Infiltration Part1.8 – Lucius Ricardo Persson

More than anything, Esther wanted some straightforward answers, but all Sam could say was that Macy wanted someone to guard the two of them.

“I just hope Mira can learn to live with this,” Esther said as she and the deputy made their way to the governing district. “I don’t understand why she reacted to Shafer’s presence so aggressively.”

Sam peeped at her from the corner of his eye, uncertain about speaking further on that matter. He began with an almost quivering start. “Is she someone who values her privacy?”

Knowing where they both came from, either of them being anal about privacy seemed more than a little hypocritical. Things would have been different this morning if Shafer was a servant to the Mother, but the fact of the matter was that he had no ties to the Mother – probably didn’t know who Mírre was.

“I don’t think that was really the point of her outburst,” Esther argued after a long pause. “It’s just that even when the Domain was looking over us, it was at least the same people every day. She just must not like the idea of a man watching her sleep.”

“That’s a fair point,” Sam acknowledged. “Well, I’m sorry you guys didn’t get the best wake-up call. Originally Macy asked me to do it, but – ” He trailed off.

“Really?” asked Esther, looking somewhat amused. “I think Mira would have liked that better.”

That last comment almost made him double-take. “You think so?”

“Well, you’re definitely friendlier than Shafer.” And without any words on Sam’s part, the two endured a shared moment of silence as Esther, lost in thoughts that Sam could not begin to comprehend, drifted slightly to the side, catching herself before going too far off-course.

One question had alluded her the entire time and had continued to do so as Sam guided her through town: “Is there something specific the Director wants to talk to me about?”

“Like a topic of interest?” Sam inquired. “He honestly didn’t say anything about that – just that he wants to see you both soon.” He paused. “He would have rather seen both of you at once, but I told him about Mira’s condition and he accepted that that’ll have to happen some other day.” To say he accepted it was a little misleading.

“He didn’t tell you anything at all?” asked Esther – to which Sam simply shook his head. Her voice coming nowhere near as hesitant as she had intended, Esther almost regretted her next few words. “Is the Director okay?”

The question had clearly struck some kind of nerve; Sam’s grimace was enough to make that clear – even if he did try his best to clear the reaction from his face.

Still he played coy, almost stopping when he asked, “What do you mean?”

She remembered the conversation she and Mira had had with Shafer the night before. Knowing she couldn’t back out now, she continued. “I just heard from someone that the Director’s beliefs are…uncouth.” She struggled to come up with the nicest way to say it. “Just that I shouldn’t try arguing with him unless I want trouble.”

While he hadn’t completely stopped them in their tracks, the silence on Sam’s part was enough to solidify that she had misspoken. “Sorry – that’s just what I heard.”

More silence ensued – and now following behind as opposed to walking side-by-side, Esther had little way to tell what he was feeling, but she could guess when she heard a light snicker. “Whoever told you that isn’t entirely wrong,” he confessed.

“How’s that?” Esther asked, rushing up to meet his side again.

“You’ll find out when you meet him.” Out of everything about this conversation, the only part that called for some concern was the fact that someone had already told Esther about the Director’s oddities.

Knowing Esther must have been itching to get away from the topic of discussion, Sam attempted to change the subject. “But hey – it’ll be a bit before we’re there, so I want to know: was there anything else down in that tunnel you found that we weren’t able to get through yesterday? I know we were kind of quick about it and you seem to be doing better now than what I heard you were like when Rand found you.”

The woman had almost forgotten about how sickly she felt shortly after escaping the river. Even so, there was little outside the major details she had already brushed up on – until she remembered some of the documents she had read.

“I did read a paper I found down there. There was a really dusty room with a bunch of documents. It must have been written when the previous owners of that place just got the generator.”

His attention clearly grabbed, Sam inquired further. “Were there any Autorian documents – stuff that looked like it was written by the Domain?”

“No,” she replied. “Any talk of anything Autorian was completely reserved for Autorise S.A.”

“Oh, good God!” Sam chortled. “How old was that doc?”

“About sixty years. And what’s more is that the paper was complaining about a change in converters – and the converters I saw once I got down to the generator were outputting to a format that the Domain doesn’t use anymore.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “You know what the formats the Domain uses? Were you some kind of technician for them?”

Again she wished she had stopped herself while she was ahead. “I worked with the AI there,” she half-lied. “So I know that the plug that the generator used doesn’t work with anything the Domain is making now – not without yet another converter.”

Heeding her words, Sam nodded, which she took as a prompt to continue.

“And the generator,” she began. “I don’t know how it’s still running if it’s been sixty years since that place was operational or since this town was operational, but it’s still running – and it needs to be turned off soon because – ”

“Whoa, whoa – hold on!” Sam interrupted, finally stopping them in their tracks. “You’re telling me that the generator has been running nonstop all this time? That’s actually what it looks like?”

Tilting her head up to meet his gaze, Esther blinked, coming within a handful of millimeters from touching him. “I think so,” she replied. “But I don’t think it’s actually generating anything anymore; it’s just running by itself without any rhyme or reason.”

For the first time since they had met, Sam faced away without a word, as if worried she would catch a glimpse at him in his weakened state. He mumbled something she could not hear, then flipped around to face her, though he refrained from looking directly in her eye. “That could mean a few different things,” he started, taking a deep breath before he continued. “Either someone is down there maintaining that thing, or the generator is on a path to self-destructing any day.”

Had he not interrupted her, Esther was going to say that last bit out of his mouth. “Right.” She wanted to say something else, but nothing else would come out.

Continuing their walk to the Director’s tent, Sam went ahead with his explanation, Esther in tow. “You see – we suspected there was a generator somewhere down there,” he acknowledged, then paused again as a new thought occurred to him. “But the fact that it’s running and hasn’t broken means – ” Another pause. “It makes me think it could be a coil spinner.”

Where usually she would have preferred to play dumb at the mention of such technology, Esther genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.

“Some old energy format that failed,” he clarified. “One of Autorise’s competitors back in the day tried to make something that would be quicker and cheaper than the regular Sednium rods – which means that if the generator blows up now, the blast won’t be as bad as it would be if it were using rods.” After saying this out loud, the man heaved a sigh. “We wouldn’t deal with anything on a nuclear scale, but it still won’t be pretty if that thing goes off. Something needs to be done about that generator once we’re done with the Director, assuming he doesn’t have other plans for you. Coil-based systems might be more efficient than sednium in the long-run, but there’s no way that thing can still be functioning without some loose bolts scattered around.”

Hearing him talk about loose bolts reminded Esther of all the pieces that had fallen off that robot. If that many pieces had fallen off one android, she didn’t want to think about how many had shaken off the generator in its volatile state.

“Going back in there sounds dangerous,” Esther commented, as if she wanted to dissuade the man from doing his work.

To that, Sam shrugged, the corner of his lips turned up just enough for Esther to notice. “A lot of what I do is dangerous; it’s all part of the job. Plus it would potentially be more dangerous if we just left that thing as it is.” He paused. “Speaking of dangerous: some of those traps that you and your friend walked into are set up around that area, so just keep close to me when we get there.”

But for now, they had someone to meet. “I can see the Director’s tent,” said Sam.

This must have been the government district, then – at least that was what Esther could infer from Sam’s claim that the Director’s tent was nearby. If he hadn’t said anything, she never would have guessed this was where the government was gathered, as there were no banners or any other signs of authority hung up. If the goal of not carrying on such an age-old tradition was done in an effort to keep the local leaders’ homes as inconspicuous as possible, these luocans succeeded. As age-old as flag-hanging was as a practice, the authoritarian AI of the Autorise Domain still recognized it as a legitimate form of marking territory. To the flesh of the Domain, it was the most natural way to signify alliance to the state – yet the Disconnected sought to abandon such principles.

Only one of the tents in the area was guarded – and it was the tent Esther and Sam were headed toward. “Oh, damn,” he mumbled, eyeing the guard. “James wasn’t there when I left.”

The guard stood short, yet firm, a rifle in his hands. “What is it, Sam?” he said, gesturing the barrel at the the ground in front of the visitors’ feet.

Sam gave him a smile as he gestured toward the woman at his side. “This is one of the new visitors we have been talking about,” he said. “James, meet Esther!”

“If you’re expecting me to shake hands with her, you know I can’t do that,” the guard grumbled, gaze locked on the woman. “Not when I’m on duty.” Turning his gaze toward Sam, he continued, “I take it you want to introduce her to Director Persson? Because I still can’t let you in. The Director has said he will be busy all day with his work.”

To the surprise of the three of them, a voice called from the tent behind James. “I am actually able to see people now!”

The three of them all hesitated to react, James eyeing Esther as if she were to blame for his looking like a fool right now. Without argument, he shrugged and slid to the side to allow the two of them in.

Esther and Sam stepped in without a word.

While Sam had grown accustomed to the Director’s archaic method of organization, Esther struggled to figure out if there was a method behind the placement of the paper schematics, cartographic tools, and weapons she saw about the place. The Director was smart enough to keep all his weapons on the side of the desk opposite of the opening – but the fact that she could see them stacked on top of each other at all was definitely cause for concern. Beyond the weapons, the lone MDA on his desk was the most polished item in the area. Were it not for the beard, she might have assumed he was younger than Sam – for once he revealed himself from behind the desk, hidden behind a slab of plywood, his aura changed from that of an overworked man to that of an excited boy.

“Oh yes – thank you for coming, both of you!” he cheered, speaking faster than the newcomer had anticipated. “Sam, my boy – I take it this is Esther, yes?”

“Yes, she is,” Sam replied, noticing as his commanding officer had already locked eyes with the newcomer.

“Splendid!” he beamed, urging the two of them to take their seats in front of his desk as he went to do the same. As her eye drifted away from his, Esther caught the map in the middle of the desk, noticing several of its spots had been marked in red or blue. It was only after the Director raised himself in his seat when her gaze returned back to the center of attention.

“And the other one,” he began, still beaming. “That would be Mira, correct?”

“Yes,” she replied, “that’s Mira.” Hoping to at least somewhat reciprocate his enthusiasm, she returned his grin with one of her own. “She is still in our tent, but she’s doing okay.” She swore she could see a sparkle in the Director’s eyes.

“The bear trap!” he interjected. “I must apologize; it is unfortunate that the trap caught you and not somebody more deserving of such punishment. I hope now you realize that the wilderness is no place for a lady such as yourself to wander. But by now you must have found refuge with us, yes?”

Catching on to his histrionics, Esther almost needed a moment to rethink the words he had spoken before replying. “Have we found refuge?” she said, repeating his words. “I think so. I have only been here for a day, but so far things seem good.”

Before she could speak another word, the Director cut in again. “But tell me,” he began, putting a cap on his energy. “You and your friend – you belonged to the Domain, yes?” Esther and Sam both flinched.

His seemed to have been intentionally worded to be as damning to answer as possible.

Sam could have sworn had he never told the Director that the newcomers were Autorian.

“From Toubane?” the man continued in his guests’ silence. “Or some other city?”

Esther blinked a few times, contemplating if she should answer the question at all. “Rhobane,” she answered honestly.

“Ah, I see,” he said, nodding. “I came from Toubane before that city was demolished. Most people were deported to other cities; others escaped. That’s just how it was.”

“Oh.” Despite what Sam had told her about many of these luocans bearing Autorian blood, she did not expect the Director to be of such a breed of luocan. “How were you able to tell I was Autorian?”

“Because you just told me!” he cried, cackling.

Sam wanted to groan.

In an effort to save herself before further questions arose, Esther continued. “Mira and I had a guardian who was walking with us outside the town’s border.”

“Interesting,” the Director murmured, hunched over his desk – quite uncomfortably, given the height of his seat – as he listened. “And what exactly was the Domain wanting to do with you out there?”

“We didn’t know. The guard took us outside Rhobane and left us with no resources.”

“And what do you think the Domain would have done to you if you tried going back in?” he prodded.

Esther swallowed. “I don’t know. And I don’t think I want to know, either.”

“Oh, I understand,” replied the Director, his tone as pathetically empathetic as he could make it. “And your friend doesn’t know, either?”

“No, sir,” Esther answered.

“I am sorry,” he said. “But if nothing else, I am glad to have you here now; that is more than what the Autorise Domain can say for its people.”

More than anything, the knowledge that this man had once been in the same system as her had Esther yearning to learn more – about his origins and what all he had done in the Domain. The fact that he had come from Toubane told her that he had joined the Disconnect about fifteen years ago – when he would have been a teenager, most likely. She wondered if they had crossed paths before, but she doubted it. Perhaps that was a good thing, as due to her lack of aging, it might have come across as suspicious to the Director if he saw the same person, unchanged, years after his departure from the Domain.

Catching Esther in her deep thought, Sam jumped back in. “We actually discussed a bit about the passage on the way here and I found out Esther apparently worked with the AI there,” he explained. “Apparently she knows a bit about the Autorian formats.”

The Director cast an inquisitive glance at Esther. “Is that so?” Well I would be happy to offer you some work to do in that passage once we get to know you better.”

An offer already? And from the leader of the camp? “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, elation shining upon her countenance.

“Yes – well, Esther: it was nice meeting you, but I must return to my work. There is a lot for me to cover and the chance to meet a new lady is just enough to break me out of it, but I must return to my work now.” With that, the Director motioned both of them to stand and leave.

As Esther hoisted herself from her seat, Sam interjected. “Wait –”

“Please, Sam!” Persson begged, lowering back to the space beneath his desk, his face hidden again behind the wooden paneling. “I will have someone call you over when I am done.”

Sam opened his mouth to speak again, but was stopped by a voice from outside. “You heard him, deputy!” James called.

His lips pursed, Sam took another look toward the desk, received no response, then gave in, gesturing Esther to come out with him. All the while James stood idly by, rifle still held tight as he eyeballed the two. Headed back to the tent where Mira now resided, it was only once they were out of the guard’s earshot when Sam let out a sigh.

“That was sudden,” Esther acknowledged. “And kind of rude.”

Sam rubbed a temple. “You don’t say.” He shook his head. “Sorry. I just wanted to tell him about the passageway and see if we could get some guys to come down with us, but he doesn’t seem to be in any mood to talk about it.”

“Well, you’re his second-in-command, aren’t you?” she inquired. “Wouldn’t you be allowed to take some people yourself.”

At that, Sam snorted. “He would probably think I’m attempting a coup d’etat if I tried something like that.” Another sigh. “But yeah – that’s the Director. Do you think you two will be able to get along?”

“I guess so,” Esther said. “I’m actually surprised how friendly he was when we got in, but he spoke so fast it was difficult to keep up with.”

“You don’t think he’s too nice?” Sam inquired.

If the level of nicety was meant to be some kind of warning, Esther was more than capable of keeping that thought in the back of her mind. She hesitated to reply. “Maybe he was,” she admitted. “Why do you ask?”

By now they had started to drift along the northern border of camp – indicated by the visible row of evergreens around this part of the area. “I guess it’s complicated,” he replied, barely keeping himself from sighing again. “He’s usually not very nice to newcomers unless they’re women.”

Esther could sense the unfortunate implications already.


Originally this and Part 1.7 were going to be the same chapter, but you know how it is. I think.

Anyway, the Discord is open, as always!

Infiltration Part1.1 – Ignite

An optic flare buzzed through the cable framework. It pulsated again, then again – continuously and indecipherably at a rate untraceable by human eyes. Every electron flip and memory reallocation told everyone where everything was – and so Rhobane flourished. Yet among the billions of transmissions, the most common decipherable by the human consciousness were two words:

Enflamiere Mírre.

For those born into the Autorise Domain, the phrase held little meaning, yet it distinguished itself among the static and garbled text. For those created into the Autorise Domain, the two words could not be repeated enough – for as long as the Mother guided their will, her AI servants would continue to light the flame that sustained her resolve.

The occasional primitive AI scattered about Rhobane and other Autorian cities helped spread the mantra so that the more advanced AI could hear for themselves. Invisible signals passed through without the Flesh’s knowledge – and for their own good, as well as the good of the Domain and the Mother.

Pocketed in a hive, a cluster of etternel androids rested in Rhobane’s headquarters, awaiting the signal to wake up at the time previously specified. Each one carried the appearance of the Flesh, slept like the Flesh – but unlike the Flesh, they were controllable, reliable, sustainable. Those who did not sleep were either working in the headquarters building or maintaining order among the Domain’s citizens. Whether inside or outside, every android had one sole duty: keep the Mother’s flame alive.

162 of 1000 AI in Rhobane were asleep. 14 needed repairs. 39 of those asleep were etternel. 1.04% of all AI were fully up-to-date. 2.89% were in need of reintegration within the next quarter. 25.23% of those 2.89% were unlikely to return from reintegration with any usable parts. Two of those 2.89%, instead of being reintegrated, were ordered to prepare for infiltration – both etternel, both the first of their kind to carry on such a burden.

Enflamiere Mírre.

It flashed in her brain the moment she awoke. Mira blinked; her tie to Rélhum – and thus Mírre – had loosened in her sleep. Suddenly she had a much easier time forgetting about her serial number. Assuming this would end up being her last day in Rhobane or any Autorian city at all, it was best to forget.

A neon green light flashed below her chin, telling her to unplug the physical tie to Rélhum now that the software had ejected her consciousness. Releasing a latch on the back of her neck, the android removed the collar around her throat, pulling it frontward so the attached needle that had lodged itself to the front of her neck could make a clean disconnection. Immediately thereafter, the flesh that the needle had penetrated started to regenerate. By the time she placed the collar on its hook in the wall in her cell, the tiny hole left by the collar’s needle had all but vanished.

A message appeared almost immediately after she activated her wireless connection.

e4-fm4 and e4-f85,

If there are any further duties you must attend to for today, have them completed ASAP. A station will depart at 1100. Civilian attire has been placed in your gear cabinets; after fulfilling work, change into these clothes and remove all gear from your cabinets.

Once you board the train, take time to download the full mission briefing if you have not done so already (#//AUTODO/RHOBANE/ETTERNEL/CLS/BRIEF/e4/f*…/BRIEF091887.abrf).

Once the train reaches its third stop at Zeibane, move west and slightly north until a camp is seen near the lake. Take extra caution, as luocan traps may be set up if the camp has been up for more than a week.

You are to return when one of the following occurs:

  1. The camp is retired
  2. The location for the camp turns out to not be anywhere close to where we initially believed AND cannot be located from your position
  3. One or more of the settlers presents a serious threat to your well-being that you cannot fight
  4. The residing luocans have discovered your true allegiances

Do NOT engage in combat unless required for self-defense. For the sake of blending in, such abilities as retains to your superhuman strength or a nuclear sednium cores must not be revealed. The purpose of the mission is to integrate and infiltrate, not attack.

Enflamiere Mírre.

After reading through, Mira stepped from her cell, walking out at the same time Esther did.

“Mira,” said the other android, showing warmth for their new naming convention. “I just read the message. Is today busy for you?”

“It will only be if things don’t go according to plan,” replied Mira.

They started walking down the corridor, practically shoulder-to-shoulder as they went, the discharge of Mírre’s omniscient presence emitting a pleasant discord their ears could barely detect. “You haven’t met a luocan before,” Mira claimed.

“No,” Esther admitted. “And you haven’t either, have you?”

“I have not.” Worse than that: pioneering the act of infiltration for the Domain left them with little knowledge of the luocans’ culture. Remembering human and luocan culture would not be difficult, but the thought of having to interface with its people and integrate into their society did not leave either android with the greatest confidence. She could seldom imagine a scenario where they left the deprived luocans to pick up the shattered remains of their reprobate society. If the Mother Mírre could assume physical form, she would surely leave Rélhum to destroy those who insisted on living in disconnect from the Domain.

Esther was struck with a question that had troubled her all week, but did not dare escape until now: “Do you think we will make it back?”

Would they return? Possibly. Would they return in one piece? That remained to be unseen. “I can only think what Mírre wishes me to believe is true,” Mira answered. “Though it would be imperative for us to return, the Domain would still go on.”

Even still, her partner did not have any reason to believe they would make it back safely, but if the Domain itself believed they would be okay, then she had no reason to doubt it herself. If only the Domain would give an answer.

Nearing the main elevator, Mira called for a lift. “It really is a useless thing to worry about,” Mira proclaimed, taking a step away from her partner as they waited.

“Maybe that’s just the kind of thing we think about when we are given a second to think,” Esther mused.

A neon “B5” cast a bright-orange glow on them from above the lift’s entrance. It almost came as a relief when the elevator turned out to be completely empty. From there, Mira and Esther made their way up, the elevator’s glass walls providing them a clear view of the nest from which they had just emerged. Several etternel continued to flood back and forth down the winding, labyrinthine corridors, making their way through by instinct – almost insectoid with their precise memories of the tunnels they called their home.

The androids noticed the slightest glint of reflection in the glass walls. The green eyes and short, black hair that signified etternel from humankind had long been erased – with Esther’s hair growing over her shoulders as Mira’s, made permanently blonde, curled around her ears. They were both impure, but if the Domain requested a contradiction, then it wasn’t truly a contradiction.

In enough time, the elevator pulled up to the first base floor – at which point the androids made their way to retrieve their gear. At the same time, a thought occurred to Mira: “I never asked you back – are there any tasks you still need to get through?”

Esther hesitated as she strapped her protective vest on, her helmet sat atop her longsword – sat a little too close to the blade’s kinetic switch for Mira’s comfort. “I actually have the most convenient job today: watching the same train station that’s going to take us to this camp.” Even better was the fact that the station was no more than a two-minute walk from the building’s main exit.

“I’ll be sure to make it back from the commerce area in time,” Mira replied as she set the chainwhip in her holster, the cracks in its body giving a lot to be desired. “Or at least try to; you know people in town can be.”

Almost fully dressed, Mira and Esther strapped their helmets on, the protective gunmetal of their masks concealing their faces as they saluted to each other, right arms bent in acute angles as they each rested the corresponding fists on their left shoulders – at the same time the left arms pointed in a parallel direction down their backs, left fists resting just above their right glutes. All the while they squared their feet at each other for just a few seconds’ time before returning to ease.

“I will be back in time,” Mira promised. “No matter what happens, I will see that I am.”

And from the exit, the androids went their separate ways, Esther walking to the station as Mira, atop the hill, took a look down at the residential and sub-commerce districts. The rails and cables were busy as ever, but that did little to discourage her.

Over the years, the cable framework proved strong enough to hold the etternel’s weight and serve as a means of transportation. Mira took a quick glance at the bottoms of her shoes and confirmed that the grooves in her arches were in perfect condition.

A small boost from the shoes’ groove propelled the android upward – and with a great leap, she directed herself to the nearest cable, its metal fibers feeding perfectly into her arches. Nearly 150 kilograms of metal and circuitry and flesh and armor touched down, the spinning ridges in her feet grinding along the cable’s surface as she started her way downward. Momentum did the rest of the work for her.

Light flurries of sparks drizzled below. The hollow, metal chamber around her head kept the wind out of her hair and amplified the roaring resistance it provided.

Occasionally she turned on her heel to keep the momentum going, but with as fast as the cable carried her, she needed to make her stop soon.

A colossal web of cables cobbled up what had been an otherwise clear path up until now; she gave a little hop to avoid tripping on an intersecting line. The market was nearby – not far from the bread line.

Several other etternel were nearby – most of them on the ground, but a few traversing the cables as she was. Thanks to their connection to Rélhum, they were able to indicate to each other where they were going at which time – and thus avoid a collision.

It was only hardly a heartbeat after preventing a collision when Mira made one final leap off her cord, landing a safe distance from any civilians.

She touched a hand to her holster, but did not remove the weapon from its secure sheath. Could she feel any sense of relief, it would have made itself known in a sigh.

And thus her job for the day began: guard duty. Pulling again at the network, Mira wondered if she had any new messages, but nothing showed up.

Occasionally she passed by other etternel as she made her walk through the area, occasionally passed by citizens, occasionally by the more lowly condaire robots. A small grouping of people had formed at the bread line, incomparable to the amount of people chattering about in the enclosed marketplace.

A flicker of a signal resonated in her head every time she communicated with one of the nearby AI. She operated in complete silence even as the still-warm soles of her feet crunched the soil underneath. The nearby ravel did not distract her from communicating with other AI, but it did pull her attention off her current task just the slightest bit.

She would never understand their ways. When the needs to survive was earned through the collective effort of all citizens and returned through the governing powers, what need was there to market? Mira could barely think of a reason she would ever want to market herself in any way – unless, perhaps, she was hired to partake in a social experiment. She certainly wouldn’t understand the motivation behind such an experiment, but at least her work in that case wouldn’t be completely antithetical to everything she deemed true.

The citizens in market traded their temporary currency – their “pretend money,” some liked to call it – among themselves before returning to the gate, paying the rest to the Domain, and leaving. One trip to commerce meant one less they were allowed for the rest of the month, assuming they spent any money at all. Some citizens lived around this part of the city, but after having set their commerce area in this specific part of town before the Domain had risen to prominence, it had become a tradition of sorts.

A crowd of children brushed past Mira, brushing her hip and making her worry again that her weapon had been stolen. “Sorry!” one of them chirped. Again she checked her holster. Still there. What was more: the kinetic switch was still off – though she could hardly imagine herself hurting anyone with her chainwhip set to its more lethal mode.

Wary of those kids, Mira only occasionally cast a glance at the market area. Some were grumbling, some were arguing, some were doing both – but despite it all, they showed no signs of delinquency.

But not all citizens were so well-behaved.

A man posing as an etternel is believed to be in the area…

The message caught her off-guard. Mira read the rest. “He is unarmed, but still potentially dangerous. Keep a close watch on any etternel officers who are caught without their weapons; interrogate when a potential target is found.

Again she circled around the area, with still nothing out of the ordinary striking her – no unarmed officers to be found. At one point Mira thought she could see those same children from earlier running off in the distance, but she lost track before she could fully make them out.

Another message came in: “A suspect has been acquired; currently engaged by n4-a85 and n4-k48.

As far as the vigilant gynoid could tell, the suspect had not caused any commotion just yet. She thought this, yet realized how difficult some of the market citizens were, how loud their children were.

A harsh bump to her hip. “Sorry!” a voice chirped – the same one from earlier.

And just as quickly as they had hit-and-run the first time, Mira grabbed a small shoulder. “Hey!” she shouted. She had grabbed a girl – no doubt the source of that voice – as the rest of the group ran off.

Mira felt her holster. Still occupied.

“What are you trying to accomplish?” she demanded to know, bending low to meet the girl’s eyes despite the child having no ability to see Mira’s.

The child did not respond, did not smirk, whine, or cry – just stared back with her mouth slightly open. Mira wanted to believe the girl had words hidden behind those unshut lips of hers, but nothing came without another kick. “Answer me!” said the android, this time louder than before, yet just as monotone.

Rather than quiver away, the girl – seeming no older than twelve – blinked. Her lips closed for a moment as a smirk crossed, coinciding with a sapaku stare and a light buildup of sweat along her hairline.

“We were just passing through, Miss Officer!” she insisted. “Plus I said I was sorry; was there something else you needed me to say?”

Nothing she could say, but the girl could still help in some way. With a quick facial scan, Mira realized this girl was Emily Aubert: someone who had never been convicted in any way, but she wasn’t sure what to say about the children she had decided to associate with.

Mira huffed, as if trying to intimidate; the sound of hot air brushing against metal almost made Emily snort.

“Do not do it again,” Mira commanded, then stood straight up again. “Failure to comply will result in consequences, little girl.” From there, Mira stepped away, but did not turn her back to Emily.

Emily, meanwhile, squared her shoulders at her adversary. Whatever perspiration had built along the top of her head was gone now, replaced with an air of confidence that made her head look three times bigger than it really was – though perhaps this last part truly wasn’t an illusion, from what Mira could tell.

It took Mira a moment to break from her current predicament and realize she and the child had spent the last minute arguing in front of the breadline – in front of an entire group of adults. Mira would have expected one of the adults to claim her as their own or at least look down on her for the trouble-making nuisance she was, but hardly any of them batted an eye at the conversation. Those who did were still quiet; fewer still seemed more than the slightest bit amused.

When Mira turned her head back to the girl, she noticed a tongue sticking out at her. It was almost enough to make her think Emily was simply drained of attention and was happy to get it from a machine.

Before she could reprimand the child once again, the officer received another message: “Target is on the run. Knowing she needed to keep her guard up, Mira reached for the weapon at her hip – at the same time a plastic crack split the air.

She flinched. Emily snickered. A hand reached between two breadline attendants’ legs, gripping the whip by its hilt and breaking it from the rest of its flimsy sheath as it shattered into a dozen pieces. At the same time, the hand flipped the switch on, sending a green light pulsing along the whip’s body, making the nearby attendants flinch when they came in contact with the weapon as the hand pulled away in a rush.

The smell of burnt fabric wafted about as the rest of the chained tendril twirled about before practically funneling through. One of the people waiting attempted to grab the chain, only to write back as the momentum it had built up caused it to become too hot to touch.

In seconds, enough people had backed away from the thief that Mira the hand belonged to a boy hardly older than Emily.

Caught completely off-guard, Mira ignored the message. She wasted no time, practically forgetting about Emily as she dashed past the recovering queue members, shoving by in spite of how this had bothered them as much as it had her.

Immediately Mira realized that treading after them on foot wasn’t going to be adequate enough, so she instead opted to leap up to the cables above. In seconds, she started grinding ahead. With this need to keep her attention focused on them came an inability to send a distress signal, her sensors fully engaged on the young perpetrators.

Mira sent a signal out to the rest of Rhobane, alerting them to the children’s presence even as they clambered over this other unarmed etternel. As if they had heard the silent alert, one of the children peeked behind their back to glimpse at the terrifying metal plating that hid Mira’s face, the bulletproof uniform that added to her already-heavy body.

As they turned a corner, the whip sparked up against a brick edge. All the while Mira’s flurry of sparks – growing all the more violent the harder she pursued – followed close behind, the sound almost audible against their pounding hearts and heavy breaths.

And for a moment, Mira heard nothing, though the ravel of the marketplace remained and the hum of Mírre’s song stayed with her, guiding her through the maze-like town as – second by second – the children realized they were soon to see how the Domain reignited the flames among the disconnect.


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