Killing Time OST – 16a – Deal

<< 15c – iPlay Brain Surgeon

Though Vexx’s insistence that I trusted him made little to no sense in my mind, I chose to let it go. Oddly enough, the thought comforted me. Just as his breath on the back of my neck did when it held the panic attacks away in the dead of night. I never sought comfort before – I didn’t know trouble – and, if I ever found it, it lay in a successful assassination. This quest for inner peace required me to adapt.
Like everything else these days.
But I refused to complain. My mind was my own. I wasn’t a manic-depressive with weird urges and half-coherent thoughts anymore. I was nanobot-free. I got rid of the ten pounds the weird hormonal trials made me gain. I had a friend and was an imperfect assassin.
I could live with that. I had to.
As I stood in the underground greenhouse where I grew my nightshades, I knew I was ready; the room had scared the hell out of me for the past three months.
“I can live with it,” I murmured. Perched on my shoulder, Frogster croaked its approval.
What I couldn’t live with was the knowledge that other people might suffer the same faith as I did, turned into something they were never meant to be.
How many assassins from my network wouldn’t be assassins at all? How many children would be born with a will of their own if the technology went public? How many parents would craft their offspring into what they wanted? Many did already without more tools to assist them.
Yes, such technology could cure birth defects in the womb and stretch everyone’s life to an unholy length. As every other tech, it would be misused. I was living proof of that. It would start with super soldiers to protect our country then plague every home.
I refused to accept that just as I refused to blame my father as long as I didn’t have solid proofs. A few waves in my hormonal readings – possibly natural waves – weren’t enough to make me hate him. I had my limits and no technology could force me to overcome them anymore.
Training challenged me since the operation and I raged when my arms tired after only fifteen minutes of punching. I planned to resume a rigorous exercise schedule next week or I would never be able to infiltrate Merrilyn Plaza and grab The Device. Fetching it had become a personal matter for me too but I doubted it would be enough to take down the empire and keep it from being reborn.
An idea crossed my mind.
“Vexx,” I yelled as rushed from the greenhouse to the lab. “Vexx!” He was nowhere to be seen. Without a pause, I walked to his private quarter.
My fist knocked his chest instead of the door.
“Are you okay?” He asked half-annoyed, half-worried, massaging his pectoral muscle.
“Where are the nanobots?”
He frowned in disbelief. “That’s why you wanted to break down my door?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and he pointed a shelf before I tapped my foot. After a bit of fumbling, I found the glass vial containing my nightmares. There were so many nanobots that they looked like a small drop of mercury, moving around as a liquid though they were in fact minuscule solids stashed over one another.
“If I was to send that to a team of specialists,” I held the vial at eye level between my index and my thumb, “would they know what they were looking at?”
Vexx walked up to me, a quizzical expression on his face. I had seen this frown several times in the past months, when he tried to figure out what was going on in my head while I listened to weird music or hyperventilated for no apparent reason. He had been very patient and understanding, more than I would have been, had the roles been reversed.
“After three years of research. Maybe.”
“Any way to speed it up?”
“The scans of your brain would help.” He fetched them in a drawer before I asked. “What are you planning?”
I smiled. “How much faster?”
“Seven days or they’re overpaid,” he sighed. “What for?”
My smile widened but didn’t answer. I could keep my mood swings in check and didn’t require a chaperon anymore. Refusing to share my idea might seem trivial to Vexx but it worked toward rebuilding my secret garden; I had spent three months over sharing. Not that I went as far as to say something I would regret but still.
Despite my intention to do all of this by myself, I told my plan to Vexx on the next day; he already had access to the blueprints of the closest FBI office. Why bother looking further?
Compared to a lot of buildings, the FBI’s security was laughable. Someone apparently thought that with all the special agents in there, no one would dare attempt an infiltration.
They didn’t know me very well.
But then, if they did, they would have collared me by now.
Once I got the plans from Vexx, it took me half a day to figure a way in; it was an old building and the air ducts hadn’t been retrofitted yet. Another half went by as I watched the security cameras to find my destination. I put my plan into motion the very next morning, taking way too many precautions for my taste. I spent most of my time in the ducts but wore my Alice face nonetheless. On top of that, Vexx looped a couple of security cameras for the minute I stood out of the ducts to drop an envelope on the desk of my FBI agent.
“Special Agent Gabriel Walker,” the plaque on his desk read. A righteous and tasty name. I liked it.
On my way back home, I found myself wondering what face Gabriel would make when he read my letter. I sat in front of the security footage as soon as I got home; his reaction could tell me a lot about him.
He strode into his office with purpose and an armful of files. At first, the yellow envelope didn’t awake suspicion. It changed when he picked it up and felt the glass vial roll within the paper. Gabriel dropped his files on the corner of his desk, his mind already entranced by the study of my package. He cautiously emptied the content on his desk, his eyebrow rising at the sight of the vial, the brain scans and the labeled analysis of my chemical reaction to various stimuli. His face showed puzzlement as he started reading the note.
“Meet me on top of Millenium Tower in two weeks. Ten o’clock,” the letter said. “I’m not a killer.” Nightshade’s sticker signed the letter. “PS: Sorry for Tasing you. ;)”
Gabriel shook his head.
Then smiled.

16b – Deal >>


About Aheïla

Somewhere in Quebec City, Aheïla works as a Game Design Director by day and writes by night. Known for her blue hair, unyielding dynamism and tasty cooking (quails, anyone?), she’s convinced “prose is the new crack”. She satisfies her addiction daily on The Writeaholic’s Blog and weekly on Games' Bustles View all posts by Aheïla

5 responses to “Killing Time OST – 16a – Deal

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