I am an impulsive dumbass.
I knew that already of course, but I think I just solidified that to myself.
Two weeks had passed since the pivotal moment I had stupidly decided to kiss Doctor Jacqueline Deveraux. There was a part of me that wondered what the hell had gotten into my head, and the other part completely understood where my head was at.
Going down that first level into Colony Negative, I knew exactly my opinion of Doctor Deveraux: snarky, judgmental, heavily opinionated, and overall just the most emotionally unattractive woman I had ever met. How wrong I was. She was calculated, cunning, determined, and strong in a way I had never perceived before. Most of all, she did care. I knew I accused her of such, but only because her level of caring was something I had never witnessed before.
She saw things, and people objectively, something that originally turned me away. Yet, in doing so, she was able to view me as useful. She could view me as a human with thoughts and feelings, with actions and consequences, and not just a weapon of war for someone to use. Jacqueline was not quick to grow fond of people and I could see why. Few had earned her trust, and an even smaller amount had earned her love.
There was a different kind of beauty to her when she didn’t wear the mask. Okay, it wasn’t different. It was an enhancement to the already mystifying enigma that she was. Scars told stories. I didn’t need to know the depths of her story to know that she was probably the most formidable person I’ve ever come to know. And being faced with someone stronger than me was enough to make me weak.
It was not the kind of weakness that could make men bow before tyrants, surrender despite all odds, or give up at the slightest sign of defeat. This was a weakness that did bend the knees, warm the heart, and want me more than anything to kiss every inch of her scars with the hopes it would heal them.
Of course, her reaction was something I should have expected.
She had immediately pushed me away with a surprised look in her eyes before questioning: What the fuck are you doing?
Neither of us had time to answer as our duties called us elsewhere. The sudden opening of the Sioc doors had her putting that mask on, and me doing my best just to step in front to shield any wandering eyes. If anything, the staff viewed us as if we had been ghosts. Apparently most of the crew had been making bets if we were even still alive.
I liked beating those odds.
It was not like me to kiss a woman without consent, or at least obtain an invitation in her eyes. She had provided me neither, and I had invaded every sense of privacy. There was a worry that the action alone would get reported, as it should when any man harasses a woman like such. I was going to own up to my actions.
Yet, it was radio silence on her end.
What was not on the radio silence I wish it was, were all the rumors and speculations lingering around the main base. I was grateful despite my distraction of Jack’s wonderful face that I had obtained a temporary mask for her. Practically every morning since then, I was hounded by individuals, mostly Milithreat agents and personnel, asking what she looked like. My heart ached for her; it angered for her. Nobody had the right to know, and somehow I felt absolutely, wholeheartedly privileged to behold such allure.
I kept to the same story, the same lie: I did not see it. I gave her the privacy when her mask became obsolete and found an alternative that kept her comfortable despite our circumstances. I did not gloat about saving her life, nor her saving mine. The only time that had been mentioned was during the debrief with Ruenova. The only thing I had withheld from her was pushing the button that had doomed a lot of District Three scientists.
My morning today was already flustered with dreams of Jack, and now the news I had gotten from Milithreat personnel. I had demanded Owen be dismissed due to his actions of retreating. Not only that, but Ruenova showed me his videolog clearly showing him manipulating the panel to get that door to shut, trapping Jack and myself. Despite all that evidence, Milithreat deemed he was too good of an agent to just dispose of. Instead, he’d be sent to another squad.
The official squad report was sent this morning, so I knew by the afternoon a lot of consequences would appear on my desk.
The first one, had just arrived at the weekly briefing. We did our best to gather in meetings to discuss objectives and new experiments working on all fields: intelligence, security, engineering, and any scientific explorations to be found. Not everyone had to attend, mostly just supervisors and the like. Jacqueline had not been at the last one, mostly due to illness.
Rumor has it that she had not been her best a week upon returning from our mission from hell. I didn’t blame her. Perhaps she was too quick to rush back into her work. I would have reached out, but I had a feeling I was at the bottom of her list.
Yet, she walked in this morning, two cups of coffee in her hands. David followed close behind her, holding most of the folders upon folders of notes. I swallowed harshly at her presence, seeing her gait just as confident and commanding as always. I almost averted my eyes but thought that to be ridiculous. I shouldn’t be afraid of anyone, let alone a petite woman who’s eyebrows were more sharp than her nails, or tongue.
“Damien,” she greeted, her soft voice breaking through the mask, handing me that spare coffee in her hand.
“Jack,” I couldn’t help but let a surprised smile fall upon my lips, not seeing an ounce of hatred in those emerald eyes, “What’s this for?”
“You look like you could use it,” she hummed.
“Ouch,” I chuckled softly, taking the warm coffee from her and grasping it in my palm.
I wanted so badly to apologize, to excuse my actions with some lame justification that maybe she’d believe. Yet, David lingered too close and there were plenty of eyes in here that loved to spread rumors. My apology would have to wait until later, if she even wanted to hear it. Knowing the bits of her she’d shown, she probably wouldn’t want to discuss it ever again and deny my actions ever occurring.
Looking at her more closely, she looked tired too. There was an exhaustion upon her face that wasn’t just a lack of sleep. There was an emotional turmoil that perhaps she didn’t know how to let go. Given what she had revealed to me, it could have been a numerous amount of things: her mother, killing Wueh, getting bit. What she went through was more than enough reason for her to leave Colony Negative and let someone else take the lead.
Yet, she remained and showed no indication of going anywhere.
“Good morning,” Ruenova greeted, “who wants to start with updates on our progress?”
“I don’t mind,” Jack answered beside me, eagerness in her voice. Eagerness to probably just get it over with. As she moved to the center area, both David and myself reached forward if she wished to bestow her coffee momentarily as she debriefed.
I now grasped two cups to warm my already sweaty palms.
“To update on last week’s session that I missed, it’s been proven by situation and not science that more than a mere bite is needed for these anathemas to make us turn. With that knowledge, it is recommended for anyone that is deploying to the field to wear as much armor as possible. I know scientists and engineers aren’t accustomed to such, but even a good enough layer might prevent a bite from turning catastrophic. Most importantly is to cover the weak spots these anathemas aim for: the arms, legs, and the neck,” she briefed.
Fuck, it was so nice to hear her talk again.
“Secondly, I’ve been working with the engineers on updating our flashlight capabilities. They’ve designed a strobe-like, rapid light that, hopefully, will paralyze the anathemas. They are not fond of a light that can confuse them, let alone blind them. This is all experimentation, though. Do not expect this new flashlight to save you, it is merely a tool in hopes to incapacitate these fast creatures long enough for someone to end them permanently.”
She pulled up on the projector an image of the typical human DNA structure. “For anyone not familiar with this, this is what our DNA looks like: a double helix with two complementary strands with bonds in between. And this…is what it seems like anathema DNA looks like.”
She referred to the next model, a near perfect replica. Yet in between the spiral was a thin, extra structure that seemed to break the strand of hydrogen bonds between the bases.
“That is what this anathema enzyme does. It does not alter our DNA. per say, but rather breaks it, dominates it. It takes what is already there and wants to enhance it. Think of it as some mRNA mutation on a whole different level. If our bodies were code, a normal mutation may change at most a line or two. This wants to change whole sequences and blocks of code and it succeeds every time,” she explained, “with more data and samples to work with, we can begin to understand how this forms, works, and overall consumes us. Any questions?”
“Any progress on what was found in that data that the mysterious room provided? All those symbols being projected?” Ruenova asked.
“No,” David interrupted and I could see Jack tense slightly at that, “we’ve thrown it into different programs that might recognize its significance but have fallen short on any positive results.”
“I believe it’s instruction on their language,” Jack muttered, “akin to our early preschool days of learning the alphabet.”
“Interesting,” I spoke, showing enthusiasm which made Jack side-eye me, wondering if a joke was coming, “How do we translate an alphabet that’s never been translated before?”
“By finding any and all resources, books, art, panels with voice prompts as possible. But it’s not just that. Linguistics needs to know the cultural nuances that I am able to provide for them. Not that of the anathemas, but what came before them, or what they once were. So far, we’ve found little,” she admitted, “Pattern matching software will help…but only if we have enough data to establish one.”
Everyone in the room seemed satisfied with that answer. Jack didn’t see any other questions and immediately back-tracked to me, taking that coffee away from my hands. I took a large sip of my own before stepping forward, enjoying the nice hint of vanilla and spice that seemed to be her favorite drink. I’d have to ask the cafe baristas what her favorite was and make sure they always had a wealthy supply of it. I never thought I’d like a bit of cayenne pepper in my morning coffee, but I seemed to be growing into a lot of things I thought I once hated.
“This is an updated map on the recent territory movement that we’ve been seeing,” I pulled up our mapped out region of Colony Negative, “despite the unfortunate circumstance of being held ransom by District Three, they provided us with an approximate geographic location to what was their forward operating base somewhere here near this mountain range. Given the distance to that, we can assume their main base, if still intact, would only be behind that mountain range. Geospatial information determined this little valley here the only way to pass through the range, which means their base is most likely set up through that narrow avenue. It makes it highly improbable to sneak up on them.
“However, given the most recent events, there has been a lot of silence on their end in terms of movement, territory, or intelligence products they are producing. Our biggest threat at the moment is District Seven situated here,” I pointed at the map, “They’ve already begun droning our areas and even went as far as purposefully disarming our perimeter mines. And by disarming, I mean by causing them to blow up. However, it is just mind games at the moment. My team has found a vulnerability in their cyber connections we might be able to exploit. It won’t harm anyone, but it will certainly be a great distraction and show just what we are capable of.”
“How big of a threat is District Seven?” Ruenova asked.
“Their numbers are much smaller than our own. Colonization had ruined a lot of their population as many refugees fled to other Districts for protection. Their technology is a bit outdated. But, in terms of fighting, they are one of the most disciplined fighters in this galaxy,” I answered, “They are also considered a matriarchal society, meaning most women are in positions of power, leadership, and military roles.”
A few snickers were heard from the men around, as if that was another reason to think District Seven as archaic and obsolete. District Seven became that way because most of their well-bodied men had been slaughtered, by Sabbath specifically.
“They are not to be trifled with. Man or woman, they are one of the best physical fighters in this Galactic Federation. If combat is needed, it is better suited at long range. Close range, they are very deadly,” I spoke from experience, soon looking at Jack, “Doctor Deveraux, do you know much of their scientific endeavors?”
She shook her head, “They are secretive, unwilling to share. And for good reason. A lot of their journals, data, and studies had been stolen and plagiarized over the last thousand years. Most matriarchal societies I’ve come to study, most all extinct, share a mutual influence on their opposite gender counterparts. They have mutual respect for each other and believe in complimenting each other, which should be given in any society. However, District Seven, depending on what Magistrate is in power, can sometimes view men as…subhuman.”
I didn’t get a hint of that in any of my intelligence, but knowing that bias now, it wouldn’t hurt to look at that further. Jack’s understanding was far different from my own. Military and societal studies didn’t seem to get along. Yet, with what Jack stated just earlier, maybe we could find a way to complement each other.
The doors opened behind the small group, and in came a smug, towering Agent Owen who certainly walked in with a purpose.
“Agent Owen, do you mind not distracting the meeting?” Ruenova asked with a sigh. She had made it abundantly clear: if you were going to be late to the meeting, don’t bother to show. The entire meeting was recorded anyways if he was so interested in learning what we had to say.
I knew right away that he didn’t care about this meeting at all.
“You dare send me to Excise Squad? Really?! Recon work? You know I’m much more capable than that, Rok!” Owen scowled, clearly angry and frustrated by the news that had fallen into his lap this morning.
“Yet you’ve failed to show me what you’re capable of,” I retorted, “Owen, wait outside until this meeting is concluded.”
“No. I’m not waiting. You can’t boss me around, Rok. I’ll have you know that my uncle is a top Administrative General for Milithreat and he’s going to have you removed the second I report your misconduct,” he pointed an accusatory finger at me.
Well, that explains how he wasn’t removed entirely from this operation. He had friends in high places. Although I felt maybe his uncle must have not liked him that much if he was sent to a place like this.
“Owen, please-” Jack tried to politely dismiss him as well, which he didn’t like.
“Shut up, bitch!” The words were enough to make me tense, approaching him with authority and frustration.
“Out, Owen. Before security comes here and forces you,” I scowled, trying to not let my anger get the better of me.
“I think it’s time people knew the truth about you, Rok. I thought it best to keep this secret close to my chest, but you know what? Fuck it,” Owen immediately took over the projector, overtaking my presentation with a display of a medical report.
My medical report.
The one that immediately concluded coming from Sabbath. Of course Owen wouldn’t have been able to find my actual Sabbath records, as there was no way he’d find it. So he found the second best thing: Doctor Deveraux’s conclusion that I was of Sabbath origin given my genetic makeup.
“This man leading our entire military and intelligence operation here is a Sabbatical! Not only that, but a very prominent one that was very good at killing. A man who has killed hundreds if not thousands! How many in here had their lives ruined by Sabbath? How many have friends, family, or know someone affected by the rage and turmoil by these violent inquisitors? This man stands among you, barking orders and demands, demands he once commanded to kill us all - to colonize our own cities and districts!”
I knew exactly what he was doing. He had no other holding against me, no leverage that was based on merit. He was attacking me the best and most strategic way he could: tarnishing my character. And by the look of others in the room, various scientists, mechanics, even some of my own soldiers…there was distrust in their eyes. Owen had gotten the chaos he wished to create. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I couldn’t refute a medical report with Jack’s signature written all over it.
“Where did you get that?! You can’t just access and share private medical-” Jack was quick to defend me with a harsh tone, walking closer.
“Oh that’s rich coming from you, Doctor,” Owen interrupted, “For once, I thought you’d be on my side regarding this man’s past.”
“I’m on nobody’s side,” she retorted, yet the scowl in her voice proved otherwise.
“What are you going to do, Damien Rok? Hm? How are you going to punish me further? You can’t. So, I will happily go to Excise squad under someone else’s command. And from there, I will gain the hearts and minds of the other agents. I will turn every single agent against you, mutinize against you, until you are that dishonorably discharged deadbeat you wanted me to be. Nobody wants you here.”
I immediately shoved him, just enough to gain some space between us. If I had to feel his hot, betraying breath against my face much more, I knew I’d be the first to strike. To him, he took that as the beginnings of a potential scrap. I could see the smirk on his lips, the fists of his curling. He was going to blow if I gave him the best opportunity.
Yet a light hand on my chest stepped between us, Jack doing her best to step in and prevent this whole situation from blowing up. The sensation of her nails digging gently into my pec was enough to make me lightheaded, almost overcoming my furious adrenaline.
“Boys, that’s enough. Don’t you see this is what the other Districts want? They want to separate us from the inside, turn us against one another. That’s the best thing about District Five. It doesn’t matter what our past is, where we come from or our lineage. All they care about are smart, strong people willing to make their District a better place. It should be no different here,” Jack urged, determined to use logic to sway our minds.
Logic wasn’t really in Owen’s vocabulary, though.
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“Step aside, Doctor. Not everything is about you,” Owen warned, turning his attention towards her, “I should have pushed you down that hole when I got the chance. Or even better, pulled the trigger when I had my pistol on your stomach. All of this mess is your fault-”
“Owen!” Ruenova now was getting pissed, “Damien’s not the only one with the authority to dismiss you - permanently, from this place.”
Jack gently tried to push him back as he leaned against her, urging him to stop but that was a sign for him to then put his hands on her. He grabbed her wrist, twisting it. The second I heard that sharp sound of pain from that masked tone of hers, I knew I couldn’t stop myself.
All the rage, the anger, the depravity within my blood was just proving him right. My fists battered him, the weight of my torso on his crushed his more thin frame. Even despite his own hands blocking, it wasn’t enough. Fragments of my knuckles or even my elbows made contact with his skin. I watched as his skin turned more red than that pasty pale skin of his, covering it with blood.
“Damien, Damien stop!” the voices urged around me. It wasn’t until three security personnel wrapped their strong arms around my limbs they were able to pull me off.
I could see all the eyes around me, looking disgracefully at my work splayed on the floor. I could see the fear. While that one day would have brought me joy, a violent orgasm to my senses that only urged for more depravity…it wasn’t the same now. I only felt shame, guilt, and most of all disgust with myself. I had proven Owen right. Perhaps he knew I would have won any fight he had initiated. Only someone like me could turn an argument into a battlefield and that’s what he wanted to display.
I knew the situation I had now placed myself in, my past revealed to everyone in the room or watching from their desks. I had also proven to them what I danger I was, how thin my patience could be and most of all my lack of control. People would question my leadership. Fuck, even I questioned it as well. Had this just been a fight in the hallway, nobody would really care. It was just a supervisor having a spat with a subordinate.
But this? It was possibly grounds for dismissal. And dismissal to me felt like failure.
Ruenova had a begrudging look on her face, not exactly angry at me. But she was certainly pissed at all the paperwork this little situation was going to create. And the fact that Jacqueline had been right. This dissonance between us really was enough to make a dent in our progress. Progress we thought had been going well.
I didn’t know what Jacqueline’s reaction was. I didn’t possess the bravery to glance over my shoulder and get another shamed look from her eyes. I knew she hated the violence so quickly portrayed in front of her. No amount of excuses about protecting her or defending her honor would be enough. Because it wasn’t about that in her mind, it was about defending mine despite having very little honor to begin with.
Instead I did what was going to happen anyways and began to dismiss myself from the room. Whatever consequence that would catch up to me, I could not outrun. All I could do was finish my work as best as I could.
Yet upon moving, I felt a hand slip from my wrist, covered in Owen’s blood from his gushing nose.
“Damien,” Jack urged, almost as if wishing I’d stay. Maybe if I stayed, I could convince everything with words that Owen was wrong, that I had no ill intent here. Yet, no words could ever be greater than actions. Actions always spoke louder than syllables scrapped together in the form of lame excuses.
I merely brushed her hand away, walking out of the room to punish myself. And there was no greater punishment than being alone.
-
Death initiates a response in the mind akin to heartbreak. The anguish and emotional distress typically conveyed in heartbreak differ each time, and the feeling can rarely be imagined or remembered to its true strength. Death is the same way to the mind but unlike heartbreak shows indicated signs in society as irreversible. The only way to overcome that anguish is to be continually surrounded by death, which most humans are familiar with. Nobody can go a lifetime without death having its cold influence.
But what about killing? What is the difference between witnessing death and bestowing it?
Justification.
I put my tablet down to give me a peace of mind, rubbing my tired and sore forehead in response. Jacqueline’s work was extensive and relatively diverse given most scientists preferred specific research. I avoided all her papers on cranial development or what genetics and skeletons could tell of a tribe's happiness. I felt much more called to her research on killing, more specifically murder.
Yet, even the majority of the paragraphs were full of data and analysis even my intelligence-based mind couldn’t put together. I found myself reading her introduction, a few sentences in the middle, and mostly her conclusions to really get a baseline summary of her work.
This past week wasn’t as hellish as I first thought it would be after the revelation of my evil. I knew the truth could always be revealed eventually. It certainly impacted my relationships as most Milithreat agents and personnel were quiet in my presence instead of cracking jokes. The only one who didn’t seem to be swayed was Grimes, who still held an ounce of respect.
Yet, being Supervisory Agent here was only a minor responsibility in my main mission as the Saboteur. Even if this all went to shit, I knew deep down Milithreat wouldn’t want to remove me from my main purpose to destabilize other Districts here. However, without respect from the men and women around me, that side responsibility would prove to be much more difficult.
The noise outside my office went dead quiet, something unlike the military stations outside. There was always talking, or laughing, or even watching illegally recorded sporting events we really weren’t supposed to watch on company time. Never once had there been silence until now. But if anyone could silence a rowdy military crowd…
A brief knock echoed before the door opened, “It’s Deveraux. Is she allowed through?”
“Go ahead,” I sat up, wondering what the hell she’d be doing here, in my office of all sorts.
When she walked in and the door closed behind her, she looked a tad better than the last time I saw her. She wasn’t wearing a lab coat this afternoon, just her usual dark green turtleneck and black trousers. She looked well, or about as well as she could look.
“I didn’t know you even had an office,” she laughed softly. I could only just imagine the actual smile on her lips behind that mask.
“Please, sit,” I offered, seeing her shake her head.
“It’s alright, I don’t intend to be here for too long,” she politely declined.
“Is everything alright?” I questioned. I saw her hesitate, but not if she was afraid of telling me. In fact, she seemed here for something else entirely and not an emotional discussion. She didn’t want to discuss if everything was truly alright, clearly because it wasn’t.
Neither of us had really unpacked what had happened. I’m sure the unwanted kiss on top of that was another torment to her. Therapy didn’t seem an option for me as my mind was often scattered with half-truths, justifications to make myself feel better. I didn’t know what could help her feel better either.
“Yeah, I…” she paused, pulling a data shard out from her back pocket, “This is what Wueh gave me. I had my IT team run a few scans on it for any malware or virus that could infiltrate our system. They found nothing but, I don’t know. I have a hard time believing Wueh would give this so easily without a back-door way into our information as well. Just got a gut feeling there’s something malicious I can’t see.”
“Makes sense, especially since Wueh put a price on your ransom. Hard to believe you’re worth a million credits,” I laughed softly, before seeing the horror in her eyes.
Shit. She didn’t know.
“Sorry, I thought you knew,” I stood from my chair, seeing her shake her head, “I guess Wueh was able to send an encrypted electronic message to our public channels about having you in their custody. They wanted a million credits to ensure you’d be safely transferred back to our home base. SBH was more than willing to pay to have you return. Ruenova was skeptical that you were alive so of course made no attempts to think about collecting payment.”
“I…the entire thing was my fault wasn’t it? I think maybe I was too willing to go with them. I didn’t want anyone to die and…” she trailed off, visibly upset.
“No, Jack, don’t even think that way. Wueh was not the respected, moral scientist you might have thought. Of course they welcomed you because of what you had to offer. Just because you took that offer doesn’t mean what happened is on you,” I insisted gently, walking over to her, “Do you want my team to take a look at that?”
“If you don’t mind,” she answered, clearly not wanting to discuss further what we had done to District Three.
“Of course, come with me,” I let my hand gently rest on her elbow before brushing past her. She followed without complaint, down the long, now quiet hallways. All eyes were on us. Most people had to assume if Jack and I were ever in the same room together, two supervisors from two different walks of life, whatever we were dealing with must be important.
We reached the side of the office full of information not everyone had access to, badging in myself before inputting my identification number.
“Are you sure I’m allowed to be in here? I know I don’t have a clearance or-”
“It’s alright. You’re with me. A handsome escort is all you need,” I teased, holding the door open for her.
“And this was the most handsome escort at your disposal?” she retorted, her voice serious but even I could see the tease in her eyes.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” I winked, seeing her roll her eyes. But, the teasing had done its job in loosening her up a bit. Her walk wasn’t so skittish or anchored down by her emotional toil.
We approached the information technology area, finding only four men all staring at a projected football game. Nothing seemed to pull a man away from his work like sports could. Yet, all four immediately turned to me before standing at attention, shocked at my infiltration.
One was quick to turn the game off, as if worried I’d report such misuse.
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you get back to the game soon,” I stated, hoping my words would show I didn’t care. In fact, I had bet a thousand credits on the 501 Vipers to win the match. I had a lot more invested financially than these men did, at least with their emotional passion for the sport.
“This is Doctor Jacqueline Deveraux, as I assume you all know,” I introduced her, seeing all four perk up in her presence.
“Pleasure,” Jack replied, her voice monotone.
“I need you four to take a look at this. I need full scans and obvious scrubbing if any malware is detected. It’s District Three’s work, if that means anything to you,” I ordered, handing the shard over.
“Oh…so is this what happened with…you know?” one of the men asked, before shutting himself up. Clearly the details weren’t entirely shared with everyone. Almost everyone knew Jack had been held ransom, but they didn’t know the fact she kind of went willingly, Wueh wanted to throw me in an anathema death trap, and I pressed a button that resulted in absolute carnage.
No. They didn’t need to know those details.
Most men and women should know when working with classified information, a lot of it was on a need to know basis.
As they worked together, I glanced over at Jack, who stared at nothing but the ugly navy blue carpet. She looked dead inside. Usually she looked like she was always thinking deeply about something, making minor expressions to her own revelations or rolling her eyes at her conclusions. Now, it just looked like she didn’t think much of anything.
The subtle sound of her stomach growling also was noted.
“Hey, when’s the last time you ate something?” I asked quietly, seeing her break away from her hallucinations.
“I…uh, it’s been awhile,” she replied. A while? What the fuck did that mean? A few hours? A few meals? Surely not a few days. “I had some coffee earlier.”
“Coffee isn’t real food,” I crossed my arms, “Jack, you should-”
“We got something, sir,” a voice interrupted, breaking my attention. Jack and I both looked at the screen, seeing the initial scan. At first, nothing looked wrong. Data size seemed relatively normal given the amount of information stored, temperature seemed just about right when inserted, and even files showed no sign of any compromise.
“I’m not seeing a problem,” Jack observed, but it didn’t come off as questioning my men. She seemed rather intrigued we were seeing something she didn’t. Or rather, couldn’t.
“Look,” I pointed next to her, “See these two scans? My team always runs two, and that is because the greatest threat from any malware is invisible perfection. We can spot issues that aren’t subtle, so blatant that any system can catch it. Your IT didn’t catch it because they used such a system. But with two scans and human eyes, we’ve found the issue.”
“Doctor, Agent Rok is right. The two scans replicate each other perfectly, meaning it’s just copying information it's told to display, not actually interpreting it. Had this chip not been infected, the two scans would have been slightly different. Different temperature, maybe different processing data, or even size calculation itself,” one agent explained.
“Interesting,” she hummed, clearly intrigued and maybe even a bit impressed, “So, how do we remove it?”
“By making a copy of the copy, and then finding the specific file causing all this trouble. It can only be one file, which is the good news. However…” I trailed off, seeing her side-eye me.
“However?” she crossed her arms now.
“If we select the wrong file, the corrupted one will initiate a process to completely wipe the drive,” the IT agents shrugged, as if not realizing the implication.
I could see Jack swallow hard. Imagine all that hard work, the lying, the infiltration to gain Wueh’s trust. Hell, she lied to my face in the beginning about it all. Several District Three scientists were dead because of this, if not ‘alive’ as anathemas. All of that could be for nothing if a mistake was made and the drive was completely wiped.
And my team was sitting there laughing, passing along jokes to each other not really understanding the seriousness of this. Perhaps it was almost best they didn’t know. So, we stood there uncomfortably, side by side. Our elbows had briefly touched and I thought for a moment she’d do that jerk away like she always did, disgusted by my presence. But this time, she let it stay.
I couldn’t get that fucking kiss out of my head. I couldn’t get over the softness of her lips. I just wanted to plant my hands against those hips of hers, hold her against me, tower over her but never once abuse my strength.
I had killed and justified many times. To the point that I had believed it had damaged me beyond all repair. If I killed for her, with her as justification, I believed it could heal me.
“Looks like we found it,” they concluded, “you good to go with it, boss?”
“I trust you guys,” I replied, seeing a bit of respect in their eyes. Perhaps they were worried given everything about Sabbath, as dictatorial as they were, I’d want to call all the shots. But I trusted their expertise, training, and most of all their work ethic...despite walking in on a sports game.
And just like that, the data was unlocked. They perused files upon files of mapped out areas, scientific notes, medical files, and anathema studies…everything Jack could want.
“Well, Doctor, looks like this should be helpful,” one jeered.
“Indeed,” she exhaled her tension away, pausing for a moment, “why don’t you make a copy and share it with Intel here? I’m sure there’s useful information in there.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, finding that very generous of her.
“I’m sure having ‘two’ metaphorical eyes on this data will help. Two very different eyes at that,” she explained, looking up at me, “after all, we should be working together. Consider it a thank you.”
“A thank you for what?” one of the agents laughed, but got to his work in copying.
Jack and I both knew what the thanks were for. The copy was created, the now clean shard returned to Jacqueline. I had an itch to pull her aside, or even my office and begin my heartfelt apology. I knew I had to get it out sometime, afterall, it had been three weeks. Especially after giving us this data for free, with the only hard work that of our IT team. To them, though, this was a stroll on paved streets.
The agents turned their game back on, but one turned in his chair with an immature grin on his face.
“So…Doctor Deveraux, I heard you lost your virginity?” he teased.
I immediately tensed at that, glaring at him.
Fuck, we couldn’t go one day without stepping on each other’s toes. Even if it wasn’t me, these men theoretically represent me, same as I represent them. It was no wonder why she hated military men. I was beginning to hate such talk even without a woman around. It was so much worse when directed at one, such as herself.
“I beg your pardon?” she questioned, clearly pissed off.
“Oh, you know,” he still had that grin before letting his fingers mimic a gun, exhaling a whistle to a metaphorical shot.
I saw that look in her eyes, her initial anger morphing into anguish. The same anguish mentioned in her own papers: death. If anything, that joke might have been a bit more well received if it had been about anything else. Even if sexual in nature, it would have been easier for her to shrug off than what he just implied. But it was clear she couldn’t get this death out of her head.
How could she not? Clearly, she hadn’t found justification for it.
Jack immediately left the room, out the door I had let her in. I immediately clenched my fist, glaring at the agent.
“Nice going, jackass,” I scoffed.
“What? I was complimenting her. You know, it’s badass-”
“Just shut up,” I scowled, “you did your job well until you opened that mouth of yours. And turn that game off, you’ve all lost that privilege.”
Groans echoed from them as I left the room, following after her. Again, the rest of the offices remained silent as Jack had briskly walked past them, and without that handsome escort of hers. They probably assumed I had said something to piss her off, given how fast she was leaving this sector. They wouldn’t be wrong to assume that. Yet I caught up quickly with her in the hallway, a few paces behind.
“Jack!” I shouted after her, not seeing her stop.
“Jacqueline,” I repeated with her full name, seeing her stop at that.
When she turned, I could see a tear welling in her eyes, making my heart stop.
“I still see it when I close my eyes. I hope you know that. I can still feel the fucking trigger squeeze, feel the fucking recoil. Most of all I could feel the moment I took his life. Is that what you wanted? Does the thought of that bring you joy or laughter?” she spat slightly, disgust not in exactly me…but rather what I represented.
“Jack, of course not,” I moved close, letting my hands rest on her shoulders. I was honestly surprised she let me. “Have you talked with Doctor Carey? You know she’s a therapist, maybe she could help.”
“Damien, you know if I ever tell anyone what happened…” she trailed off for a moment, sniffling her pain away, “I’m a hypocrite. That’s all I am. How can I preach about peace, about people getting along through diplomatic measures, when I murdered a man?”
“Jacqueline, you didn’t murder him. You used self-defense. You killed him to save my life,” I justified it to her.
“Yet that button was pressed anyways. If my actions to stop him were as equal to the crime he’d commit, that’s not justifiable,” she shook her head, “I can’t sleep. I can’t even eat. Everything I eat just…I can’t even think right. My entire thesis is going to be questioned.”
“So let it be questioned, Jack. Question it yourself. Maybe you’re right, killing someone kills the soul, fragments it. But just because something is broken or shattered doesn’t mean it can’t be repaired. Just like a wound turns into a scab, the human body is capable of healing itself. The mind has such power too. What is anguish at death if not recognition for how powerful life is?”
Her eyes glanced up at me with surprise, “You’ve been reading my work?”
“I…only a little,” I admitted, “If it makes you feel better, I can barely understand it.”
She laughed softly at that, relaxing her shoulders I still held. But at that, I slowly let my hands move away, back to my side. My fingers curled gently against the fabric of my cargo pants, wishing it intertwined with her fingers instead of the rough cloth.
Such a romantic thought would’ve disgusted me a month ago when attached to her. Now, I didn’t know what I felt, but it wasn’t disgust.
“I’m sorry about the stunt Owen pulled,” she whispered, sympathy in her voice, “I know how…damaging that must have been to your character. I’ll have you know, a lot of my team weren’t happy with this revelation. But I made it adamant to them that you’re not that person anymore. The more they see us work together, the more people will know who you really are.”
“And who am I, really?” I asked curiously.
She took a long moment to think about it, “You are…whoever you want to be. That’s a choice you haven’t had before. You have it now, so try and make the most of it. You are also my semi-handsome escort when walking through classified sectors.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that, maybe even slightly blush, “Semi-handsome?”
“You won’t get a better compliment out of me, Agent Rok,” she teased. I was glad to see her mood had changed slightly. I knew it wasn’t permanent, merely a bandage on a wound bigger than a bullet-hole. But it was a start to the process of healing.
I swallowed hard, having to say what was on the tip of my tongue, “Jack, about that kiss-”
“How about we just pretend that didn’t happen?” She interrupted me, but remained polite. In all honesty, that was the best response she probably could give me. She could easily yell, shout, hit me, report me, all rational responses to my invasion of her lips. Yet, I think moving on might be the best step to make.
Crazy of her to think I could just pretend it never happened, but I would honor her wishes.
I nodded, seeing her content with that response.
“Well, why don’t you talk about this new, evolved thesis with someone who won’t think you’re a hypocrite? Let’s get something to eat,” I encouraged.
“Oh, the kitchen is closed,” she immediately tried to find an excuse.
“Nonsense, Wayne is open to his favorite patron at all hours of the day. I know you’re eager to jump right into that new data in your hands but…” I shrugged, walking away slightly towards the cafeteria, “it’s not wise to work on an empty stomach, right Doctor?”
I could hear a sigh behind me. Not the sigh of annoyance that I was pestering her. It was a sigh of annoyance that I was right. And I couldn’t wait to hear such a lovely sigh through that mask for days to come, very minor days I could actually prove her right.
The sigh was followed by her footsteps, following me to a delightful happiness only food could provide. Food, and maybe decent company.
And Jacqueline Deveraux, oddly enough, was decent company to have.