaking.
Not that it matters. Nothing you say is trustworthy.
I smirk and then laugh before answering out loud. “Nice to see you!” No sarcasm comes out of my voice and I’m certain no one close by would guess from my reaction that I’m just making appearances for anyone who happens to be watching. “Let’s check out the view.” I motion toward the water’s edge, not too far away and begin walking away from the crowd.
He scowls, complies.
Once a decade or at least once per body, you owe me a hit regardless of any other factors.
The Dark Uzzit grumbles audibly. He’s clearly unhappy with my summary, which probably has something to do with nuances I omitted for the sake of brevity. He’s so persnickety.
Close enough, he answers with notable gravel in his telepathic tone. So much for pleasantries.
Vaya Sage. I send him an image of my would-be-best-friend turned enemy dressed in his traditional black and grey attire I’m guessing he’ll be wearing when we go to kill some wealthy countryman Vaya Sage will believe is Tie Enta. I’ll get some free countryside real estate out of the deal but I don’t share that with the Dark Uzzit. I focus on details of the image - dark curly hair, lighter roots that have grown in since we began vacationing here in Switzerland, his height in relation to my own, the precise model of the magma rifle along with the MTM silencer he’ll undoubtedly be using, the lava mag blade he’s so fond of despite its aging technology, and his heat vision filter glasses as best as I can imagine them out of the case and on his face.
When the Dark Uzzit acknowledges these details, I send him the address of the home I’ve rented to carry out the hit, along with an aerial view so he’ll spot it quickly with his own hovercraft. Again, I focus on an area of the countryside where I spotted a vantage point for him to snipe his shot using whatever he prefers - telekinesis or gun, it’s all the same to me. If he doesn’t like the spot, he can find somewhere else or he can try something more close range but I warn him about that.
This guy is very intelligent—
Coming from you, that’s saying a lot …<
br />
I don’t know how to receive that smug comment. Either he’s slamming me a little or he’s genuinely absorbing the magnitude of my comment. I passingly consider reading his mind to figure that out before abandoning the idea, preferring brevity to certainty.
I underestimated his intelligence before. I suggest you don’t do the same.
Roger.
Now I can tell he’s mocking me. He wants to see the universal credits. That’s one of the details I omitted in my summary and he wants to be certain I recognize that as part of the deal.
I pull out a physical card for his inspection. It’s one of several I stole back from Vaya Sage since he broke down my one card into at least a few dozen different cards. Annoying.
The Dark Uzzit nods as he recognizes the numbers look more than reasonable. He slightly adjusts his hand so I can slip the card to him as we part ways.
Tomorrow, noon, I instruct as we walk different directions. I’m beelining it back to what I now gather is a college band from BYU. While the trumpeter is playing punchy backup riffs with the rest of his section, some lanky saxophonist is tearing up some old school fusion tune I recognize but can’t put a name to, some really old classic I should know but it's slipping my memory anyway. Too many glitches.
My AI sends me a mild vivant alert without any clear instructions and an accompanying jab of guilt to encourage me to review more memories. I refuse. Not only am I feeling too lazy, I’m completely distracted by the entertainment and I’ve covered the most necessary memories so I feel justified in taking a break. The chip sends another minor alert, suggesting it’s noticed some details about Vaya Sage’s activities I’ve missed and encouraging me to reconsider. It also directs me to rummage through his gear before he returns from his pointless errand.
I scrunch my nose, tilt my head a little sideways, and tense several muscles in my shoulders in response to a masterfully nasty motivic series coming from the lanky dude playing saxophone. Smiling, I shake my head with pleasure and slouch a little. It’s a jazz thing. I can’t help it. Every true connoisseur understands this primeval response and I revel in it.
When my AI chip offers a third warning, I can’t help but feel anxiety and consider heading back to the castle but I’m not one to let my emotions master me so I squash the feelings and focus more carefully as the saxophonist rips through several pentatonic riffs over a tense altered dominant vamp. This stuff never gets old. The warnings from my AI chip continue to nag the corners of my mind but I’m determined not to let that ruin my fun. What’s life for if you can’t enjoy it?
8 || The Hit
THE HIT
Don't Kill Me Too.
As Vaya Sage’s hovercraft takes us to our destination, I vainly try to establish small talk with my mentally crumbling companion. Like any recluse, he’s not much for conversation in the first place but this feels extreme. Or, maybe my body is influencing my perception of things. I hate that. It’s a terribly irksome nuisance adjusting to a new body.
Vaya Sage is religiously wiping down his magma rifle and other gear with some goo sporting a cloudy texture I recognize as DNA modifier. He’s wearing gloves and applies the substance carefully to remove any traces of his presence on his weapons. He’ll aerosol the site with similar stuff after the hit just like he did at my last home. I’m surprised he’s taking these precautions all things considered but I don’t take too much note. This is standard assassin protocol. Just because we’re in a country that doesn’t share genetic information with the U.S. any more wouldn’t necessarily mean he should devolve into a pattern of laziness.
Lady Luck, as he likes to refer to fate, wasn’t very kind to him last time so I guess I can’t blame him too much. Still, it’s a waste of his time since his guts will be all over the floor, sharing his DNA with anyone who investigates his death. Hopefully I'll have it all cleaned up and hopefully no one investigates anything but the point remains valid.
Still, this is my last chance to see if I can convince him to change his perspective of things before I no longer have any opportunity to call the Dark Uzzit off the hit. I have use for Vaya Sage if circumstances will permit. Conversation, however, is going nowhere as steadfastly as Sleeping Beauty in a glass coffin. Reading Vaya Sage’s mind isn’t proving overly useful either. He keeps retracing the same events and details he’s been reviewing ever since he returned from the brain scan.
He’s methodically and meticulously covering every detail, looking for something he missed. He isn’t blindly deluding himself into a previously held conclusion like a lot of people. He’s trying to prove himself wrong about any detail, any extrapolation he may have misjudged. Occasionally, I carefully interject observations that may persuade him to reconsider offing me sometime in the near future.
His review takes a surprising turn. He’s methodically and linearly reviewing every detail he’s considered as a factor of determining who I really am. I would have guessed that this would end somewhere back in the states before we started vacationing at the castle but he begins reviewing my movements in the castle last week.
When I say “my movements,” I’m being quite literal. He’s noticing how my arms move, the placement of my feet as I walk, and gestures of my body that only someone extremely observant would ever care to catalog. I shouldn’t be surprised given his line of work but I’m shocked at how well he governs his thoughts as he goes through this procedure.
While he finds my figure compelling, carnally smothering, he cleanly separates patterns and left brain analysis from his appreciation of my aesthetics and his surprisingly potent attraction to this body. He’s clearly far more disciplined than I would be. I can see how this compartmentalizing talent of his keeps him from enjoying life as well and while it makes him more lethal in my estimation, I mark it down as a weakness.
Just as I think I’m onto something helpful, Vaya Sage skips any conclusion he may have been working toward and passingly wishes he could erase the last several years of his life and retire to play tenor saxophone. He’s grown weary of the assassin’s life, regrets the decision despite his ideology that led him there, and wishes he had the courage to take advantage of modern technology, move on in life.
The abrupt change of topic jolts me back into the present where I find myself adjusting my position for landing. I uncross my legs and correct my posture into something less casual. It’s all pointless but subconscious responses like this are a real thing. I recognize this as a consistent pattern in this body, file it away for future reference.
Vaya Sage’s thoughts could be the perfect opportunity for me to strike a deal or take advantage of these desires. Although I think quickly, his thoughts shift and distract me from exploring a mutual win scenario. I could arrange the very thing he desires - if only he would trust me.
He looks at me with the most penetrating gaze I’ve ever seen from him and considers the most convenient thing I could imagine.
I try not to beam with joy, widen my eyes as if I’m pondering something very different. “I don’t know about you but I always get nervous before a hit and unlike this time, I’m usually not even there to see anything.” I feign some form of innocence that doesn’t come naturally. Fortunately, I have Ji Anna’s memories to draw from and that’s precisely what allows me to play this card at all.
Vaya Sage scowls ever so slightly and starts to stand up and exit the pilot’s door as he grumbles instructions at me: “Just don’t talk too much.”
I chuckle and mumble something back. Ji Anna about drove him crazy chatting with him during his hit on me. I make a note to generate useless banter as things progress. I jump out of the hovercraft after jettisoning my wrap around skirt and the shirt I’ve been wearing over a brownish burgundy tanktop Vaya Sage has commented brings out my eyes. I’m wearing matching cotton shorts that are nearly black and a sunning hat and I’m grateful because the sun is already beating down upon us as it moves nearly directly overhead.
The agreed upon idea behind my attire is that if we get cau
ght, I’ll play the kidnapped victim and distract the authorities long enough to allow Vaya Sage to either get away or take out the offending law enforcement. The specific choice of attire was, of course, much more calculated. He may be stifling his primeval attraction to me but subconscious factors remain powerful forms of manipulation so I instruct my AI chip to generate a light, glistening layer of sweat all over my body. That creates a chilly sensation as sweat forms but I pull my tanktop tighter and lower anyway. It stays because of the moisture.
Vaya Sage thinks I’m along playing supervisor and so long as I’m technically his boss, he’s supposed to comply. Really, I’m looking for an opportunity to salvage his usefulness. I haven't given up all hope despite the fact that my AI chip tells me I should. If it's right, the gears are already in motion. I've ensured the Dark Uzzit’s sniper shot effectively ends this rivalry.
It doesn’t take long before I regret leaving extra clothing behind. Although sunny, the slight change in elevation and unnecessary sweat leaves me overly chilled as we walk the short distance across the meadow to the home I’ve rented. I strenuously discipline myself not to shiver or fold my arms in a way that exposes my discomfort.
If Lady Luck isn’t very nice to Vaya Sage, she’s been extravagantly generous to me lately. I couldn’t have generated an easier set up with a dozen assistants to do everything for me. I beam unabashedly now, throw back my head and tear off my hat so the sun can shine upon my face. I think I figured out how to approach this situation and get everything I want out of Vaya Sage.
I resist my body’s urge to twirl and spin while traversing a section of flowers. I can wipe away a smile easily enough if Vaya Sage glances back at me. Stopping a celebratory swirl is not so easy and how would I explain that? I’m just happy to finally off Tie Enta so I’m swirling with joy? No. That’s not going to work.