The Osiris Contingency

by Virginia Soenksen

  “Jesus…” Seth spoke in a whisper that was barely audible over the sounds of the machinery around them.

  “That’s what the Agency does,” Owen said, prying the control panel off the boiler. “Drives out the humanity in you. Teaches you to care about yourself above others.”

  Seth swallowed hard, then asked, “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you need to reconsider your priorities,” Owen answered. “You’re a non-modified civilian trying to fight back against the deadliest force in this country. If you want to live, you should start being a little smarter about it.”

  “Smarter how?”

  Owen turned back to look at him, bracing a massive arm on his knee as he said, “Your best bet is to stay here with us and convince Liane to do so as well. She trusts you, and Agents are wired to obey those they trust. That’s how Handlers control them. If I were you, I’d use that knowledge to my advantage.”

  “I’m her friend, not her Handler,” Seth retorted. “I’m not trying to control her, and I’m bloody well not going to play on her weakness to get what I want.”

  Owen turned back to the boiler controls, expressionless and unbothered. “My friend said something similar as we walked into that sparring room. Said he wouldn’t play their game anymore. He was just as noble as you, and in the end, it nearly cost him his life.”

  Seth lifted his chin, appraising Owen for a moment before saying, “I should go talk to Liane, then.”

  “Perhaps you should,” Owen said, his focus now on prying up the control panel. “While you’re at it, think on what I said.”

  Seth nodded, backing away a few steps before turning and walking from the boiler room as fast as he could without running.

  It took him a while to find Liane; eventually, he spotted her in the long, narrow room used as a shooting range. She was alone, standing by a spindly table as she methodically loaded paint-filled bullets into a target gun. She glanced up as Seth entered, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes as she said, “You’re favoring your left leg; work on protecting your extremities during your next sparring practice.”

  “I’ll do that.” Seth went to stand near her, watching as she raised the gun and took aim at the distant target. Shots fired in rapid succession, and when it was over a cluster of blue paint

  colored the center of the humanoid outline of the target. Liane lowered the gun, removing the empty clip with practiced ease while Seth noted, “Looks like you’re keeping your skills up.”

  “To do otherwise would be asking for capture,” she said, taking in his worried expression before asking, “What’s got you riled?”

  Seth crossed his arms, glancing around to make sure they were alone. “Just had a very interesting conversation with our host.”

  Liane paused, setting the gun aside. “Is he restricting our

  access to the doors again?”

  “No, but he wants me to convince you to stay.” Seth glanced at her, their twin sets of mismatched eyes meeting.

  She turned back to the target as she asked, “Do you think we should?”

  “Well, yeah, I think it’s the best option…” Seth trailed off, watching her profile. It was clear she was listening to what he was saying, and for a moment he could hear the echo of Owen’s

  advice; she trusts you, and Agents are wired to obey those they trust…

  Seth moved closer, bringing a hand up to rest on her shoulder. He could feel her muscles go tense through the fabric of her jacket but held on as he turned her towards him and said quietly, “Look, I need to say this; if you want to leave, we will. No questions.”

  Liane frowned, stating, “You don’t want to go.”

  He smiled, admitting, “No, I don’t. I also didn’t want to poke around in Genentech or wage a war on the Agency. But I did

  because we’re a team. So, you tell me what you want to do.”

  Liane looked up at him for a moment, the choppy length of her hair framing her thoughtful expression. Finally, she answered, “You’re right; we’re safer in here than out there. I underestimated the Agency’s reach in the city twice, and we might not survive a third mistake.” Her eyes flicked up to his as she added, “And you like the mods here.”

  Seth moved closer, his gaze softening as his hand slid from her shoulder to the side of her neck. “Not more than you.”

  Liane’s cheeks flushed, and she glanced down at their feet

  before saying, “We stay. Until we have a better idea of how to fight back.”

  Still, he had to ask, “You’re not saying that because it’s what I want, is it? Owen said… I know it’s hard for you to be out of the Agency. But you don’t have to do what others want just because that’s what you’ve been taught to do.”

  “That’s not why I listen to you,” Liane said, still not looking at him. “It’s not like it was in the Agency.”

  Seth let his hand drop, but didn’t move away as he asked, “What was it like for you in the Program?”

  Liane stepped back, hunching her shoulders as she leaned against the table and admitted, “Hard. Survival depended on

  success. I was better than most, and I still almost broke.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Damian,” she answered, turning and loading mock-bullets into the gun once more. “He taught me how to use pain to my

  advantage and rise above it.”

  Taking aim at the target, she emptied the gun again; this time the blue clustered on the outline’s head right between the eyes. As she lowered the gun, Seth mustered the courage to ask, “What about the other trainees who learned with you?”

  “What about them?”

  “Well, you must have gotten close to some of them. Seven years is a long time.”

  “We were in competition with one another,” Liane said with an irritable jerk of her head, removing the empty clip. “We couldn’t speak or help one another; it wasn’t like we were there to make friends.”

  “Still, it just doesn’t make sense that you went it alone all that time,” Seth protested. “I mean, it’s human to need other people…”

  Liane turned to face him, her mouth pressed into a tight line. “What do you want me to say? That they didn’t matter to me? That I didn’t care whether they lived or died?”

  Seth’s face flushed in frustration as he said, “That’s not what I want—”

  “What, then?”

  “I want to know that I matter to you,” Seth snapped back. “For the past two weeks, you’ve been acting like you’re still an Agent. Is that where you’d rather be?”

  “No, of course not,” Liane stared at him, perplexed. “And you do matter to me. The fact that I’m even here should prove that.”

  “I need to hear it,” Seth said, trying to soften his voice. “I need to know that you’re with me as much as I’m with you.”

  She frowned at him for a moment before saying, “I thought you were less fragile than this.”

  Seth let out a laugh. “Guess I’m not as resilient as you.”

  Liane let the tiniest of smiles curve her lips. “Resilient is kinder than ‘robotic’, I suppose.” Nodding at the targets, she asked, “Want to work on your marksmanship?”

  Seth smiled back, moving to the table. “Only if you promise not to tell me how my failings will cause my inevitable death.”

  “I’ll try to keep it to a minimum,” Liane said, moving out of the way for him to take his place in front of the range.

  CHAPTER 15

  Another week passed in Black Sun. Thought Liane was no more content to be surrounded by mods, she tried her best to be more a part of the makeshift army. Talking to more of them seemed to help, and she found that the looks they gave her slowly morphed from suspicious to friendly. She still preferred Seth’s company to anyone else’s’, so most evenings after dinner the two of them would sit along the side of the canteen in quiet conversation.

  One evening, Liane tossed aside her book with a frustrated groan, runni
ng a hand across her tired eyes just as Seth set a mug of tea in front of her. With a grin, he slid into his chair as he asked, “What now?”

  Liane picked the book up again, reading aloud, “‘Though the Helsinki Accords afforded a temporary cease-fire, the peace was short-lived. Cyanide poisonings of several American senators caused widespread global panic, exacerbated by false reports on social media that water mains in the Allied Forces were also

  poisoned. The United States responded by bombing Moscow, which was followed by widespread chemical warfare across the

  continental US and the total devastation of London…’”

  Seth nodded, taking a sip of his tea. “Poison panic; I remember learning about that in school.”

  “It’s so stupid,” Liane growled out between clenched teeth, slamming the book down on the table again. “Presidents and prime ministers insulting one another online, armies posturing with bombs, mistakes and meaningless retaliation…”

  Seth picked up the book, turning it over in his hand as he asked, “What did you think you would find in this thing? Easy

  answers?”

  “Any answers,” Liane snapped. “They nearly killed the world, and for what? Nothing at all. There was no dictator to be stopped, there was no injustice to fight; there was just global stupidity.”

  Seth shook his head with a smile of mild exasperation, his eyes drifting from her to the staircase as a raucous pack of patrolling mods poured down them into the hangar. The group was clearly elated, thumping one another on the back and letting out

  celebratory cheers that were made guttural by the modding.

  “They seem pleased with themselves,” Liane noted, finishing her tea.

  Seth stood up, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting out to Alec, “You lot win the war by yourselves?”

  The mod shrugged a heavy pack from his shoulder with a bark of laughter, saying, “Intercepted a shipment of weapons to the Agency. You should see what we managed to nick from them…”

  Her interest piqued, Liane stood and went over, kneeling by the pack and opening it up to reveal a pell-mell pile of guns and

  explosives inside. She lifted out a sniper rifle, securing it to her shoulder and peering through the scope. Impressed, she lowered it and said, “This is top-of-the-line equipment. It should help to even the score.”

  “Hell yes, it will!” boomed the young mod, his fangs gleaming as he grinned.

  Across the room, Owen entered, heading with clear purpose

  towards the mods. As he neared, Alec called out, “Come see our new additions to the armory.”

  Owen’s face remained as expressionless as always, but his pale blue eyes held a newfound light of approval as he knelt next to Liane, peering into the pack. She thought she caught him smile as he murmured, “Brand new, with the latest advancements… We must be making them nervous.”

  Liane looked up at him, commenting, “This theft will make them angry, not nervous.”

  Owen smiled as he stood. “Good.” He turned, taking in the crowd of mods and saying to them all, “Well done, all of you. I think this calls for a night of leave from patrols. Neil, I take it you can arrange something to reward your fellow troops.”

  The reptile mod beamed, nodding as he said, “So I have your blessing to arrange a trip aboveground?”

  Owen gave a distracted shrug. “It’s your call. You know the risks.”

  “Worth it,” Neil said with a grin, already heading off to a quieter corner with his phone.

  Owen glanced at Seth and Liane, saying, “I don’t permit many distractions here, so the mods make each one count. You’ll enjoy yourselves tonight.”

  The two of them waited with the mods until Neil turned back, announcing, “There’s an underground rave in one of the warehouses along the river. Everyone meet back here at eleven and we’ll head over.”

  Seth bounded over to Liane, asking, “Want to go?”

  She watched the other mods drift away, pointing out, “It’s not a good idea. Damian is still looking for us, now more than ever, I’d wager…”

  “Maybe it’s stupid, but we’ve been down here for weeks,” Seth said, pleading. “I need fresh air, open spaces... People aren’t meant to live underground.”

  Liane thought back to her years of training in the facilities

  below the Agency headquarters. During the years of the Program, she had gone months at a time without seeing sunlight. Realizing that Seth was waiting for an answer, she said at last, “Alright. Let’s go.”

  An hour later they all reconvened in the hangar bay. Most of the mods had dressed up for the occasion, sporting fluorescent makeup and vivid hair extensions. Liane hung back along the edge of the group, looking for Seth. She was wearing the lace dress she had bought for their previous foray into a mod club; short, tight, and black, the sheer lace sides left little to the imagination. One of the other mods had helped her with her makeup, and even though Liane knew that she looked acceptable, she still felt awkward and off-center. She spotted Seth, who had opted for his black leather jacket and had tried somewhat to tame his curly hair. He moved through the crowd, and when he spotted her, she noticed how his eyes widened.

  Liane’s cheeks went warm, and she tugged at the hem of her dress as he neared, saying, “This is the only thing I brought that might blend in—”

  Seth reached out and took hold of her hand, stopping her

  fidgeting as he said earnestly, “You look beautiful.”

  Liane looked down at their joined hands, lapsing into silence as they headed up the staircase to the world above.

  The rave was in an empty warehouse, one of many that bordered the river. The revitalization efforts of Libertas hadn’t yet touched the area, and the pavement underfoot was cracked, the surrounding buildings weathered and broken. The group of mods, masked and disguised in bulky coats, made their way through the alley that ran between the warehouses and the riverbank. Neil turned down a narrow gap between the warehouses and led them to a door coated in peeling paint guarded by a tall, menacing mod. From the outside, the warehouse looked dark and empty, but as they neared the door Liane could make out the low thud of electronic music from within. Neil exchanged a few words with the bouncer; the mod said nothing but stepped aside and jerked a thumb through the door, permitting them entrance.

  The music grew louder as they walked through the dark,

  narrow corridor, and light flashed between the boards that

  comprised the walls. Liane’s shoulders itched with discomfort from the enclosed space. They rounded a corner, and the darkness fell away to reveal the light and noise of the rave.

  The cavernous warehouse loomed in front of them, just as large and open as the underground hangar bay but more chaotic. The overhead lights were off, likely burned out long ago, with smaller, multicolored lights illuminating the crowds of dancing mods in flashing waves. Music thundered from speakers along the walls, drowning out all but the loudest conversation. The center of the room had become a dance floor, couples writhing against one another while along the edges smaller groups leaned into one another to talk and drink the night away.

  Seth looked wistful as he watched it all, shouting over the

  music to Liane, “I’d almost forgotten that people do this all the time; celebrate, get drunk, have fun…”

  Liane looked across the length of the warehouse distracted by her own thoughts. Yes, she supposed it was fun. The mods thought so, rushing out to the dance floor and various bars to begin the night. Seth tugged on Liane’s hand, nodding towards the nearest bar, “Want a drink?

  She nodded, lacking any better ideas. He got both of them brightly-colored bottles of mixed alcohol; the contents were sweet but potent. Liane drank it anyway, nervous and off-kilter without knowing why. She followed Seth as he chatted with their acquaintances from Black Sun, hanging back from talking herself. It wasn’t long before the flashing lights, loud music, and alcohol all made her head swim. A little while later, when Seth p
ulled her towards the dance floor with an excited smile, she went where he led her. She watched the others, trying to copy their movements as best she could. Seth didn’t seem to care how he looked, dancing joyously and bumping into others around him.

  Time passed strangely, the world spinning around her until

  Liane stopped, swaying and dizzy. The mods all around her danced on, no one paying her any attention. She turned on the spot, stumbling and searching their faces in the pulsing strobe lights. All strangers; she didn’t recognize any of them.

  “Seth?” she called out, her voice lost under the music. She spun on the spot trying to find him, shouting in rising panic, “Seth!”

  But he wasn’t anywhere to be found, and no one even paused in their dancing. A sobering rush of alienation, of otherness, swept through Liane, and the air seemed too heavy, the crowd too close; she wanted out. She pushed her way through the mods, her empty drink bottle falling from limp fingers. It shattered on the ground, causing mods to jump back and shout at her, but she didn’t stop. She kept moving, stumbling towards where she thought the warehouse entrance had to be. Her breaths came faster and faster as she staggered down the narrow hallway until her hands struck the door. She groped along the moisture-warped wood until she found the inner knob, and when she found it, she all but ran out into the night.

  Careening past the bouncer, Liane bent over, gasping in the cold night air. A drizzling rain had begun to fall, and soon her hair and clothes were heavy and clammy with the damp. Liane walked over to lean against the grimy brick wall of the adjacent warehouse, unable to order her thoughts.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  She looked up to find Seth standing next to her, his eyes filled with worry and a hand hovering above her back. She stared at him for a moment, emotion warring within her as she straightened and said, “I couldn’t find you.”

  He laughed, holding out a bottle of water to her. “I went to the bar. You looked like the alcohol was getting to you.”