Part 2 | Chapter 12 - Operation: Oceanic Memory

Part 2 - Orientation Day

Chapter 12 - Operation: Oceanic Memory

Murasaki is advertising a promising young female for potential military or other special interest acquisition.

The sire manifested a Rattus, but the dam bloodline is of high interest for this candidate. We are predicting 80% probability of a crypto-class vertebrate symbiont, likely a species within the family Celtidae. This is likely to be the candidate out of Murasaki this year.

The candidate has exceptional grades, and has undergone all schooling through to their undergraduate degree. Tractability may be an issue for this candidate, she has a diverse history of minor deviant behavior (theft and vandalism mostly). Details can be provided to interested buyers. We predict there will be a high need for alternative control methods and potential buyers should take this into consideration. We are also predicting a high bond-level on manifestation based on the dam bloodline, which may not guarantee that control of the candidate is sufficient to ensure symbiont control as well. Buyers should take this risk into consideration, nevertheless this still offers an interesting opportunity to a corporation capable of handling crypto-class symbionts.

Pending crypto-class manifestation Murasaki will be holding an anonymous, absolute auction welcoming bids in-person only. Starting price is anticipated to be 2,000,000IE with bids accepted in increments of 100,000IE, pending final species confirmation. Murasaki reserves the right to begin higher. Price reflects the Candidate’s serf status, current prices of city-controlled land, and the unique nature of this opportunity. Candidate is likely to be culled in event of a poor manifestation due to deviant history and bond-level incompatibility with Murasaki operational standards. Murasaki is seeking a sale and all bids will be considered.

Well.

That’s a thing I guess. I never really thought about how the recruiters know to come out. The knowledge I’d be dead if I weren’t here… relief isn’t the word, but it certainly puts into context how much trouble I was in.

I’ve spent the last few hours reading the tablet Regina gave me, combing through my history at Murasaki. It’s been eye-opening, seeing how I was truly viewed by the system, every part of my humanity stripped out and boiled down to ID numbers and employee service records.

The security incidents are weirdly my favorite, almost nostalgic, like looking back on a life that already seems so distant. There is no record of my involvement in the break in to the Lu Lab, maybe they just weren't far enough along in the investigation to add anything when I left. I wonder how my dad is doing? I wonder if Meiko was okay and if they put Harris back on shift once I was gone? I wonder if I’ll ever go back there? I’ve deleted none of it, if I have nothing to remember those people by, at least let this be it. The words I checked so diligently for any hint that someone knew and documented that I could see a little too much aren’t there. I’m not ashamed of the rest of it. Plus, I don’t know if this is the only copy, or what Regina read before handing it to me, best to keep it for future reference.

Pooka is asleep at the base of my feet, tickling my legs with his chill. When he sleeps his voice in my head is quiet. My sense of his body - our second body - is numb, like I’ve sat on my legs for too long.

A line of a clear liquid running horizontally along the glass window of the train drags my attention up. I jolt as another plops on the train window and immediately begins to follow the first, wriggling its way sideways. I shift and press my hand against the glass, staring into the unnerving white fog that lies beyond the protective dome, obscuring the landscape between cities. More follow, dotting against the train and beginning a tattoo of melodic drum beats. I sit up slightly to press my face against the glass, disturbing Pooka who growls as I move.

“It’s rain.” Everett leans on his palm staring out the window too.

“It’s so clear?” I say dumbly, “It doesn’t need to be purified?”

“The air outside the domes is toxic. You read right?”

“Oh shut up,” I bite back.

“Pleb,” he retorts, but mostly his voice sounds bored.

“Call him a mummy’s boy,” suggests Adrian in my ear.

“Nepo-baby,” I hiss on que.

His eyes don’t even glance my way, but that muscle in his jaw flexes. “Keep out of it Adrian.”

Regina snorts, starting to wakefulness where she’d been napping on one of the other armchairs, knocking over her empty glass from the arm of the chair. “Rhett, where we at?”

“Not even as far as Catakalan,” replies Everett, bending from his chair to pick up her tipped glass. His symbiont is perched right at the top of the armchair above his head, carefully pulling each one of its legs one after another into its collection of limbs near its mouth and cleaning the hairs on its toes. Its four sets of eyes gleam, huge fangs dark and silky in the lighting of our cabin as they move.

Regina pats her pockets blankly for a moment and pulls a pair of ID badges from one. “Heads up then, we got work-” she glances around looking for me and scowls when she sees me sitting on the floor still across the room from them, “Oh come on, we’re not going to eat you.”

I tighten my lips and slowly lower my tablet, refusing to reply.

Everett’s brows tighten, his mood seeming to darken as he spins on his chair from the window. “More?”

“Always more,” replies Regina, handing him the badges. “Adrian will brief you both, I’m going to find where the dining cart is,” she says as she raises herself and begins to pull back on her suit jacket.

“Both?” I ask, “You can’t be seriously sending me on something?”

She bends to slip her feet back into her heels, “Fastest way to learn is on the job. Rhett’ll keep you safe, won’t you?”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“What do you mean safe?” I lean forward on both hands and she hustles out of the cabin door, it slides shut behind her without a reply.

Adrian clears his throat in my ear, “Don’t worry… it’s an easy one.”

“Operation code 'Oceanic Memory'. Your objective, complete pick up of an information packet being smuggled out of Diabardi Minerals. Catakalan is the second largest port facility in this hemisphere and the hub for most of Diabardi’s exports. We will not be entering the port today, instead a drop has been previously arranged with a contact from Diabardi that you will both retrieve - they are unable to exit their work zone of Diabardi’s operations. You will need to fake credentials to exit the intra-company train station and get local transport to Diabardi’s mobile work hub. On the ground we can make contact with an Obsidian Security depot if you need it. Our contact has already confirmed they have dropped the information in a toilet block by the main mess. Said they put it in a plastic tub and dropped it in the back of a tank a few days ago, we don’t know exactly which one, just ‘the block by the mess’. Then you’ll exit and return for the next train to tail Regina on the return.”

Adrian’s voice flows smoothly as he briefs us, a lazy drawl as if he’s half paying attention to the details he’s relaying through the Vespa.

“When’s the next train?” asks Everett aloud.

“Your operational window is four hours. Regina left you your ID badges and some city-monitors. You’ll need to clone local credentials once you are on the ground. Tickets for the next trip are in her suitcase.”

“ETA to Catakalan?”

“Another half hour. The train will stop for twenty minutes.”

“Any expectations for trouble?”

“None, if you are in and out clean. This should be a simple pick up. Perfect for a newbie.”

Everett sucks the air in between his teeth, “Great, babysitting duty.”

He stands up and unzips Regina’s bag, instead of clothing or makeup like I might expect from a woman like her, it unfolds to an assortment of weapons and tools, including the matt black grips of several handguns mounted to the lid as it folds open. Who the fuck is this women and what has she gotten me into? Everett is obviously unphased, turning over the vest of body armor on the top and retrieving a tactical belt that appears to be a single band. He tugs his white collared shirt up and begins to secure it around his waist.

“You know how to use a gun?” he asks as if it’s a normal question.

‘Why would I know how to use a gun?” I snap back. Pooka lifts his head disturbed by our arguing, his mind reconnecting with mine as he awakens and I can feel him sift through my memories to update himself. He lingers through my memories of reading my records, like he is studying them.

Everett shrugs, tugs the slide to check the chamber of the smallest handgun, and slips it into a holster on the harness followed by a pair of magazines. He then straightens and adjusts position slightly to check his appearance in the mirror behind the bar as he smooths his shirt and black slacks over his new cargo.

We should learn.

I blink as Pooka begins to mix his thoughts with my own. Why? You seem pretty confident in your own powers?

Only if we are together, we overlap now. When one dies the other will follow. You cannot be the weaker of our bodies.

I’m not weak.

You are very soft and full of water, when holes are cut in you, you will spill out.

And what about your body? Pooka’s form dissipates, thinning slightly in response to my question. I can see through the swirling tendrils of his black fog to the cabin’s carpet on the other side, before he re-solidifies. Fine, point taken.

“You want anything?”

I glance back over at Everett, securing a holstered knife to his left forearm now. I glare back wearily and instead of answering his question ask, “She always drop things like this on you?”

He starts rolling down his sleeves and doesn’t answer, but I can hear his teeth click from across the room as he clenches his jaw. He bends to dig through Regina’s bag a final time, pulling a small black pouch and tosses it to the floor at my feet. “Take something at least,” he says, before turning his back to inspect the badges Regina left, and an envelope with what I assume is our paper tickets for our new train. He passes both badges to his symbiont who tucks them under two of its legs to balance them on the back of the armchair.

I snatch up the pouch, and quickly tip the contents onto the floor in front of me. It’s a small screwdriver and hex key set, with a hard case box containing heads of various sizes, and a pair of needle nose pliers. I bounce the pliers in my hand thinking, when I glance back up his back is still to me.

“You got electrical tape?” I ask.

He kicks the bag sideways across the floor towards me. I grab one of the handles and drag it closer, carefully avoiding the guns and begin to rummage through the other half. There’s a small bag of heat shrink tubing that I pause on. You can do the heat pump thing right, or can you just generate energy? You melted that wheel off my bag? Pooka lolls his tongue out of his mouth in reply, the surface dark purple and wet. I shove the bag down the pocket of my pants along with the other supplies Everett tossed me.

“Kids, we’ll need more cooperation than this,” chastises Adrian. Everett obviously gets the admonishment in his ear too, or something similar, based on how his back stiffens. He sighs like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, and runs a hand back through his loose curls as he turns to look over his shoulder at me. I tuck tighter into my spot by the window suspiciously when I catch something that looks disturbingly close to pity in the edges of his eyes.

He comes to sit on the floor by the window, at a suitable distance from me like I’m a dangerous animal he’s giving a wide berth, one knee up to his chest. Slowly he stretches and picks up the untouched drink Regina had offered me, turning the clear liquid - ice cubes long since melted - in the glass as he retracts his hand.

“My name's Everett Hawthorne, most people call me Rhett,” he says somewhat slowly, looking at the glass in his hands.

“I know your name.”

“Yeah, cause I just told you.”

“No, cause Regina said it earlier.”

“But now I've told you.”

I'm not sure if this is the most I can expect from him in terms of a warm welcome. I have no desire to make friends with what might as well amount to our new captor, except it has a human face this time.

“You not gonna introduce yourself then?” He asks.

“No.”

He shrugs, “See I tried, fuck off Adrian.”