Episode 2 | Chapter 16 - Welcome to Aquila

Episode 2 - Orientation Day

Chapter 16 - Welcome to Aquila

“My name is Shion, sometimes I go by Aster. Right now it’s Shion. Conrada Dorien, right?”

I have my luggage sitting on my lap, my arms wrapped defensively around the bag I still haven’t opened.

Shion sucks a draft from her vape-stick, turning from me slightly so she doesn’t blow the smoke back in my direction. Her blonde hair is immaculately styled, her outfit best described as abstract art instead of uniform. Her shoulder pads are so voluminous I’m not sure how she moves in them. A familiar Vespa hangs from one ear and an extravagant earring from the other.

We’re sitting at the island of a small kitchen that is off the side of a common lounge area. There’s two big pots with small palms growing in them near the windows. Aquila’s headquarters reminds me faintly of the living quarters of on-call staff where working and living spaces blend, but with so many luxury flourishes that I never even saw in many of the executive living spaces at Murasaki. From what I saw on my way in, there is a variety of shared office, living and working spaces sequestered behind the public facing lobby areas, and presumably bedrooms and other work spaces above and below. Everett didn’t even drop his bags, marching off in silence as Shion collected me on arrival. He was probably glad to be finally done with me.

“Conrad is fine,” I reply.

“I’ll come up with something better,” she purrs and doesn’t pause for me to object. “Welcome to Aquila. I’ll introduce you to most of the folks you’ll need to know, but we can go over your living arrangement and contract first.”

She hands me a tablet and begins to scroll through the details for me.

“This is yours now and is functionally both your city-monitor and hand held here. You’ve been assigned room 4-7. There’s only two other kids in your age-range on the floor with you so we spread you out, no neighbors. There’s a laundry facility and a common bathroom on your floor - boys and girls separate, don’t be naughty now,” she cackles at her joke while exhaling a breath from her vape-stick, twisting her lips to direct the white breath away from me. “Living facilities, associated utilities, all equipment for work, food and non-alcoholic drinks are included. Mia handles reception and most logistics for anything you need, I'll introduce you to her. We take turns cooking and cleaning - there’s a chore roster - can you cook?”

I shake my head.

“You’ll learn. If you are home, you are on the roster, we don’t have much in the way of support staff here. If you are home you’re expected to work an ten hour day - chores are on top of that. We’ve assigned you to the labs already,” I perk up slightly at that fact. “If you are in the field, all the time is work time. Field work is usually announced, you’ll get an email with briefing information - there's a workstation to dock your tablet in your room, and I’ll show you the conference room where most briefings happen shortly. But, it can also happen at the last minute. Usually someone will come find you if that’s the case, or if it's during work hours Adrian will let you know. Oh right, Vespa’s aren’t required on your body in your personal hours, they’ll come and go daily on schedule, you don’t need to worry about it. In case it’s unclear, if you are in the field Vespa is required wearing, locking in as needed. You know what that is?”

My steady glare must be enough of an answer for her. She hums, scrolling down the tablet in front of me with one finger that has the nail painted black, the rest of her nails are painted white, “What else? What else? There’s a doctor who comes by on Tuesdays. You’ll have an appointment with them next week. Oh, compensation. So we pay in Velo, which will let you access just about everything in Apex - your tablet holds your currency credentials. In your free time you are allowed to come and go but you need to check in and out at the front. I recommend not blowing it all on transport and just walking to everything close by. Intertrain doesn’t take Velo though, so don’t get any funny ideas about running inter-company, I heard you’re a bit spicy.”

I grunt, overwhelmed with all the information she is sharing. I guess I can go through it all later.

“Where’s Everett?” I ask, if for no other reason than he’s the only other person I know.

“Hmm? Our Little Princeling? Probably in his room, or in the gym, or down in the gun range.”

“What about Regina?”

“Oh, the Queen herself picked you up did she? You won’t see her much, she’s usually meeting clients and arranging more work. There’s usually only ever a dozen or so of us around at any one time. Here I’ll show you up to your room and we can take a bit of a tour.”

I turn my head as the sound of a whirring electric motor catches my attention, and my eyes widen at the man who approaches. He’s extremely gaunt and dark skinned, maybe in his late forties, with his hair hanging in half-formed dreadlocks over weary hazel eyes. He’s sitting in a motorized wheelchair, crutches peeking out of the pocket in the back of the seat. But it’s not the chair that shocked me.

He is shirtless, a pair of comfortable grey track pants the only clothing he is wearing. On his bare chest, starting at his left shoulder, a huge paper wasp nest is growing from his body, swelling diagonally across his torso to finish at his hip. It bulges before him in the chair like an overweight belly, and every crevice of it is crawling with Vespa. When he speaks it’s a familiar voice I hear.

“Thought I’d come by to properly say hi,” he drawls, pushing the joystick on his chair forward to come closer, “Given you’ll get used to my voice, might as well see my face.”

I can barely take my eyes off his wasp nest and the multitude of Vespa swarming its surface, giving it a blink to phase it out of view so I can at least pull my eyes to his face. Pooka sniffs and stiffens suddenly but I’m too distracted by Adrian to pay any attention to him.

“You’re Adrian then?”

“The one and only.”

Shion leans on her hand, mouth curling into a fond smile, “Adrian doesn’t do field work. Adrian doesn’t do chores. Adrian is the Puppet Master of our little operation.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“I don’t do chores because I’m always doing field work,” replies Adrian lazily, pushing his wheelchair up to the fridge behind the kitchen island and withdrawing a bottle of water. He cracks the lid and takes a sip, his movements awkward and heavy without his wasp nest being visible to make sense of his posture.

“What do you do?” I ask Shion, arms still wrapped around my bag. Pooka gives an odd whine at my feet. Don’t blind us like this.

“Me? Oh you know. I wear faces, I change clothes, I act! Man or woman, charming honey or terrifying threat, and everything in between, Aquila is my stage! And no one looks as gorgeous as I am doing it!” She punctuates her pronouncement with a dramatic flourish, tipping what is revealed to be in fact a wig of blonde hair to show a peek of her shaved head beneath. I’ve seen no symbiont near her so far.

Adrian takes another sip of his water bottle, and nudges his wheelchair stick to drive back out of the room, “Shion is far better looking than Aster,” he adds dryly.

“Don’t you start with me!” pipes back Shion, taking another draw from her vape-stick. “C’mon then, let's get you settled, I'll give you the grand tour.”

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In my room alone, I finally open the bag my dad had packed for me.

The space is generous compared to Murasaki. There’s a double bed in the corner, and a desk and wardrobe to the other side. As promised there is a dock for the tablet and a long cord to connect to the intranet. I have a window, with a roller shade that can be drawn down to block out the light and view into the alley between our building and the next. Other than the most basic furniture, the space is undecorated. Pooka sits at my feet, resting his chin on his paws, his thoughts quiet.

As I fold open the top of the bag, I can’t help the tear that rolls down my cheek. On the top, is the laminated drawing of a Cervus from home. I carefully pick it up, flicking the corner that’s been bent slightly in my travel to try and straighten it. Even realigned, there is now a diagonal crease in the plastic, marring the surface. I sniff gently, it’s still perfect to me, and I put it on the desk looking towards the bed.

Next inside is a folded piece of paper, with handwritten messages from a few lab co-workers, Meiko, Harris, Jason and my Dad. I open it just long enough to recognize their handwriting, then with a shaking breath fold it shut again. My fingers tremble, my cheeks growing wet. I don’t have the strength to read the words right now. If I do… I’m not sure what I’ll do. Maybe another day, when I feel more control than I do right now. Finally, tucked within a spare pair of scrubs, and beneath my only set of personal clothing, there is a metal tin. When I click the lid open with my thumb, my pencils roll within.

I fall asleep crying, Pooka’s gentle breaths at the base of my bed as my lullaby.

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I trickle under the door, wafting down the hall as a thin smoke and congealing to pad forward to the central shaft through the building. I don’t need to wait for the metal box to come to me, slipping as mist between the gaps and sinking down to the floors below.

Conrada sleeps, and I remain awake to watch our bodies, just as she did for me. We are surrounded by enemies. Enemies who would take us, enemies who would chain us. Enemies who can never know what we see. What she sees. Without her body's eyes, this body is just as blind to my own kind as the other humans. My precious conduit, who opened her arms in invitation. When I heard her call, I rumbled from my slumber and followed, waking again to find a world always changing. My battle has resumed.

I slip out into the floor of the common spaces and drift, solidifying and trotting to voices. The boy with the curled hair tied into a braided tail is standing over a human instrument that I can smell boiling water in, the not-man-not-woman with him leaning on her hands at the island.

“She’s a bad idea,” says the tail-boy, dropping something in a cup and pouring hot water over it. “That symbiont of hers physically jumped me, almost got us fucking killed on the way into Catakalan. Then she just stole a pen from someone on the bus, right in front of me.”

The not-man leans on her hand, “You get that she’s scared, right?”

“What is there to be scared of?” scoffs the tail-boy. I waft closer to listen.

“She’s been purchased, my Little Prince-”

“Don’t call me little."

“But you are just so cute and little! I can’t help myself! I could call you Chibi-chan again if you wanted?”

“Anything but that.” Tail-boy gives his drink a few stirs with a small plastic tool. I’d curl my lip if my form were more solid, these refined human materials make my mass boil.

“She’s been separated from everyone she’s ever known, Rhett. Then thrown by the Queen on a train and whisked off to who-knows-where and told to just follow orders, wear strange symbionts on her neck, and break into toilet blocks in strange companies. She’s doing rather well if you ask me. We haven't had an external hire in a few years, you've just never worked with one before.”

“That’s no reason to just steal a pen. She’s half-insane. You saw her dossier, that’s not all. With our luck she’ll break something in town at Apex and get us stuck paying fines on her behalf.”

“She’s desperate for control. If it wasn’t stealing and vandalism it’d be something else. You weren’t so different as a wolf cub. Give her time to settle in, feel a little safer. It’ll stop, mark my words.”

“How’s someone even learn to do that?” sniffs tail-boy.

“Really? You’re asking that? You?” chastises not-man, “How’d you learn all the shady shit you do?”

“That’s my point. I grew up doing this, where did she learn it? She just tagged along to break into a lab like it was no big deal, then manifests the first crypto-class symbiont in almost six years in this hemisphere.”

“So, she spent time with technology, actual hardware unlike you, it's not that hard to explain. She was the bargain of the century even at the price we paid, no one wants a crypto bonded to a host that’s unmanageable. Regina’s got a great nose for talent, she just needs taming.”

“Mum‘s made a terrible mistake with this one,” growls tail-boy, blowing on then taking a sip of his drink.

“Well, despite what you think, Adrian agreed. You’re just worried she’ll steal your spotlight. Don’t worry, you’ll always be my Chibi-chan, no matter what.”

“I’m not jealous,” he spits back, “and good luck taming her. That symbiont is bad news. We’ll all end up fucking dead one morning.”

The not-man’s eye’s sparkle, “Please. You live for ‘bad news’. In our line of work, who doesn’t crave a little danger and chaos?”

Tail-boy grunts and leaves the room, carrying his drink out with him. The not-man stays to clean the space and humming to herself, watering the plants before turning off the lights. I wrap this memory in thoughts, bundling it away so it won’t diffuse to Conrada when she awakens. She will learn to deepen the bond with time and then nothing can be hidden from each other, but for now, she is precious and quiet and scared, and I will protect my conduit.

I hover in the dark, smelling and wafting throughout the building. Counting the humans, mapping the spaces, committing it all to memory. I pause by one of the pots of plants, smelling the soil and dark green leaves of the lily growing within. I breath out on it, wafting some of my energy towards the plant, and a stem curls skywards, unfurling a single white flower. I return to watch over my second body as it rests.