It’s always raining in Inersia, our great capital. The city state lies under a permanent fixture of shadowy clouds which constantly cry a river of tears, drowning the earth beneath it in endless sorrow. Hot neon lights provide illumination without heat, advertising a place to stay or goods to be bought. Everyone carries an umbrella, so seen from above the city streets resemble a sea of black as the small portable shelters push and shove their way through the crowds as their owners rush to their destinations. Skyscrapers dominate the skyline, looming overhead to cast an ever early dusk and pitch black midnights in the areas outside the influence of the lights, and in shadowed alleys things lurk in the darkness.

 

Down at the ground level a layer of fog and smoke sticks to the floor, carrying with it the stench of raw sewage from below and the choking fumes of car exhaust. There’s a buzz in the air as the constant chatter around the city reverberates through the streets, intermingled with the ceaseless passage of cars. The cold moon is all that can ever be seen above, a dim dot in the sky obscured by the clouds casting its faint white light on the cityscape below; the sun never shines above us, if there exists a sun I’ve never seen it because in all 28 years of my life not once has anything but the moon shone above this city as far as I’m concerned.

 

Rain spatters onto the brim of my hat as I step out from the protection of the balcony overhang, splashing onto my long coat running glistening trails down its surface. From this height I should have been able to see across the entire city but the thick jungle of skyscrapers defies my attempts to look past it. A Thopter buzzes by fifteen meters above me, even from here I can hear the booming music that its occupants are playing, it floats past ephemeral and almost invisible against the night sky and obsidian glass with its silver-grey plates and silent thrusters. Below me there must be hundreds of cars in the street, all uniform in shades varying only from white to black, with some of the greys in between.

 

It’s another fifteen minutes in the rain before my ride finally arrives, slick black and actually invisible; though I don’t see it until its right beside the balcony I can hear it coming. It materializes in the thin air in front of me, all seven meters of the P-class combat Thopter as the cloaking field deactivates. It’s an alien looking thing, its body all one smooth piece, a stretched out teardrop turned onto its side with the perfectly rounded front end marred by four 25mm auto cannons that jut out at 90 degree angles. Two booms extend from its flanks, attached to which are the silencing cowlings housing its twin thrusters which propel the combat craft, and just left of these towards the cockpit is the access port through which I’m expected to board. The thing merely hovers there, not extending anything or offering entry beyond the access port sliding smoothly opening to reveal a yawning doorway through which I’m expected to get on.

 

I take two steps backwards before I run forwards and vault over the balcony ledge; there is 289 meters of thin air beneath me at this moment and for an instant I look down at the streets below and the endless sea of umbrellas, wondering what would happen if I were to fall. Then I am through the doorway and tumbling, pulling myself on to my feet even as the port closes behind me and I feel the Thopter begin to move now that I’m on board. The water on my clothes rolls off of my body and onto the floor which absorbs the moisture almost immediately.

 

<Good afternoon Captain Tel, did you enjoy your break?> the Thopter asked, sounding mechanical but not insincere.

 

“It was fine, wish they’d give me longer than four hours at a time though.” I answered dryly.

 

<Shall I file a complaint to the upper office for you sir?> though it was smart, it wasn’t quite there when it came to interpreting some of the finer intricacies of human speech.

 

“No, that won’t be necessary. Where ‘we headed today?”

 

<Red light district 7, the file has been uploaded to your profile and should be available for your viewing now.>

 

There were four passenger seats in this back seating area of the Thopter and I settled myself down into one of them casually taking a pair of issue shades from the slot in the armrest. I took a quick look at them before I put them on, they were more stylish these days, rather than the garish set of goggles we used to have to wear while on duty; apparently the higher ups actually understood the meaning of subtlety now. I put the glasses on and mentally toggled through until I had logged in and was looking at my mission briefings.

 

The file was short and to the point as always; awhile back they’d had someone new handling the mission briefings and I’d gotten almost an essay’s worth of information. Clearly they hadn’t truly understood the nature of my department or they wouldn’t have, needless to say I hadn’t received a mission brief like that since, I suspect the perpetrator of the lengthy briefs was either fired or moved to a different department. This file though, contained only a brief outline of my instructions and a portrait of the target; a short haired lady with cool blue eyes, about average in height and unremarkable in dress. I memorized the woman’s look and her whereabouts before closing the file; I wouldn’t open it again until I was done with the mission and back home.

 

“How long till we reach the insertion point?” I asked.

 

<Two hours and twenty seven minutes.> the Thopter hummed cheerfully.

 

“That far? The target is well within city limits according to the file.”

 

<Several other operatives have been dispatched to prepare the operational zone for you, we will be standing by to assist until we are given the signal for you to begin.> as per usual the machine used the omnipresent ‘we’, as though all of us were one and the same.

 

“Alright then, if you don’t need me for anything I’ll be sleeping here in the back. Wake me if you need me.”

 

<Yes Captain.>

 

I slept and there was darkness.

 

---

Can you hear it? Through all of the shadows and the darkness, can you see it? The corruption that spills through the cityscape like deathly ooze, that clings to everything it touches. It’s a hissing miasma that spills over everything, even you.

 

We’re not paid to think about our orders Summers, we just do what we have to do and stay alive to get paid.

 

If you think like that, how can you expect things to ever change?

 

Do you want things to change?

 

Do you like the way things are now?

 

No.

 

Then what will you do?

 

I don’t know.

---

2: Thopters and Fenister

<Wake up Captain.> the Thopter chimed, sounding far too cheery for the task before us.

 

“How long was I asleep?”

 

<One hour and thirty three minutes Captain.> there was the sound of whirring machinery above me, <Your operational kit has been prepared and is awaiting your inspection, would you like to see it?>

 

“Is the ops zone ready? What’s the status of the operatives down on deck?”

 

“Nice to know that you’re concerned Tel, but you worry about doing your job and we’ll do ours.”  A man in full body armour stepped into the passenger area through the doorway leading to the manual command zone of the Thopter, dark against the cool blue internal lights. His face was shadowed but the unmistakable scar which crossed from the left side of the jaw all the way up to the side of the eye in a jagged curve shone brightly even under the poor lighting.

 

“Commander Fenister, rare to see you out these days; I thought you retired from the field.”

 

He gave me a look, a strange smirk on his face, “Does anyone ever truly retire from this line of work Captain?”

 

“Not really I guess, most of our former employees don’t last long in that state anyways. I’m told it's from the frayed nerves resulting from too many years in the field, but you’d know better about that, wouldn’t you.”

 

His smile was grim, “Perhaps I do Captain, perhaps I do.”

 

I felt the Thopter suddenly swerve beneath me; Commander Fenister put a hand on the handle by the doorway steadying himself as we felt the combat craft execute a sudden 180 degree turn.

 

<Evasive manoeuvres are currently underway, please remain seated.> the Thopter droned, its attempt at sounding reassuring somewhat pathetic.

 

“The other operative’s missions aren’t going quite as smoothly as yours went I take it.” I said, raising an eyebrow at Fenister.

 

He shrugged, “Newbies, the lot of them, fresh out of the facility from the looks of it.”

I rolled my eyes, “So they assigned a couple of idiots to prep the insertion zone for an op like this? Are they trying to get me killed?”

 

“Take it as a nod towards you in regards to your efficiency at getting the job done.”

 

The Thopter took a sudden dive towards the ground and this time I felt the dull roar of the combat Thopter’s quad auto cannons opening fire. A reverberating thud sounded through the hull and again the Thopter jerked to the side, this time throwing me out of the seat.

 

<This unit is taking heavy fire, requesting permission to utilize heavy armament.> Officially the armament of a combat Thopter was limited to its complement of heavy cannon on the front end, but in reality command could care less what we equipped ourselves with as long as we fulfilled the tasks assigned to us. The law was on our side, even if some twisting of circumstances and evidence had to be done for us to keep it that way.

 

“Granted.” I growled, feeling the bruises beginning to form from being tossed around the Thopter’s interior. There was the sound of shifting gears and parts that rumbled through the interior before a white flash appeared on either flank of the vehicle. Through the translucent black armor plating I could see the missile pods that had slid out from their concealed ports which were unleashing a salvo of withering firepower as dozens of rockets spat out from the Thopter into whatever target it was engaging us below.

 

<Target neutralized, commencing extraction now.> the Thopter was disturbingly calm, even when it had probably just killed dozens of people, but that was expected, it’s processor didn’t have the capacity to handle that level of emotion.

 

There was silence as the Thopter stopped, hovering somewhere in the aerial column high above the streets; through the translucent plating I could see gaping holes gouged into the side of one of the massive skyscrapers through which thick black smoke poured outwards filling the sky with smog. I heard more than saw the access port slide open; the lighting barely changed as the way slid open revealing the empty night sky. A shadow stepped in through the way and it slid smoothly shut; cool blue lights lit up around the entry point flashing softly asking for our attention. The Thopter was saying that the operative was injured.

 

“I’ll handle it, you should take a look at the ops package that’s been prepped for you.” Fenister began to say.

 

“No, that won’t be necessary commander, I’ll handle this. This isn’t a job for either of us anyways may as well let the seniority sit this one out.”

 

“Seniority? This isn’t matter of seniority, have you taken a look in the mirror lately captain?” I hadn’t but that wasn’t point here, not really.  I chose not to respond and Fenister let me walk out to take a look at our fellow operative.

 

She was a fine young thing, dark in the issue armour looking every bit the soldier she wasn’t. Blood and debris was smeared over her armour and a pool of blood was soaking into the floor faster than the Thopter was absorbing it. I could already tell that she wasn’t going to make it, the massive gash running down her back was too severe for us to treat out here in the field and even if the necessary equipment was available she was already a sickly white from blood loss; whatever had caused this injury had already killed her right then and there when it inflicted it.

 

Fenister was at the doorway, looking down at me and the girl; he frowned ever so slightly before taking the med kit off the wall, selecting a pair of two inch long syringes which he delicately handed to me.

 

“You might as well finish this Tel, there’s no point in retrieving her other than leaving us a body to present to the family. Hell, Command will probably have us dispose of the body in case her death is a cause for other questions to be asked, we’ll incinerate the poor sap ourselves.”

 

I took the syringes, watching the girl beneath me; she was staring up at me intently with a piercing gaze as I considered my course of action, her eyes fixated on the syringes with which I could end her life.

 

“Well what do you want me to do girl? You’re dying and I can’t save you, do you want me to help you die?” I asked quietly, bending down over her to make sure she could hear me.

 

“They were waiting for me,” the words were whispered and though the engines and electronics of the Thopter were all near silent I could still only barely hear her. “They were expecting me, they’ll expect you sir.” Her pain was self evident and I wished that she would stop talking, but when I put my finger over my mouth trying to get her to be quiet she only went on further. “This isn’t right, what I was sent to do wasn’t right, I couldn’t do it, and they tried to kill me. Are you going to do something like that too?”

 

“You are sent out there to do your duty as an operative, nothing more,” I said quietly, as I carefully uncapped the first of the syringes. “It doesn’t matter what you’re being told to do, you just do it; everything has been approved by someone else with the authority to do so, you needn’t worry about who you’re dealing with, or why it’s being done. Thinking about those things is what got you here,” I paused, trying to pick a spot to insert the needle. My, she really was so young, were the recruitment standards really like that these days? “That’s what...got you killed.”

 

Silence followed my words and the Thopter lifted us up into the open air, and the girl just watched me hold the needle above her, the metal tip glinting under the lights above. “You don’t want me to use this, do you?” I said softly, capping the syringe again.

 

Finally I got a response, the slightest nod, imperceptible almost; I would have missed it if I had blinked. I stopped kneeling and allowed myself to sit down beside her, lessening the distance between us. I could see many emotions swirling within those eyes, sorrow, anger, shock, but mostly I sensed a sort of pity drifting between the two of us from her to me. It took a few minutes but eventually she slipped away into oblivion, and it was only then that I allowed myself to shed a single tear. And after that there was nothing, after all, operatives didn’t grieve for the dead.

---

 

Do you ever regret doing anything you’re told too?

 

What do you mean? Orders are orders.

 

Well our orders aren’t exactly what you’d call typical, the tasks we undertake are...difficult to justify at times, don’t you think?

 

I don’t think Summers, I just do.

 

Maybe you should sometime Tel, might do you some good to do something other than combat math with that brain of yours.

 

Manners Summers, don’t make me sick the Commander on you.

 

You and I both know you won’t do that, you’re far too nice.

 

Am I?

 

You know you are, or you’d never have taken this job in the first place.

---

 

3: Insertion

The girl operative was dead, and we still had one more to pick up before it would be my turn to go through the meat grinder. I carefully picked her up and put her into one of the seats, strapping her in carefully so as to prevent her from falling out if the Thopter went through evasive manoeuvres. She looked so petite in the seat, almost like a child sleeping soundly, the gaping wound in her back facing into the seat hidden from sight.

 

<Five minutes till insertion captain, it is advised that you examine the prepared ops package.>

 

I turned to object, but the package had already been placed at my feet behind me. It figured that the Thopter would try to keep me on task even in the face of such terrible death. I frowned, carefully pressing my palm onto the top of the suitcase. A blue pulse spread from my palm in five evenly spaced ripples and as I tugged my palm from the surface, the lid popped smoothly open to reveal the contents of the container it was sealing.

 

The suitcase was lined by soft black velvet, gentle and delicate beneath my hands but as I moved over just two inches my fingertips brushed against cool steel and hard edges, contrasting the velvet of before. The handgun fit nicely in my hand, a small compact thing in plain matte black. It had a simple elegance to it which belied its deadly purpose and its weight felt natural in my hand. Experimentally, I twirled and tossed it a couple of times, catching it as it fell balancing it in my palm, going through a couple of shooting positions. Two additional magazines lay beside the weapon but otherwise the package was completely empty; command it seems, didn’t have any secondary objectives for me.

 

“Ready to go captain? You’ve not much time left before they throw you out and send you in.” Fenister said from somewhere behind me, sounding suitably subdued by the presence of our deceased colleague, but otherwise unaffected.

 

I stood calmly, collecting the contents of the package, holstering the gun at my side and slipping the two magazines into the inside pockets of my jacket. “I’ll get the job done Commander.” I patted down my coat, making sure that there was nothing else on me. The op would require precision and stealth, and though a full set of combat armor like the set the Commander and the girl had worn would have been reassuring, it could potentially compromise my ability to complete the Op. Besides, unlike most of my comrades here I was used to working without armor, I was after all a deep insertion agent; after other operatives cleared out the op zone, only then was I sent in to covertly take on my targets.

 

I stopped as I approached the access way through which I had initially entered. Where was the last operative who had been tasked with clearing the area for insertion? Fenister gave me a look as if to tell me he understood what I was going through, frowning ever so slightly at my hesitation. “The last operative is dead. Ops 9 says the mission has not been compromised by his death and you still have the green light for go time.”

 

“Two operatives dead in one Op? What the hell are they thinking sending me into this?”

 

“You know what Ops 9 does, it sends our best into the maw of hell in the hopes that they can do what others cannot. Take their faith in you as a complement and get it done boy, or I’m going to be real lonely at the bar tonight.”

 

I nodded, turning away to look outside at the ops zone, a ravaged building which was split apart and ripped open by burnt scars and holes that had been blown into its flanks by the operatives before me. Subtlety it seems, hadn’t been on the agenda of priorities.

 

“They did a real number on the combat zone, where am I being set down?”

 

“33rd floor if I remember correctly from the mission brief.”

 

<Your insertion point is the former main lobby of the 34th floor Captain,> the Thopter corrected coolly, <This unit will maneuver itself so that the access way is in the same position as the former elevator circuit which ran the length of the building’s spine, so please mind the gap sir.>

 

“Got it. Anything else for me?” I asked.

 

<That will be all, details on extraction will be as they were in the mission file Captain, good luck.>

 

I strode towards the access way, feeling the Thopter jostle beneath me as it plunged downwards through the air column towards the insertion point; I knew standard procedure, the Thopter wasn’t going to stop for much longer than a couple seconds; to stay still for longer would risk taking fire. I’d have only a matter of seconds to exit the vehicle. I positioned myself at the door, ready to go and when the Thopter suddenly jerked to a halt and the black barrier before me opened up to the sound of howling wind and rain I threw myself forwards and jumped.

 

It felt as though I was suspended in mid air for an eternity before I finally touched solid ground again, rolling to soften the impact. Behind me the Combat Thopter was already vanishing into the darkness, its black armor invisible against the midnight sky. I was standing in the lobby of what must have been some sort of office building; what must have once been pristine marble tiling lay shattered about the floor in jagged shards and numerous three or four civilians in standard office garb lay prone on the floor nearby, the closest of which was slumped behind the desk of what must have been the reception area.

 

The file had said that the operatives sent in before me were to have confined my target to the 38th floor so I had a bit of floor scaling to do but I already knew that the elevators wouldn’t be an option. I had a bit of climb to do apparently. I glanced around the rest of the massive lobby floor and all of its open space, marble columns, and empty floor. A lot of money must have gone into this place to make it look so nice, it really was such a waste that it was all meaningless now. Smashed in windows looked out into the drizzling rain but besides that there really was nothing here for me, not even a way up. I walked back to the elevator shaft from which I had entered; the elevator car was nowhere in sight and the thick cables had been severed, but after my eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the shaft I was able to make out the faint outlines of the upper half of the elevator cable three meters above my head. Now all I had to do was find a way to get up there. Certainly my Ops package hadn’t given me anything for this sort of task, so I was on my own here; I glanced around yet another time and quickly determined that there was little for me to work with here beyond the bodies and the reception desk, which basically only left the reception desk.

 

I walked over and began dragging it towards the gaping opening in the side of the building, ignoring the terrible scraping and scratching sounds of the wood moving over shards of marble. In its current position it wouldn’t give me enough height, I’d have to flip it onto its side. I examined the flimsy sidewalls of the desk and shuddered slightly, I was clearly taking risk here trusting my life with the thin screws which held these side panels in place but really, what choice did I have? I was an operative, I had no choice but to complete my mission, or die trying. Failure would be a blessing at this point anyways; I brushed my hesitation out of my mind and hugged the side of the desk surface slowly pulling myself up towards the upper side panel until I found myself atop the desk, a mere meter below the dangling remnants of the cable. I reached up for the cable and at that moment the side panel failed and cracked beneath me.

 

I was filled with the terrible sensation of falling for a split second before I instinctively reached out and wrapped my hands around the cable; below me I heard the desk screech and topple off the edge of the destroyed floor tumbling into the remnants of the elevator shaft, the booming echo of the desk striking the floor returned back to me only after several ominous seconds. If I fell now, I was toast. I took a deep breath and then I began to pull myself upwards, hand over hand wrapping my legs around the cable.

 

I don’t know how long it took me to scale the cable but eventually after what seemed like hundreds of casual glances towards the wall as I strained to make out the numbers printed above each slit of light which represented an elevator door opening, I finally found myself squinting at the doorway through which I could access the 38th floor. Now came the second problem; transferring myself from the elevator cable to the quite distant entryway to the 38th floor. The cable was far too thick for me to attempt to influence it to swing towards the doorway, and even if I tried it was weighed down by four floors worth of steel cable which was now beneath me, it was up to me to innovate and invent to get myself across the gap again.

 

I glanced around, and confirmed that I could see nothing around me which could somehow help me, before sighing slightly to myself and tightening my grip on the cable. It was time to sit and think this through.

---

 

You are here to serve the government; because of your sacrifices thousands of lives will be saved. You will be our fist, our eyes, an extension of our will and you will serve to enforce the freedom and peace of our people and this glorious city.

 

You will be sacrifices, so that you suffer in the place of others, who they threatened to make suffer; by agreeing to come to this service willingly you will protect those dear to you and prevent their suffering.

 

What are you saying Summers?!

The truth Tel, the truth. That’s why you’re really here, and you know it.

 

That’s not true Summers; I’m here because everyone must do their service for the city eventually.

 

Yeah, keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night but you and I both know which of us is right here, and which of us is pretending.

 

I’m not pretending about anything! You’re insane!

 

Of course I’m insane, everyone here, conscripted into this place has to go insane, how else would we be able to bring ourselves to do the things we do?

 

It’s the will of the government, everything we do here is right?

 

Is it right? Do you even remember what they made you do? Do you realize who you killed?

 

What are you talking about?

 

Did you really manage to bury the memory of what you did on your first Op?

---

4: Jungle Rumble

I don’t know how long I must have hung there, musing on how to get across the gap until I spotted it suspended above me; the elevator car hung silent and unmoving anchored to the segment of cable above, somehow jammed in place onto the line. I climbed, ignoring the screaming protests of the muscles of my arms and carefully stretched out along the bottom of the elevator until I could access the maintenance handholds along the edge. I now swung in midair, held in place only through my tentative grip on the edge of the elevator. I carefully built up some momentum swinging back and forth by allowing my legs to drift slowly through the air until at last I built up enough momentum to vault myself forwards onto the narrow lip of the entryway. I teetered on the edge of falling for a brief moment before I righted myself, and then I busied myself with the task of carefully prying open the elevator doors. It was a mind numbing and frightening task but eventually I managed to pull it off and I found myself looking at an entirely foreign environment.

 

I was greeted by what I could only describe as a vast steamy jungle, illuminated by some sort of harsh artificial sun as I stepped forwards through the doors onto a thick bed of vegetation; I sunk low to the ground, allowing my nose to be filled with a moist earthen scent which worked to mask the irritating prodding at the back of my mind which kept trying to remind me that this place couldn’t possibly be real. We were in the middle of Inersia, the most heavily urbanised city-state for 360 kilometers; there couldn’t possibly be a tropical jungle here. And yet here it was, right before my eyes, a steaming tropical jungle, the moist air filling up my coat and water dripping down onto me from dense foliage above.

 

I was glad then that I was still wearing the pair of issue shades which had automatically morphed slightly to form a protective barrier for my eyes; I was unused to such harsh light after a lifetime living in the darkness. Perhaps this was meant as some sort of security measure for the target, I supposed it could be somewhat effective given that we lived in a world of darkness, but it was still and odd choice to me. Just what had the target been attempting to hide here? They’d gone to such extremes to make this place seem foreign and even here in this city of extremes where technology made almost anything possible this was on an entirely different level of complexity.

A quick glance around me revealed that I was still alone; after overcoming my initial shock at my surroundings I quickly fell back into mission mode, as my training dictated. A rustling in the brush had me scurrying into the shadow of a nearby tree, cowering in the darkness. Yellowing leaves drifted down from above, adding an extra layer to the simple camouflage of my dark grey jacket; I peered out from the shadows, scanning the horizon, hunting for the source of the noise until at last I spotted it, the almost invisible blur which was advancing ever so slowly through the bed of vegetation leaving a trail of bent grass.

 

The handgun was in my hands in a flash, cocked and pointed at the general center of the object; immediately it froze, seemingly disappearing into the background. I hesitated for a split second and then training kicked back in; I fired into the seemingly empty space. The gun kicked back in my hand and filled the shadows with a brilliant flash; an arc of crimson fluid splattered through the air seemingly appearing from nowhere polluting the cool greens of the vegetation below me. I let my aim drift downwards with the target’s expected path of descent as if I’d just shot a human target and fired again and then again watching the splatters of blood bloom onto the floor and on the surface of the still concealed target.

 

A spark shot up from what I judged to be the figure’s chest area and landed in the tall grass, followed by another and then another until with a sharp hiss and then a crack the cloaking device exploded, revealing the prone form of a man beneath it. His armor was strange looking, a dark green carbon fibre and plate set up studded with now fading lights which must have had some function at some point. The overall form was similar to our own standard combat armor but the make and material seemed to be different, more complex and expensive. I would assume the camouflage device that had been centered in the chest plate might have had something to do with that. I pressed my hand against the armor, feeling its strength as I probed the bullet holes; a handgun shouldn’t have been able to penetrate issue body armor like that and upon inspection I found that the armor seemed to be up to par. It wasn’t a weakness in the armor then, so I turned my attention to the weapon I held in my hand.

 

Outwardly the gun was unremarkable, and a quick check of the mechanisms revealed that it was just an ordinary handgun, upgraded slightly to resist corrosion and impact perhaps, but the increased durability shouldn’t have affected its ability to penetrate armor. That left the ammunition, so I wasn’t all that surprised when I ejected the magazine and saw the sharply pointed red tips of 9mm armor piercing high explosive rounds loaded into the clip. I should have checked the type of ammo they’d given me in retrospect, but I supposed that late was better than never. I’d have to be careful what I shot at, the rounds were liable to penetrate multiple targets and would rip flesh and bone to pieces.

 

The man had a rifle of unknown make on his back but was otherwise unarmed, why he had approached me without even drawing it I had no idea but I supposed that would be best for me. I didn’t see any sorts of communications devices on him but I had to assume that the target now knew of my presence; I would have to proceed with greater caution from here on out. There was no indication of where I should go, but if the lobby of floor 34 where I had entered the building was any indication to the size of this artificial jungle there wouldn’t be all that much ground for me to cover.

 

I forged forwards into the jungle, sticking warily to the shadows as I pushed through the thick foliage; just who had funded this damn project that had suspended an entire thicket of jungle in the sky like this? Just what kind of freak was the target? She had looked normal enough in the mission brief, but thinking back to it now, had she looked strange or unstable?

 

A nudge at the back of my mind reminded me that I wasn’t supposed to speculate about targets; training said you were never supposed to think about what you were doing, you just followed orders and referred back to the things you’d learned in the past. Concentrate on the acquisition of the target, search and destroy; analyze, optimize, and terminate. These were the mantras of the operative, mantras that I had followed my entire life. But this time, I wondered what I was doing here; why had these people had to die here? What was so important about this target, who was undoubtedly brilliant judging by this jungle around me, marked for death? What crimes had this woman committed, what had she done to be consigned to such a fate?

 

The questions popped unbidden into my mind, refusing to allow themselves to be cleared away; I found unable to decide what to do. My orders were clear, and even in the midst of this foreign looking jungle my task remained unchanged so I really had no reason to be hesitating, but I just couldn’t focus on what I had to do, it was as though some small part of me didn’t want to follow through with the task assigned to me anymore. The feeling ate away at me even as I pushed on ahead, my body automatically going through the stealthy motions of a predator on the prowl even as my mind wandered elsewhere and it was only when my brain suddenly registered the image of pouring rain streaming past a massive panel of windows which looked on to the outside of the building. Fire and smoke still wafted up from the surrounding buildings in spite of the ceaseless rain and finally I could view the full extent of the carnage my fellow operatives had inflicted upon the surroundings to get me here. The surrounding buildings had been completely destroyed leaving empty holes in the ground where massive skyscrapers had once stood, isolating this one ravaged building in the middle of a ring of destruction.

 

With the jungle inside this building everywhere around me the look of the city around me seemed alien and out of place, but this time I knew it was not the city, but this building that was the outlier. The sight brought me back to my senses; I still had yet to find the target. I had reached the other side of the building without seeing anyone, unsurprising given the lay of the land, but that just meant that my hunt still was not over. I took another glance outside to reaffirm that I was still where I was supposed to be and that was when she spoke.

 

“Still the same as always Xavier, always staring out into the rain.” The voice was familiar, and unsettling; it was a voice that I shouldn’t be hearing, the voice of someone who couldn’t be speaking.

 

The voice of someone I had once known.

 

I started to turn.

---

 

I strangled them with my own bare hands, I watched the life bleed out of them and fade from their eyes Tel.

 

I see. Was that how the file had specified it Summers?

 

I killed them, I killed them Tel, don’t you get it?!

 

We kill people every day as a matter of course; I see no reason why this would have been any different.

 

They did a real number on you, you know that? They fucked you up real good, whatever the hell they did to you. You don’t even remember who you are anymore.

I don’t know what you’re talking about Summers. You’re really going to have to explain this to me if you want me to follow.

 

You won’t follow shit! The Xavier I knew once died eight years ago.

 

Eight years ago? We met just last month Summers, what are you going on about.

 

...Get out.

 

Sorry?

 

GET OUT!

---

5: Memories and Summers

I felt something cold press up against the base of my neck and I froze, not daring to move. I knew the feel of a gun; it was as familiar to me as the sensation of falling, of water running down skin, or the breath of someone on the back of your neck. There was a moment of pause as the wielder of the weapon waited; by now I had already determined that the source of the voice was too far away to be the one holding the gun to my neck.

 

“Take his weapon.” I almost gasped at the voice, almost. I felt hands reach roughly for my weapon, prying it from my reluctant fingers; I resisted briefly, then relented and allowed them to take the gun.

 

“You may release him.” Hands did a quick once over of my body making sure that I was completely unarmed before roughly shoving me away. The quick click of hammers being pulled down told me that I was still one wrong move away from being killed at any moment. The blurs were faint but I could still identify them; there were perhaps three or four people standing in a rough arc around me but my main focus of attention was the woman in plain grey-white armor...and the body at her feet.

 

A quick inspection of the plain hair and unassuming cloths told me that the person on the ground was my target; the pool of blood beneath her, the twin blossoms of blood soaking through her cloths around her chest region and the odd angle of her neck told me that she was very, very much dead. Catching sight of my gaze the Traitor Queen gave me a look of mild amusement, mixed with...something else.

 

“You needn’t worry about your assignment; I’ve seen to it that she’s been dispatched as you were ordered to.” She looked the same as ever, even though her pale armor was a stark contrast to the ever present black of Ops 9, her straight, black hair which fell to just above her shoulders, keen amber coloured eyes, and sharp narrow face. And the scar which marked her betrayal, the jagged line which ran in a diagonal slash from the center right of her left eyebrow all the way down to the middle of her cheek.

 

“Why are you here?” I asked flatly, in truth still in shock at her sudden reappearance. She had been dead, I was certain of it, I’d...

 

“Is that any way to greet your partner after not seeing her for three and a half years? You’re a cold hearted man Xavier.” She laughed, but the sound was hollow and dead sounding. Dead, like she should have been.

 

I didn’t quite know what to say to this woman that should have been dead, this woman who I had killed...personally, this woman who I shot three times in the head before putting another half dozen high explosive rounds through her heart.

 

“Is that really you Summers?” I asked at last.

 

“Summers? Really, after all this time you still have to call me Summers. We spend an entire childhood together with you following me around, going ‘Gillian’ this, ‘Gillian’ that but we get snapped up into Ops 9 and instantly all you call me is Summers?” She sighed with mild exasperation, sounding tired. “You’re still the same Xavier, still the same person you were three years ago when I left you.”

 

“I shot you.” I said matter-of-factly, “I shot you nine times. You were dead, I made sure of it.”

 

“Yes you did, it hurt like a bitch I, but I didn’t die. For us operatives, death is more easily faked than claimed, Ops 9 doesn’t let us die until it wants us to die, you know that just as well as I do. You were duped, I drugged myself in a manner which allowed me to emulate death without actually experiencing it, and your bullets were halted in a non-fatal position in my chest tissue, deep enough to evade brief inspection but without sufficient depth to inflict fatal injury.” She was unbearably casual about it, practically rubbing it into my face. I wanted to hit her, but I knew better than to try anything stupid like that. I was angry now, but not insane.

 

“Who was she, that woman; you must know, yes?” the questions sprung back into my head and this time I relented, suppressing my training for the time being.

 

She laughed again, a harsh brittle sound, “Xavier, Xavier...surely you must recognize the face of your own mother?”

 

I said nothing, unsure of whether or not this was some sort of elaborate trick. My mother? She...I hadn’t really thought about my mother in...forever really, in fact I don’t think that I’d seen her since I became a part of Ops 9. When had that happened anyways; it seemed as though I’d been working the job since forever, my life before that seemed to have disappeared, faded beyond recall.

 

She gave me a sad, pitying look. “You don’t remember, do you; you don’t remember anything. They took away your childhood, they took away your future, and then they took away your family until in the end, all that was left was an empty shell of something that was once a man. Even now Xavier, you don’t remember anything,” she looked genuinely sad for a moment as she made her last comment, “you don’t remember me.”

 

“I remember that you betrayed us; you disappeared in the middle of an Op and left five other operatives to die in the field. You went to HQ and went on a rampage killing and maiming a dozen senior officers, destroyed two entire floors of the building, wiped clean hundreds of critical files and then I shot you and killed you before pushing your body out of the shattered window of the 67th floor, watching your body fall all the way down until you were a mere smear on the ground.” I hissed, spitting the words out at her. Not only was she seemingly back from the dead, she was also insane from the looks of it.

 

She ignored me, going on with her babble, “I tried so hard to save you, you know that? I tried to get you to remember who you were, to get you to see what you were doing but they killed you Xavier; at some point between induction and the beginning or training they killed the Xavier Tel that I knew and some other stranger replaced him. That stranger never knew Gillian Summers, he didn’t remember our childhood together in the city streets, nor did he recall the long nights of exploring, the education of technology and science, or the plans of a future he made for himself.” She shook her head, “Nothing I said got through to you, it was as though you weren’t capable of understanding the concepts I presented you with anymore. They erased your humanity, but still I tried to bring you back because...” she stopped.

 

“Save me? It was more like I spent the entire time trying to protect you; the things you were saying, the actions you preached? They would have gotten us both killed, so many times I lied to cover your ass and still you would never ever shut up about your freedom, about your philosophies. And in the end you betrayed me anyways, you left us, running away to fulfill your own ridiculous dreams. I don’t know what sort of delusions you have but you’re nothing but a traitor Summers.”

 

She seemed visibly hurt by what I’d said, as though she really believed in the nonsense she was saying. “I go to all this work tracking you down, getting your mother to show herself to act as bait, risking everything by coming out of the dark to try and save you this one last time and this is how you reward me? I’m a fool for coming back and doing this, you really are beyond saving. You don’t remember a thing, and you never will.”

 

“Is that all traitor, or do you have more nonsense to say.”

 

She looked sad, “Goodbye, Xavier.”

 

I heard the roar of gunshots rip through the air around me.

---

 

You know we don’t have any family left right?

 

That’s ok, we don’t need our families to do our jobs, we can work perfectly fine without them.

 

Xavier, we killed them on our first Op, you remember that right? The first time they sent us out into the field we were sent in to kill our own families and erase any trace of our existence.

 

If that was the government’s wish, then I would have done it willingly a thousand times over.

 

Do you have any idea how fucked up what you just said is?!

 

Orders are orders Summers, you should know that by now.

 

Your...never mind, I guess things like that don’t concern you anymore then.

 

Sorry?

 

Never mind, it was nothing. If you’ll listen, let me tell you a secret.

 

What?

 

I love you.

---

6: What once was lost

I threw myself to the floor and lunged at the nearest blur tackling at what I assumed were the shooter’s feet. Bullets hissed through the air above my head as I lashed out at my invisible target; a rifle reappeared out of mid air as I knocked it from its owner’s hands and I reached out for it snatching it up and leveling it in the direction of the incoming fire before opening up with the assault weapon. Lead filled the air as I dropped a target, its decent marked by an arcing fountain of blood which splattered onto the vegetation below.

 

I felt something slam into me as the guard I had initially disarmed reengaged me, something cut across my cheek and I whipped the rifle around impacting something with a brutal bone jarring thud; a stream of bullets whistled past my ear and I felt something burn through the flesh of my shoulder. I ducked, rolling away before popping back up onto my knees firing off a burst in the direction opposite to which I had been facing before. I saw blood spurt through the air where my bullets had passed through even as I felt an armored first smash into the side of my head knocking me to the ground, something tore into my left leg and I screamed, rolling violently and shaking my assailant off.

 

I struggled to my feet, gasping at the pain, feeling something whistle through the air towards me; I lashed out with my arm blocking the strike and I saw my handgun suddenly tumble through the air.  I reached out for it, desperately grasping at it even as a round smashed it out of the air and shredded my hand; I fell, crashing to the ground once more. I saw shapes crush vegetation beneath them as they walked towards me as I lay there helplessly, feeling my lifeblood leak from my wounds; in spite of the stiflingly hot atmosphere I felt the world begin to grow cold. There were two gunshots and suddenly I saw the shapes crumple into the grass, blood quickly pooling beneath them to reveal the outlines of the still invisible soldiers. I looked up and there stood Summers, my smoking handgun in her hand.

 

“Why did you do that traitor? I thought you wanted me to die?” I coughed, struggling to roll myself over so I could face her properly.

 

“Because in the end, I can’t bring myself to abandon you, even when I know nothing I do will ever restore you to the person I once knew and loved.” She whispered into my ear as she bent down above me.

 

“Put a bullet through my brain and spare me your delusions you freak.” The words were feeble exiting my mouth, I was tired, oh so tired.

 

I felt the cold metal press up against the side of my temple and I closed my eyes; it wasn’t too bad a way to go, lying here in the middle of a jungle, a place that had vanished generations ago, out in the field. Sure beat dying in the gutters of the streets, or as an old cripple gasping for air in a hospital bed. And then as quickly as the sensation had come, it was gone, the gun lifted away. I felt a pair of hands burrow beneath me before they lifted me up into the air; the sensation was mind numbingly familiar, and though consciously I felt the urge to somehow roll away I lacked the strength to do so. It was strangely comforting, and I let myself go limp; concerned looking amber eyes peered downwards at me, containing a look which I hadn’t seen for...had I ever seen it? I couldn’t recall a time if ever that I had, and yet it still felt familiar.

 

There was a slight hint of a smile on the traitor’s face; I was too tired to try and wipe it off with a comment, and somehow, it felt...right anyways. She carried me to the window and shifted so that I could get a good look at what was going on outside; dozens of Combat Thopters were circling the building and I could see the general infantry of the government’s enforcement legions pouring out over the streets like a swarm of ants. I could see that they were all converging on this building even with my failing eyesight and for a moment I considered saying something, but in the end I stayed silent.

 

“They’re here for you, and for me of course. By now they’ll have realized that something’s gone wrong and they’re not about to let go of their most valuable asset so easily. They forced us into working for them ever so casually but now they put such great effort into holding on to you. It’s a pity I couldn’t match them in my attempts to save you in return. I doubt my men will be able to hold them off for long; I really shouldn’t have come back here.“ She gave me a wry smile, “But I guess I just couldn’t help but want to see you one last time.”

 

Her eyes were brimming with tears and I couldn’t help but want to comfort her, traitor or not; but I realized that there was nothing I could do for her. Her crazy ideas were hers alone, I didn’t share her thoughts or feelings; like the girl operative I could only look on as she suffered, seeing it but sharing in none of it. These feelings were confusing, they shouldn’t actually exist; what was going on here?

 

“I don’t know what you’re going on about, but you can put me down now and run, I’m not strong enough to stop you at this point.” I whispered up to her, trying to get away from her; just her mere presence was muddling my mind.

 

“It was nice to be able to see you again, just this one last time. Even if you don’t remember who I am.” She whispered back down to me as she bent over and set me down by the windows. I heard a slight rustle as she shifted in position, armor plates rubbing against each other and then a loud crack and the shattering of glass as she fired a round through the window, showering me in glass shards. The wind howled through the hole sucking the warmth out of the surroundings and pelting me with droplets of rain. She stepped forwards and allowed the gun to fall beside me, staring out into the yawning gap before her.

 

“The exit is the other way.” I said flatly.

 

“I know Xavier, I know.” She murmured without turning.

 

She stepped forwards into the abyss.

---

 

~We were on the rooftop of the eighty four story building, hiding out during our meal break of our school which was now a good thirty six floors below us. It was raining of course, but we didn’t mind; we’d spent half our lives soaked by the rain anyways. We talked about many things there, musing about our other friends, our lives, the politics of the world about us, our futures. It was a safe haven from the disapproving glares of our instructors and the unsympathetic views of our peers, who thought of us as a pair of non-conformist rebels.~

 

Why are we here Xavier?

 

Here? What do you mean by that Gillian?

 

What I mean to say is why do we exist here? What is our purpose in life? We live, and die, learn, and love, and feel, but for what? What has anyone in this city ever accomplished that has meant anything?

 

We can’t expect to have a reason for living Gillian, we’re born into this world without a say in the matter; it’s up to us to find a purpose for ourselves.

 

~She was standing on the edge of the roof now, pacing up and down the foot wide rim beyond which was an 840 meter drop to the ground. She always did that when she couldn’t make up her mind about something, a dangerous, but to her necessary habit.~

 

But don’t you find life so pointless then? Why make all the effort to stay alive if there’s nothing you want to do with your life?

 

Don’t have anything in mind for what you want to do in the future? I don’t believe that Gillian, your grades are excellent after all, there must be something that you like doing.

 

~She snorted, letting out a brief peel of laughter before sitting down on the ledge, dangling her legs over the abyss.~

 

I hate it, I hate all of it; nothing in this world makes sense to me, this city and society disgust me to the core.

 

Gillian, come on; at the very least you have friends and family, you appreciate those things, don’t you?

 

~I moved up beside her, not sitting on the ledge but making sure I was within arm’s reach. Sometimes Gillian got like this but after a bit of talking through it I would manage to get her through it, bring her back here to the other side.~

 

I don’t matter Xavier, I don’t mean anything; if I disappeared all of you would just keep on going with your lives. Nobody would care.

 

I would care Gillian, you know that right?

 

Would you? If I disappeared right no-

 

~A thunderous explosion somewhere beneath us shook the building throwing me forwards, I dangled over the edge but it was Gillian who was tossed over into the empty space. I lunged forwards reaching for her snagging her wrist with my right hand, even as my other hand struggled to keep our combined momentum from pulling us both over.~

 

I got you Gillian, just hold on.

 

~She looked down below, then back up at me, perhaps seeing the strain on my face, my struggle to keep us both there suspended in mid air.~

 

I think you should let go Xavier.

 

What the hell are you saying?! Come on, take my hand, reach!

Let go Xavier, or I’m going to pull us both over.

 

I don’t care! I will never let go of you, not even if we both get pulled over that edge Gillian. I’ll always be here for you, even if you don’t believe it.

 

~An anguished look crossed her face, and she fidgeted for what seemed an eternity to me before she finally grasped my wrist in return, shifting her momentum so that she could reach over with her other free arm to grab hold of me. I gritted my teeth and pulled with as much strength as I could muster, ignoring the driving rain which tried to pry her fingers from mine and the screams from whatever accident had happened below us. I focused on those amber eyes of hers, letting myself sink into them as I worked slowly until I had her up and onto the ledge at which point I let myself collapse to the floor. She scrambled to my side, anxiously inspecting my form as though to check me over.~

 

Are you ok Xavier?

 

Of course I’m fine you imbecile, but don’t you ever put me through that again!

 

I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

 

And don’t ever tell me to let go of you like that. Wherever you are, and whatever the problem may be, I will always stand by your side to help you.

 

Always?

 

Always Gillian, always.

---

7: Dawn, at last

“Gillian!” I lunged forwards in spite of my leg. I scrabbled over the glass and threw myself at her, snaking my hand around her ankle at the last second as she began to fall. Her weight dragged me over and she would have taken me with her, were it not for the reinforced bar of steel which ran along the bottom edge of the windows which held me in place. A spike of pain shot through me as the impact with the metal brought me to an abrupt stop.

 

I felt each of the glass shards stabbing into me, each and every shard of shattered bone in my leg, the bullet which had dug its way into my shoulder, and above all the burn of lactic acid in my arm as every tendon in my arm focused on keeping my hand clamped around Gillian’s ankle.

 

“Let go of me Xavier.” The voice drifted up to me, faint over the howl outside. Something kicked at my hand trying to get me to release my hold; at this point the pain was negligible to what I was experiencing elsewhere in my body so I ignored it and merely resolved to hold on even tighter.

 

“I refuse.” I remembered now, I remembered my promise to her and I would never, ever let go of her. “I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.” The kicking suddenly ceased, and there was a pause as she digested my words.

 

“Xavier?” it sounded like a whisper, though she must have been shouting to be heard over the howling wind outside.

 

“You heard me Gillian. Now help me help you up, reach for my hand. I’m afraid I’m too injured at this moment to do anything beyond anchoring you in place so this time you’ll have to pull yourself back up on your own.”

 

I felt a strain on my arm as she tried to pull herself upwards, and I tried my best to keep a firm grip on her ankle but I could feel my muscles tiring, my grip loosening. The knowledge of that filled me with dread and I tried to position myself further away from the window to help her gain a little altitude but it was useless; I didn’t have the strength left to do so. I felt something brush my hand briefly and for a moment I thought she might make it, but the contact disappeared immediately after. My tenuous grip continued to loosen all the while.

 

“I can’t do this Xavier, I’m just going to end up pulling both of us over. Let go of me.”

 

“You have to...find...your own purpose...in this life Gillian.” It was a struggle to get the words out; I felt a constant stabbing pain in my chest with each word. I clenched my fist as tightly as I could and I heaved with a snarl and a shout pulling upwards with all my strength. “Reach!”

 

“Pulling...that line...again Xavier...” She too was struggling, though for her it was not because of blood loss but merely because of her exertions, I heard some sort of strangled snarl and then felt something clamp onto my hand. Her fingers clumsily closed over my wrist and after another few seconds I felt the other hand follow. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that, remembering only now you son of a bitch. Hah.” She panted, clinging awkwardly onto my arm even as I still held onto her ankle.

 

“You’re one to talk...that wasn’t my mother you liar. I’m going to let go of your ankle, don’t slip.” I released my hold on her ankle and felt a slight tug as her weight shifted downwards which pulled me back to the very edge of the shattered window until I was looking Gillian straight in the eye, her face mere inches from mine as she reached a hand up to take hold of the steel bar.

 

“That was a necessary lie, to determine whether or not you remembered anything at all about your past. Your lack of a reaction to that lie told me that you were still lost, but now...you remember.” Her other hand reached the ledge and she pulled herself halfway up collapsing onto the floor in exhaustion, sides heaving.  I reached over and grabbed her wrist, helping to pull her all the way inside and that was when I heard it, the faint thrumming of the combat Thopter.

 

She must have heard it too because she looked over towards me and flashed me a sad smile, “I guess that’s it for me then; well at least I die with the knowledge that I got you back in the end.” Behind her, the Combat Thopter materialized in mid air, the barrels of its quad auto cannons sliding smoothly into place.

 

“Wait, if I could just explain-“ A wash of cold blue light lit us both up as the Thopter lined us up in its sights, hovering above us like a merciless spectre of death.

 

“You and I both know that that won’t solve anything.”

 

She was ignoring the targeting sensors which were now being painted onto her back, and to her credit she didn’t flinch when the cannons opened up with a thundering roar.

 

“This is the end Xavier, goodbye.” She leaned in close, pressing her lips to my forehead.”I love you.”

 

I stared back into her amber eyes, shining in the backdrop of the blue light with a yellow fire that refused to die; the world seemed to fall away and for a brief instant I felt as though I were floating.

 

“I –“

 

The 25mm rounds shredded the glass walls and tore through the concrete and steel like paper, leaving nothing behind of the two operatives but dust and shadows.

---

 

Julian Fenister watched impassively from the cockpit view screen as the 25 mm rounds ripped through the building destroying everything in their path, not caring what happened at this point really. After all, this was the kind of world he had been living in for some fifty four years now.

 

<Target terminated. Maintaining combat readiness Commander.> The Thopter’s voice was cold and uncaring, matching Fenister’s feelings on the situation.

 

“Status on Captain Tel?”

 

<Bio readings indicate no life forms remaining. The Captain is likely KIA, cause of death listed as disintegration via friendly fire from support fire of a local aerial unit.> The way the machine said it, it was as though the Thopter was completely ignoring its own role in the Captain’s death.

 

“Noted. And the mission’s objectives?”

 

<Completed Commander.>

 

“Alright then, return to base.”

 

<Acknowledged, departure will begin immediately.> Fenister felt the Thopter shift and pull away beneath him as it rose up through the rain into the pitch black sky.

 

As the vehicle peeled away he stared back down at the building where the two operatives had been, opening a file on the computer tablet he held in his hand. He tapped a couple of buttons causing a list to appear, then went and crossed out two names on the list.

 

“Congratulations on retiring from Ops 9 you two.”

---

 

 

~Fin