Glub, glub, bubble after bubble, upwards, and pop. The rum became less and less, and the burn became more and more. His eyes were watering from the fumes. Don’t stop!
The last mouthful of rum drained into his mouth, and he held it for a moment before swallowing. He dropped the bottle, and gasped for air, followed by a triumphant laugh. “Don’t try that at home, kiddies!”
He felt nauseous, but thankfully the dizziness distracted him from it. His mood got better and better. Hmm. Very relaxing. It’d be soon. Pretty soon. It wasn’t long before he felt like a nap.
A darkness that would be the end of most people, wrapped warmly around him. Darker, darker, black.
::: Kirison support colony: brain 1 malfunction detected [unconscious]
::: Kirison support colony: Backup nanite subset 01 activated
Kirison awoke. Only moments had passed. At first he thought his stunt had failed. Then he noticed a lack of any of the effects of alcohol. Yup, he was thinking with a brain made of nanites, which had found a home somewhere in his body. His real brain was passed out, probably dying.
He looked inward, and saw all the controls for the nanites in his body. Controls he couldn’t see from his real brain. Well, first thing is first, let’s save our life. Nanites were dispatched to break down alcohol in the bloodstream, and try to fix any significant damage in the brain tissue.
With those nanites on task, he looked at the condition of his body otherwise. Stupid nanites. They’d built half a dozen brains in totally random places.
He was currently thinking with a brain not far from his stomach. The one that had caused his ankle to be so weak was obviously not operational right now.
He noticed his wallet was gone. Damn it. So was the homeless man. Alright, focus on current priorities.
He squished his severed foot against his ankle, and issued orders to re-attach it, and reconfigure the placement of that brain. That was going to take longer than the detoxification of his bio brain. Might as well leave a standing order to reinforce bones as a low priority.
For a while, he considered just abandoning his original brain in favour of this nanite brain. But would he still be Kirison? Jonathan Coll gave up his mind in favour of a machine. He didn’t want to be like Coll. He’d hang onto his bio brain, thank you very much.
~~~
Mr. Book tapped away at his office terminal, moving information and orders to and fro, as was business as usual. It was his career.
His career was primarily telling people what to do. One great way to motivate people was to tell them that doing what he asked would be good for their careers. Sometimes, it was even true. Some people are so obsessed with their career, they get nothing done.
Book was good at telling the right person to do the correct thing. He hadn’t set out to be a ‘management’ type, it fell to him because he got things done. Subsequently, it became his career.
But what was it about nanites? Not many people had the talent to work with them; especially off the books; but twice now, the people he chose were lame ducks. Coll, and now Kirison.
Coll was an ass. He had no consideration for his career. This made him difficult to control, and a lot of people paid the price.
Kirison was a moron. He was far too interested in seeing what he could do, and not nearly interested enough in business or any consideration for keeping things running smoothly. Nanite researchers. A pile of morons.
Still, Kirison was malleable. It might be possible to reclaim him as a resource down the road.
That particular road came to a sudden dead end. The terminal chimed an incoming call from a Dr. Andrew Brock. Who the hell was this? Book quietly ran a little trace. He was calling from Yute army base. Shit.
Book tapped the call to connect, and the slight middle aged face of Doc Brock appeared. “Book here, speak.” Book greeted with his usual people skills.
“Ah, yes.” Brock was doubtlessly stunned by the sight of the grey, joyless Mr. Book. “Mister Book? I am to understand you have one Doctor Jacob Kirison in your employ?”
“Hrmm.” Book feigned having to work to remember him. “Yes, what about him?”
“We’re having some difficulty contacting him. He isn’t answering his terminal.”
Book pretended to look up some data. “Hrph. It seems he hasn’t come to work for some time.”
“Doctor Kirison was in charge of your nanite division in the past, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, Brock. That division has been shut down, when the laws changed to prohibit it. Kirison was disappointed, but since then he has gone to work in another department in an assistant position.”
Brock adjusted his glasses. “Mister Book, did you receive a message from one Colonel Judith Nafim a while ago? Around the same time Kirison stopped coming to work?”
Think quick, Book. “Now that you mention it, I did. I read as far as it pertaining to nanites, and I forwarded it to Kirison.”
Brock stared keenly into Book’s eyes. “Did you happen to look at the attached image?”
“No,” Book lied, again faking looking it up. He paused, and furrowed his brow. “Is that… is that supposed to be Kirison?”
“I believe it is. We came to know him first as ‘Samuel’, and he is suspected of being involved in the murder of two army personnel.” Brock held up the heat suit in front of the camera, so that Book could see. Book did his best to look puzzled, and not enraged.
“Mister Book, is this property of your company? Many components match those of other products your company has introduced to market, and aside from the dominant traces of the confessed killer, I recently found traces of Doctor Kirison.”
That bastard. Firstly to have the nerve to steal it, secondly but stupid enough to leave it somewhere with fingerprints or something.
Book slammed his fist on the desk. “I would very much like to have a word with Kirison!”
Brock peered over the rims of the glasses, trying to read Book. “As would we, Mister Book.”
~~~~~
:::C /44
~~~~~
Cassidy stood in Maxine's exercise square, holding one of her wooden spears. If she had thought of it before, Cassidy would have taken the beast spear with her when she left the airlimb.
Somehow this wooden toy didn't channel her anger as well as a sharp spear would, and the duty spears rarely left their posts. The toy would have to do.
She planted her feet in a warlike position. The sand ground between her boot and the stone with a quiet, seething sound. Gripping the spear until her knuckles turned white, she wished that Horad had come at her, attacking.
If he had been aggressive, she would have had no problems in attacking him. She lunged forward with a sharp exhale, and slashed the top of the spear across the air, imagining Cheryl's killer being torn in half in front of her, as if Armil's spear were that powerful.
Again, she attacked. She imagined the wet sound it would make. The last sputtering gasp.
Again. A third slice before the imaginary corpse hit the ground. Again, again. She screamed her hatred for Cheryl's death with every thrust and slash.
Unable to stop, she turned, and attacked, attacked, attacked. She jumped and stabbed the ground, imagining the spear head ramming into her target's chest. Bleed, you bastard, bleed! The target wasn't a Horad anymore, it was just a target. Suffer and die, but don't forget to suffer! If she just wanted to kill a target, she always had her...
She dropped the spear, and rested her trembling hand on her holster. She always had her gun. Out of breath, she sunk to her knees and closed her eyes.
The sun was bright, even through her eyelids.
“Did you lose?”
Cassidy quickly wiped tears away, and turned her head to face the voice. It was Maxine. Still catching her breath, she gave a staggered reply. “Did I... did I lose? What?”
Maxine walked over to Cassidy, and picked up the spear. She put the tip near Cassidy's exposed neck. “Kneeling like that, you looked like you were a surrende
ring samurai or something. Are you waiting for an honourable death?”
Cassidy stood, hoping here eyes weren't red. “That would be a switch, huh? An honourable death?”
“I know two people who recently died doing their duty. Seems pretty darn honourable to me.” Maxine examined the tip of the spear. “Damn, don't be so rough with these, huh? They're wood, but they don't grow on trees.”
Maxine hadn't brought a spear herself. She probably saw one was gone, and decided to come be nosy. “Yeah, they died on duty. Big deal. Guarding a statue that you'd need an aircraft carrier to steal, against a guy who wanted to break a little chunk of wood in front of it. What's honourable about that? It was pointless!”
Maxine sighed. “The dishonour goes to Horad.”
“Then I should have lobbed his head off.” Cassidy mumbled.
Maxine shook her head slowly, and put her hand on Cassidy's shoulder. Cassidy knocked it off, and started walking. “I'm going to camp.”
“No you're not.”
Cassidy stopped,and looked back at Maxine. “Did I say camp? I meant base.” She resumed walking, in the direction of the little camp.
“Leftenent, your sidearm please!” Maxine called out as an order.
Cassidy stopped again, and glared at Maxine silently.
“Cass...” Maxine repeated softly, walking towards Cassidy with her hand out. “Your sidearm. Please.” She looked into Cassidy's hard eyes. “Please.”
Cassidy gritted her teeth, and stared back. Finally,she pulled out her gun, and dropped in on the ground before continuing on to the camp, and Cheryl's sleeping bag. “Fuck off. Sir.”
~~~
“Grand Elder Guard, Sergeant Dixon.” Keith answered an incoming call aboard Armil's airlimb. A fit middle aged man appeared on screen, wearing a shirt and tie. A police emblem could be seen in the background, hanging on the wall.
“Hello, Sergeant. I think I may have found someone you're looking for.” The officer tapped a button off screen, and his own image was replaced with a paused security image. It was Kirison, walking into a convenience store.
“This man has been involved in a number of petty thefts. Normally, it would barely some to our attention, but-”
“What kinds of things did he steal?” Keith interrupted with great interest.
The officer was quiet for a moment as he looked it up. “Looks like food and batteries, mostly. A little stupid about it too. In one of the stores he stole batteries from, he had to get behind the counter. He wasn't very sneaky about it.” Another video popped up of Kirison walking around a counter, and trying to talk to the clerk. As the clerk got increasingly upset, Kirison jammed packages of batteries into his jacket with one hand, and making apologetic gestures with the other. Eventually, the clerk picked up the phone, at which point Kirison ran off.
“Yeah, that's our boy.” Keith said, “Where is this?” He looked over his shoulder to make sure Colonel Nafim was paying attention.
“Downtown Densfarn.” the officer replied, “All sightings of this person were within a mile of each other. We finally stuck his face into the system, and it clicked with a sketch we had received from you guys.”
“Can you send me all the info you have on this guy? Locations, items stolen, times and dates?”
“Done. Do you want us to pick him up for you?”
“That might not be wise,” the Colonel stepped in, “If you do spot him, please just track him, and let us know where he is. We'll be in the area shortly.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Keith nodded. “Thank you. Keep us posted.” he turned to the Colonel. “Should I call Leftenent Stanton, and tell her we'll be picking her up shortly?”
“I guess we should. Let's not drag our heels on this though.”
~~~~~
:::C /45
~~~~~
Cassidy arched back hard, reaching down between her legs to grab at the back of Cheryl's head with both hands. She wrenched to the side but was pleasantly helpless to resist. Cheryl's arms were wound firmly around Cassidy's hips, specifically to prevent escape.
Cheryl giggled before her final assault. Cassidy bucked back even harder, pressing her hips against Cheryl's face. Her breathing stopping with a sharp gasp, her mind blinded by the moment. Cheryl gazed up along Cassidy's rigid, climaxing body in adoring awe.
Her sigh accidentally triggered an extra little sensation to ripple though Cassidy. “Oh! Damn! Stop! I give up!” Cassidy pushed Cheryl's head back gently, well aware that Cheryl's hold on her hips was still very much in effect.
As Cassidy began to relax, Cheryl just smiled devilishly. “Nuh-uh, babe. You're mine, dontcha know?” She lowered her head again to give a tiny kiss.
“No no no,” Cassidy gasped for air, “I mean, yes, yes I am, but stop already!”
Cheryl relaxed her hold, and wandered her hands around Cassidy's skin to caress gently, being kind enough not to tickle, despite the temptation. She started to climb back up Cassidy, watching her deep breathing. “Fine,” She purred with a sheepish smile, “Mercy. But are you mine?”
As Cheryl came further up, Cassidy wrapped her arms around her. “Ridiculous question...” Cassidy replied, trying to regain her composure, “I was yours the moment I saw you.”
Cheryl stared into Cassidy's eyes with a look of sultry wit, and began speaking. Her lips moved, but Cassidy couldn't hear a word of it. She couldn't hear anything. No, that wasn't right. She could hear something distant.
Screaming. Cheryl's screaming.
Distant, but it was Cheryl's scream, there was no question.
“Cheryl?!” Cassidy looked into Cheryl's eyes. Cheryl looked calm and seductive in her 'innocent' way, lips moving as if saying something entirely unrelated to the screaming. “Cheryl, what's going on!?”
Cheryl slowly sat up, straddling Cassidy's hips, and holding her hands on Cassidy's shoulders, gently pinning her down. The screaming was getting closer.
“Cheryl!” Cassidy was unable to get free. Unable to even look away from Cheryl's face, which silently, and calmly talked on. The screaming got closer and closer. Just a handful of metres away, maybe.
With a violent snap, Cheryl grabbed her head with both hands, her face distorted in pain, and the screams were now coming from her, louder and more piercing than Cassidy thought possible. Still, they stared each other in the eye.
Cheryl began to turn a brilliant shining white. Her body tore apart, like shards of paper. The screams echoed and overlapped themselves, becoming all the more intense.
Cassidy awoke to the sound of her terminal beeping madly from the other side of the tent. She groaned, and lifted her face from the sleeping bag, glad to be awake. Groping around for the terminal, she turned it on with its screen still facing the floor of the tent.
“Stanton here. What?”
“Cassidy. We've got a general location on Samson, A.K.A. Jacob Kirison. Get to the helipad!”
“Huh? Keith? That you?”
Keith sighed. “Yeah, its me. Wake up and get to the helipad. We're about ten minutes out.”
Cassidy mumbled groggily, “Kay.”
“Don't fall back to sleep! Get moving!”
She replied with more energy, “I said 'kay!'” and disconnected. Alright, wake up, don't think about it, just wake up. Get out of the sleeping bag.
Inventory check.
Terminal? Stuffed back in the thigh pocket.
Hat? Re-installed.
Gun? Friggin' Maxine has it.
Go, go, go!
Oh wait. Dressed still? Good. Go, go, go! She burst out of her mournful love nest, staggering a little for a few steps before her jogging took real stride. Go. Burn it, wake up, adrenaline. Go. What the hell time was it? She didn't stop to check her terminal, but from the look of the sun, it had to be late afternoon. How long was she passed out? Go. Just go.
She felt she was making good time, so she headed to base first. She burst through the door, ignoring greetings. As she headed to the mess, she hollered ou
t “Maxine! Gimmie my damned gun! I'm gonna go get this Samson bastard!”
The first thing she saw in the mess was a bagel, so she grabbed it and carried it with her mouth. Exiting the mess, Maxine appeared with the gun. “Cass, here you go. Good luck.”
“Mhfmm.” was the best reply she could manage at the moment. She hated being rushed. Why didn't she just stay on the airlimb? She ran out the door to hear Maxine call out behind her.
“Cass! Catch!” She threw a deodorant to Cassidy who caught it and kept going. She must have been pretty rank if deodorant was a priority right after a gun. As she kept running, reality started to sink in, along with why Maxine was holding her gun. The bagel broke off, the bulk of it falling to the ground, leaving her with one mouthful. She hated bagels if they weren't toasted. What was she thinking? Go, go, the airlimb was maneuvering to land, and heaven forbid she got in trouble with Keith..
She got to the helipad moments before the airlimb set down. Keith was waiting at the open bay door. Several other Storms were milling around inside.
“I saw you running, Cass.” He offered his hand out to help her up, just in case she chose to accept it this time. “ What the heck fell out of your mouth back there?”
“Breakfast.” she replied as she hopped up unassisted as usual. “Dropped my damned bagel.”
“Well, that was silly. It's not like we don't have any food on board here.”
Cassidy shook her head. “Yeah, I'm an idiot. Hey, you made it sound like we were in a huge rush! Why haven't we lifted off yet?”
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