Watching Yute

by Joseph Picard

  Kirison screamed as his mind was dissolved, “:::I AM!”

  “:::No.” The ghost said, soon alone in the water, “:::Not anymore.”

  The ghost took inventory of itself as its little grey form tumbled along with the flow of water. ‘Killing’ its creator wasn’t the kind of thing it thought of itself as doing. It wasn’t the kind of actions it learned from Marcus or Cipriana, but it was what Cipriana thought needed to be done in this case, for everyone’s safety.

  But was it murder? Kirison’s nanite system wasn’t human, but then, neither was the ghost. What would Marcus say? It wished it could talk to him again.

  Marcus was very important to it.

  It wished it could talk to him again.

  But Marcus was still gone.

  ~~~~~

  :::C /46

  ~~~~~

  The airlimb had been moved closer to the confrontation spot, about twenty metres from where Kirison had been gunned down. On Cipriana's recommendation, Kirison's body was doused with more gasoline, to keep the fire burning a while longer. Just in case.

  Cassidy stood in the airlimb bay door, watching as Storms and local police did all the things they felt needed to be done. Nafim had given clearance for the local power grid to be turned back on, but the fire was still the most captivating light source. The night had settled in, and the streets were still pretty quiet.

  Brock and some assistants were doing their best to find any stray nanites. Keith's face was scrubbed with alcohol to get off any residual nanites from Kirison's blood. Brock was satisfied with the tests afterward.

  Cipriana made her way back to the airlimb and gave Cassidy a quiet nod. “Sorry, Cip.” Cassidy said softly. “I couldn't find you any marshmallows for your fire.”

  “That's not terribly funny.” Cipriana said, looking back at Kirison's fire.

  Cassidy sighed, and leaned against the edge of the doorway. “No, it's not. But doesn't this feel like some messed up camp-out scene?” She looked at Cipriana closely, with tired eyes. “Cip. Are you... are you you now?”

  Cipriana forced a little bit of a smile. “I was always me, Cassidy. But yes, he's gone. I'm alone in my head again.”

  “Miss him?”

  Cipriana scoffed softly. “I... I don't know. I know what he is, and... I mean, I was never fooling myself about it. He was welcome, but I suppose I feel... I mean...”

  “Shut up, Cip.” Cassidy wrapped her arms around Cipriana, and watched the dancing shadows that the fire cast.

  “It only sounded like Marcus. I know that.” Cipriana sighed. “But he was good.”

  Cassidy let Cipriana go, and sank down to sit on the deck. “Don't over think it, Cip. It's over.” She idly spun her rings around her finger. “Still, you might want to let Doc Brock scan you over. Just to make sure you don't have anything left in you. A better scan than the last one.”

  Cipriana looked a little surprised. “The ghost wouldn't lie to me.”

  Cassidy shook her head slowly. “Maybe not. Maybe it had some little scheme behind the scenes... maybe Kirison's left a few tricks in the ghost's programming that the ghost wasn't even aware of. I don't know, maybe I'm paranoid, but do it for me, huh? I just need a guarantee that we have our old Cip back.”

  Cipriana smiled her soft sort of smile. Cassidy couldn't imagine anyone else being capable of that smile. This was pure Cipriana.

  “Well, now that everyone knows I was carrying the ghost, I don't think Brock will let me get too far without every kind of scan he can imagine. I think I might get in some trouble for hiding it.” She sat down next to Cassidy.

  Cassidy scoffed. “Blame the ghost. Claim mind control. You don't know for sure that it wasn't the case. It's not like Brock can hunt it down now.”

  “I miss him.” Cipriana's voice cracked, followed by a sniffle. “Not the ghost. Marcus.”

  “Cip?”

  Cipriana's breathing trembled a little. “I get to miss him all by myself. I know it's all my own thoughts, and I miss him. I... ” She crossed her arms and looked down. Cassidy leaned over and put her arms around her again.

  “You damn well know you're not alone, Cip. Not by a long shot.” It was the kind of things people said in these situations.

  When Cassidy finally headed back to her quarters on the airlimb, her terminal had a little light flashing slowly. A message.

  “Hey, it's me.” Brandy. “Just calling to check up on you. Talk to you later.”

  Cassidy looked at the time. It wasn't that late. She called back. Ring.... ring....

  “Hey! Cassie!”

  “Hey Brandy, what's up?”

  “You look tired!”

  “Yeah, thanks. Hey, guess where I am, Brandy?”

  “Looks like the room on your flying avenge-o-bird.”

  Cassidy smirked “Yeah, yeah. And guess where it's parked?”

  “Mars! I dunno, just tell me.”

  “Downtown Densfarn!”

  “What?! What are you doing out here?”

  Cassidy grinned. “Did you hear about any power outages this evening?”

  Brandy narrowed her eyes, and tilted her head. “What exactly have you done now?”

  Cassidy laughed outright. “You'll see it on the morning news! And... and if you don't, it probably means I'm not allowed to tell. I'm not sure how classified things are at this point.”

  “Cassie, what the hell? Are you Jane Bond now or something? In the Grand Elder's secret service?”

  Cassidy chuckled. Brandy was great. “No, no, hell no. This is it. All the 'i's have been crossed, the 't's have been dotted, the weird stuff is over. Finally.”

  “Your 't's have been d- oh, whatever. Well, alright then, how long are you in town?”

  “Frig, I don't know. Another half hour maybe. Remember, flying avenge-o-bird.”

  “Well damn, Cassie! You come all this way, and you don't even stop in for coffee?”

  “Brandy! I'm... I'm not really in the market for... coffee.”

  “That's not what I meant, smartass.”

  Cassidy smiled softly. “Goodbye, Brandy.” she said quietly.

  ~~~

  “Sergeant Dixon.” Colonel Nafim said, shortly after Kieth had gotten the airlimb on course.

  “Yes, Sir?” Keith turned in the seat to face her.

  “Sergeant, how attached are you to operating this airlimb? I realize it took a good deal of training and whatnot, but-”

  Keith was taken a bit aback. “Sir? Am I doing a bad job?”

  “No! No, no. I just noticed that you get along with the Yute temple personnel fairly well.”

  Keith furrowed his brow to show his confusion.

  Nafim turned her back, to look out the window. “It's just that they are unfortunately a little shorthanded at the moment. I can't have them borrowing people from me indefinitely. They will need to find permanent staffers.”

  “Are you suggesting I transfer?”

  Nafim turned to face him again. “Yes. A suggestion only. You do a fine job here, but I think you would also do well there. It's a unique unit. You would likely fit in, where many would not. It's just an idea. Give it some thought.”

  Keith looked out into the night sky. “Yes, Sir. I'll think about it.”

  ~~~

  Within the hour, Grand Elder Armil was on board, settled into his on-board office. Cassidy knocked on the open door frame, with Armil's spear in the other hand.

  “Hey, busy?”

  Armil looked up from his desk and smiled. “Not at all! I'm here to see you, after all. Come in!” He walked over to the floor rug, and sat down behind the spear's case.

  Cassidy sat across from him with the beast spear in her lap. “So, you heard it's over, huh? Want your poky stick back?”

  Armil leaned forward to open the case. “I think its job is done. It deserves a rest for a few decades.”

  “It's not like it got to draw any blood.” Cassidy didn't think Cipriana's hand counted, “isn't a spear made for sticking into people?
Do you think it's content with this outcome?” She rested the spear in the case and stared at it.

  “You're a soldier, Cassidy. Arguably, you are trained to kill. Are you discontent on a day that you don't have to kill anyone?”

  Cassidy scoffed lightly. She replied almost under her breath “Sometimes. When it comes to Horad.” She looked up at Armil. “So, has he been sentenced yet?”

  “No, not yet.” Armil closed the case. “I suspect he will serve at least fifteen or so years for each death. He has also been linked to several bombings, to which he has voluntarily confessed. I don't know how many bombings, but I suspect he will not outlive his final sentence.”

  Confessed. Voluntarily. “What, he had some magical change of heart or something?” Bringing more crimes to the attention of authorities didn't sound like a great defence tactic.

  “Maybe...” Armil tapped the case, “maybe he was visited by a mournful soul, who opened his eyes.”

  Cassidy remembered the talk she had with Horad in the airlimb bay on the day he was apprehended, but laughed anyway. “I don't think me and this spear really did much. I don't think you really needed me at all.”

  Armil closed his eyes and smiled. “Need flows many ways. I think all needs have been served as well as circumstance would allow.”

  “Well. I'm done.” Cassidy stood. “I'm headed back to the temple base, back on duty. Me and Cip, and the big stone dog. See you around, Armil.” She gave a quick salute.

  “Walk with peace, Cassidy.”

  ~~~~~

  :::C /47

  ~~~~~

  The temple base was as it had always been. People flowed between the base and the temple during shift changes, and went on with daily life the rest of the time. Alan's cookies were still the focus of good natured conflicts, Maxine still went to her exercise square, Cipriana still meditated on her bunk, Jim was still a likeable, hopeless dork.

  Life went on. In so many ways, as if nothing had happened. It disgusted Cassidy. It seemed as if reality itself were making light of Cheryl's death.

  After choking down a microwaved ration, and trying to politely avoid friendly conversation, Cassidy wandered back from the mess towards the womens' barracks. A day had passed, and she started to wonder when she would be asked to return to active duty. She wasn't sure, but she would have wagered that Cipriana hadn't missed any shifts since Marcus' funeral. Maybe that was thanks in part to the ghost.

  She turned the corner and saw Cipriana on her bunk, reading from her terminal. Cipriana somehow looked more alive than she used to. She just had a vibrancy that Cassidy didn't remember from before. Was she like this before the attack?

  From the doorway, Cassidy looked as closely as she could. Was Cipriana smiling? She noticed Cassidy, and waved her over with the terminal in her hand. Cassidy walked over. “What's up?”

  Cipriana handed Cassidy her terminal. It was open to an email.

  From:

  To:

  :::Hello, Schmetterling.

  :::Kirison support colony components that entered the sewer are confirmed destroyed.

  :::I have also confirmed that the fire was effective.

  :::Eidechse

  Cassidy handed the terminal back to Cipriana. “S-ch-metter... what?”

  Cipriana smiled again. “Shmet-er-ling. It's German. The ghost knows my father is German. Schmetterling means 'butterfly'.” She pointed over her shoulder to the painted butterfly over her bunk. “When I dropped the nanite ball into the sewer, he destroyed the nanites that bled out of Kirison. Then he came back to make sure my fire worked to get anything left on the street.”

  Cassidy raised her eyebrows. “So the ghost is still 'alive', running around writing email?”

  Cipriana's smile persisted. “You're still worried he could become a problem?”

  “I guess not.” Cassidy sighed. “I'd feel better if he had a checkup with Brock or something, though.”

  “At which point, Doctor Brock would be required by law to destroy him.”

  “True. At any rate, I'm still glad we have you back in original condition.” She patted Cipriana on the shoulder, and headed back out.

  “Where are you going?” Cipriana asked.

  Cassidy stopped, and looked at the ground for a moment. “It's a nice day. I'm going for a walk.” She looked forward to the exit. “Gonna try to relax a bit. You know, now that all that crap's been dealt with.” Without giving Cipriana another look, she left the base.

  It was a nice day. The mid-morning sun hadn't yet become uncomfortably warm. It was the way she'd like to be able to remember the ruins, except for a couple missing details. One in particular.

  Step after step dragged her along the path. Off to the side, she saw the spot where Marcus liked to meditate. Crazy old man. What was he like before the ghost? Aside from his 'eccentricity', he seemed pretty okay with the ghost. Maybe it was well intentioned after all.

  Step after step. She took her time, trying to enjoy the feel of the sandy path under her boots, the warmth of the sun, and the quiet. It would be her last, after all.

  She would have given Cipriana a long hug if it didn't risk blowing her cover. Hell, a kiss too. And that busybody Maxine. And she should have gone to see Jim one more time too. A lot of people. Oh well, it wouldn't matter for long.

  Step after step. She passed by that carved stump again. For all the labour put into its detail, it was no more useful that the massive stone version in the temple.

  Step after step. The camp got closer and closer. Calling her home, almost. She came to the clearing, and reached out for the nearest piece of ruin. It was the piece she had shot before. She could feel the back end of the bullet. It still seemed comfortable in there.

  She walked on and grazed her hand across Cheryl's mural. She remembered watching Cheryl paint, and copied the brush motion with her hand, wanting to feel her. A burning tear dragged its way down her cheek.

  She was gone. She was gone. And nothing was going to change that. For all the justice that had been served, it couldn't bring Cheryl back. What good was any of it?

  The tent flap graciously accepted her. Inside, it was a different kind of warm. It was Cheryl's warmth. It was a little darker inside.

  She pulled Cheryl's sleeping bag over, and got in. She stared at the top of the tent, trying not to remember the nightmares. Only the dreams, and the good times.

  The sweetest memories mocked her the cruelest. She grabbed at the sleeping bag's material, and tried to hold it against herself. The burning tears kept coming.

  The uncomfortable convenience she wore on her hip reminded her of why she was here. She took a deep breath, held the pendant in her hand, and kissed her engagement ring.

  Cassidy didn't have any strong beliefs in any afterlife. She didn't promise herself that she'd soon be with Cheryl. She only knew that Cheryl wasn't here.

  She slowly pulled the handgun from the holster. She felt it drag along with the same attention she had given to the sand and the sun. She wanted to examine every one of her final sensations. She almost giggled when she realized that her last meal was a fucking frozen ration.

  The gun felt efficient. A precisely crafted piece of engineering. She had always hated guns. They were too convenient. As it turned out, she should have been hating knives all along. Now she had a favour to ask of this gun. She took the holster off, and threw it out of the sleeping bag. She cuddled up on her side, and aimed the gun at her face. She looked down the barrel.

  How innocent it looked. A remarkable absence of malice. It was clean and smooth in its details. She primed a round into the chamber, slowly and with unnecessarily deliberate care. She released the safety with the same purposeful attention.

  With tears cooling on her face, she moistened her lips. “Kiss me.” she whispered. Her breathing was deep. Not with fear, but with anticipation. She opened her mouth, and put end of the barrel in. For a moment, she bit down softly on it. That didn't make sense. The automatic's action might foul things u
p somehow if she was biting down on it. It probably wouldn't matter, but it might.

  She imagined the sound of the gun going off, and how she might look after. The thought of the revolting red result was in its own way, incredibly seductive. It would be so quiet after. So peaceful.

  Being one squeeze away from her end felt very liberating. She was free already. She wanted to savour the feeling. It almost felt like love. It was the best thing she had felt since Cheryl died. The closest she'd been to freedom.

  Cheryl didn't get to feel this. It made Cassidy almost want a slower, more painful death. How long did it take Cheryl to die? Damn it, why didn't she take Horad's head off when she had the chance? It didn't matter now. It was all over, her job was done, she could rest. It was time to rest.

  She kissed the barrel.

  “Cheryl...” she called out softly.

  “Cassidy!” Cipriana burst into the tent. Cassidy fumbled to hide the gun, but Cipriana grabbed it out of her hands too quickly.

  “Cip! I...”

  Cipriana knelt down in the tent, gripping the gun, one hand on the handle, one on the barrel. She angrily and silently stared into Cassidy's eyes. She was shaking. They stared at each other for a long time. Cassidy wiped her eyes, and just kept breathing, waiting for Cipriana to stop staring at her like that. Cip looked so angry that Cassidy half-expected a beating.

  Cipriana finally broke the silence, screaming, “WHAT THE FUCK, CASSIDY?!” She hurled the gun out of the tent, then locked her glare back on Cassidy.

  Cassidy just kept looking back at her. What was there to say? There was little mistaking what she was about to do. There was no reason to explain her reasons. What did Cipriana want her to say? Why did she have to butt in? It would have all been over by now.

  “What the fuck are you thinking, you stupid, stupid bitch?!” She was crying. Cassidy had seen Cipriana cry before, but the anger? That was new. “Damn it, Cassidy, it's not enough I lose Marcus and Cheryl, you have to go blow your fucking head off? What's that going to fix?”