Watching Yute (29 page)

:::Core Nanite Colony Log:::

:::New host established

:::New host identified:
[Cipriana]

:::Attempting direct host
communication...

::: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.

:::[!]

Cipriana suddenly raised her head and
looked around. “Cassidy, did you hear that?”

“
Hear what?” bitterness not
intended for Cipriana laced her voice.

“
You don’t hear that at all?
It’s rather quiet, but it’s there…” Cipriana stood slowly, and
faced the temple. “It doesn’t sound... like sound.”

Cassidy stood, still trembling.
“There’s nothing.” A thought crossed her mind that seemed too
obvious to say. That might seem disrespectful to say. That might
just plain piss her off too much to say, or to think about too
closely. “Let’s get going. We can...” she looked at the blood
again. “we can get cleaned up. Like you said.”

Cipriana didn’t respond, so Cassidy
took her by the hand and pulled slightly until Cipriana turned away
from the temple and started walking again. Every few metres or so,
a mumbling sound would come from Cipriana. Sometimes it came out a
little more intelligible. “No…” She sounded fit to be
institutionalized, and the look in her eyes matched. Cassidy
stopped. “Cip. What the hell’s wrong? I mean, I know what’s wrong,
but you…”

“
Cassidy, do you think
Marcus was crazy?”

Tough question. She hadn’t really
decided. “I dunno, Cip, why?”

Cipriana looked towards the temple
again. “I think I hear it now. I think I hear the ghost. It’s like
Marcus said... it’s more like a feeling, and…”

“…
and?”

“
Part of it feels like
Marcus.”

They stood there for a while, with
Cassidy staring at Cipriana, and Cipriana staring towards the
temple. “Part of it feels a lot like being around Marcus. I don’t
understand. What is this? Cassidy, what is this?”

~~~~~

:::C /30

~~~~~

Doc Brock wandered around the base with
a device about the size of a loaf of bread, using it to take
readings from anyone he came across, asking their names, and
comparing his readout to information on a large crumpled print-out
he carried.

He was intensely focused, and when
anyone asked why they were having this device pointed at them, he
merely mumbled something vaguely apologetic and moved
on.

Armil’s G.E.G. soldiers came and went,
but Armil himself remained fairly stationary. He merely stood in
the large doorway to the mess hall in his big traditional robe,
hoping that his presence would somehow be of some small comfort to
the people who work here, live here, and were now stricken with
shock and grief.

Maxine wandered over to Armil. “What do
we do now?” She would have known the answer if her mind would stop
spinning long enough to consider it, but the question just came
from her as if the Grand Elder should have some magical answer that
would make everything okay.

Armil stood solemnly and sighed. “We
are doing everything we can. The search for the attacker is
underway, and we will tend to those we’ve lost. Marcus has told me
in the past that he would like to be laid to rest somewhere in the
ruins, but Cheryl?”

It took a while for it to sink into
Maxine’s head. “Cheryl. Her parents would make that decision, I
guess. Maybe we should ask Cassidy. Oh my god, Cassidy. She must be
a wreck.”

Grand Elder Armil gave another deep
sigh. “Cassidy and Cheryl. They were close?”

Maxine nodded meekly. “Very
much.”

“
I think I need to see her
when she’s ready.” He folded his hands across the front of his robe
and stared down at them. “Cipriana as well.”

It wasn’t long after that Cipriana and
Cassidy arrived at the base. It was hard to decide which of them
looked the worse for wear. They passed the threshold and just
stopped, directionless.

Maxine walked over to them, and looked
them both in their tired eyes. Having no words, she just wrapped
her arms around them and pulled them into a hug. Cassidy squeezed
back as her breathing betrayed her efforts to not cry.

Sisters and brothers of the base
wandered over one by one, most of them joining the growing
hug.

Armil stood back and admired the
kinship he saw. It was nearly heartwarming, until Cassidy's sobbing
from the middle of the group broke any semblance of quiet. The
sound ripped mercilessly at any peace. The sound of hopelessness,
of defeat, and of pain unmeasured.

~~~~~

:::C /31

~~~~~

Another buggy was coming. Kirison went
to the engine of his own rented buggy and pretended to be working
on it. The approaching buggy sped by, kicking up sand. The driver
called out “Better luck on race day, pal!”

If Kirison had known that this was an
area that buggy racers frequented, he would have picked a different
rendezvous point, but it was too late for that. Horad would be
along soon with any luck, and they could get the heck out of the
open desert.

What twist of logic had convinced
Kirison to bother helping Horad get out, anyway? He could have as
easily just vanished and never talk to the creep again.

Why help him? Well, for one thing, he
had to get that suit back. If Horad got picked up with that thing
on, it would be a significant step towards crap coming back at
him.

For another thing, Kirison wanted to
have confirmation that the second ‘chant’ had been delivered. The
storm had been visible from quite a distance, so he knew Horad had
successfully broken the first, turning on a signal to the vast
nanite fleet in the sands around the temple, and inciting the first
‘magic’.

Assuming Horad did his job, the
self-created server in the temple had now self-destructed by
command of the second chant, and instructed all nanites in its
network to disassemble, and get lost in whatever material they were
lodged in, whether it was sand or grey matter.

Then nothing would ever be found of his
secret pet project, he could relax, and Horad, if he had even been
spotted, would have to lay low for a little while.

Kirison was already starting to feel
more relaxed. Enough so that when he spotted Horad approaching, he
didn’t even dread that creep’s grizzly stare. Kirison hopped on the
buggy, with almost a smile, and drove over to pick Horad
up.

He stopped a few yards ahead of Horad.
“Hey there. How’d it go?”

Horad nodded, and waved as he came
closer. “My people are free now, thanks in no small part to
you.”

It was hard to spot, given Horad’s deep
olive skin, but there seemed to be a faint smear of blood on his
right hand. “Horad, did you get hurt?” He pointed at the
red.

Horad glanced as his hand as he climbed
onto the buggy. “No, this blood is not mine. I was forced to
fight.” He patted his knife sheath.

Kirison’s gut suddenly felt like a
brick. “You… had to hurt someone?”

Horad nodded. “Two. I fear they are
dead, but it was a small price to pay.”

Kirison stopped breathing, and stared
forward in silence. Breathe. Don’t react. Drive. He started the
engine, and started moving. Don’t react too much. If Horad thinks
Kirison might turn him in, what might he do? Breathe. Not too hard.
He had to say something. Silence would be suspicious too. “That’s
too bad.” What else do you say to a murderer?

“
A loss of life is a
regrettable thing, but if it means opening the door to my people’s
prosperity, a few cogs in the conspiracy are, like I said, a small
price.” Horad’s voice was hard to read. Was this regret, or just
quiet zealotry?

“
Once we get to a town, we
should part ways and lay low.” It surprised Kirison how easily the
words came out of his mouth while his mind was panicking. Two
dead?! To hide a relatively innocent pet project? What kind of jail
time would he have faced in a worst case scenario if he’d come
clean with his project? What kind of jail time was he looking at
now?

The thought crossed his mind briefly
that Horad needed to be erased. There was many ways to accomplish
this. No, no. No. That’s not a good train of thought. Maybe he
should turn Horad in. No, the plan was solid, it was good. The
evidence at the temple had already eradicated itself, and Horad
probably knew how to hide his own evidence. Don’t make it worse,
just lay low. Lay low and disappear.

“
We might not meet again for
quite some time, Samuel.” Horad said. Kirison just nodded. ‘Samuel’
would cease to exist today. They would never meet again.

~~~~~

:::C /32

~~~~~

Armil’s G.E.G. Storms now outnumbered
the usual temple personnel two to one. They were taking over the
watch shifts at the temple, and others continued armed patrols.
Armil had assured the regulars that this was temporary, and no one
argued. Despite being given the option, no one decided to take
leave.

Cassidy had been lying in her bunk,
face buried in a pillow, trying to sleep. If only the shaking in
her hands would stop. She’d thrown up earlier, and Cipriana told
her it was not uncommon for extreme grief. She was vaguely aware of
people coming and going.

Maxine had come, put her hand on
Cassidy’s shoulder and said something that was ignored. Cassidy had
just replied with a mumble, and buried her face deeper into the
pillow. Thank you Maxine, but go away. If Cheryl was gone, she’d
just as soon be alone entirely.

She was gone. Gone.

After a span of time that passed
unmeasured, Cassidy finally convinced herself to sit up. Across the
aisle, Cipriana sat in her typical meditative posture. It was all
wrong however. Her peaceful aura was damaged, different. Cipriana
had her eyes wide open, and her head was turned in the direction of
the temple.

As Cassidy tried to convince herself to
speak, she realized her jaw was trembling. She grabbed the blanket
hard to at least stop the trembling in her hands. “Cip…”

Cipriana slid back into reality and
turned her head to face Cassidy. “Maybe it hurts a lot because you
didn’t take her for granted.”

“
What?!”

“
You said you had taken
Brandy for granted.”

“
Did… did I ever tell you
that?”

Cipriana’s eyes looked around calmly at
nothing in particular. “I.. I don’t think so. I think it was
something you told Marcus. Way back, on your first shift
here.”

“
He went and told you
that?”

With a touch of confusion in her eyes,
Cipriana held her head. “Yes, no, I’m not sure. I feel him. And his
damned ghost.”

Cassidy didn’t know how to respond to
that, so she just stared at the foot of her bunk.

“
It’s not a bad thing,
really.” Cipriana eventually said, “They’re both… I know, I’m going
crazy, but they’re both... sympathetic to what we’re
feeling.”

Cassidy continued staring nowhere.
“And.. you said before it feels like being around
Marcus?”

Cipriana nodded meekly, and replied
softly. “In a way.”

Cassidy wrapped her arms around herself
“I wish I felt Cheryl like that. I mean, she’d still be gone,
but-“

“
No.” Cipriana replied, “My
mind... I feel a little like…You don’t want this.”

Cassidy sat for a while longer, and
Cipriana turned her head back towards the temple. After glancing
out the doorway, Cassidy slid one leg off the bunk, allowing her
foot to hit the floor.

She stared at her knee, knowing there
was more work needed if she planned to stand up. With a big sigh,
she got her other foot off the edge. Now it was just for the actual
standing. She knelt forward, and pushed down at the ground with her
legs.

It seemed to take a long time, and a
lot of effort to stand. Her body felt so heavy. One scuffing step
led to another, and eventually another.

“
Cass?” Maxine, reading
nearby, took notice. “Where you going?”

“
For a walk.”

“
You okay?”

What a stupid question. Not that Maxine
was stupid for asking it; it was the kind of thing a person asks.
Maxine’s concern was marginally appreciated, but not enough to
answer. Her steps became slightly bolder.

She wandered out of the barrack, and
out of the base. It looked like mid morning, and she was mildly
aware that it had now been over twenty-four hours since Cheryl’s
death.

It was so bright. The golden beauty of
the desert, the dazzling azure sky, the majesty of the surrounding
ruins. None of it seemed respectful. She wanted to go stuff her
face back into her pillow, but settled for adjusting the brim of
her hat. Damn her body felt heavy.

Onward.

A step, another step, another. Keeping
moving seemed to push her trembles aside. As she walked, her nausea
revisited her a little, but it was a welcome distraction from
darker thoughts.