Bounce, bounce, somersault, flump. Myles hit the dirt a final time and skidded another ten feet. He came to rest staring up at the purple sky when he heard the fae.
“Yargggbleugh” shouted the sea urchin thing as it dashed at the stunned Myles.
It made a dull flump sound as newly liquefied brains forced it to drop it to the floor courtesy of Zara and her sonic weapon. The ringing in Myles’ ears was replaced with a slow clap, also supplied by Zara. It was still breathing, so Myles thought he had at least a little time before the armour was cancelled.
“So this is the power of a Fairy Triggers augment,” said Zara, who held a hand over her mouth to obfuscate the corpsing.
Realising how the augment must work, Myles stood up and readied himself to try again. He summoned the orb to his palm this time, but gripped it slightly to keep it in his hand. He then cocked his arm back and threw with all his technology-driven might. The orb landed a fair distance away bounced once, rolled and precisely three seconds from the time it left Myles’ hand, it blew a big hole in the ground. It was not an energy projectile… it was a grenade. Playtime however was over as the sea-urchin breathed its last and the suit returned to sub-space.
“That was much more impressive than the first time,” said Zara “Although my godson has a birthday party coming up, I don’t suppose we could hire you as entertainment?”
Myles answered Zara with a two-finger salute.
“I’ll pencil you in as a maybe,” said Zara.
Plenty of practice was had on the daily patrols but a problematic pattern emerged. Myles was not immune to his golden orb grenades. On several occasions, his aim had not been true and the rebound had sent the orb back towards him. Zara gave up all pretence of professionalism around the time Myles blew himself into a sweetshop. He was forced to pick bits of cinder toffee and various boiled sweets off his suit to a soundtrack of giggles and snorts.
“I think I've got a sherbet dipper in a hard-to-reach place” Myles said attempting to remove the offending confectionery.
“You look like the armour is riding up,” said Zara
“Emergency over, it was just broken glass,” said Myles pulling the shard free.
“At least your aim is improving” added Zara. “Anyway, tidy up all your dead fairy corpses and meet me back at the park for real training.”
“It’s more of a churned-up mud pit these days”
“Whatever, just meet me there for training” said Zara, heading off in the direction of where the park used to be.
The suit had not disengaged so Myles looked around for any fae that were still alive. There was a fortunately empty bogglebear still breathing. Myles crushed its head underfoot. Part of him worried about how numb he was becoming to the brutality. Indeed he recognised part of the reason for the brutality was his weakness, He simply could not afford to give ground, fight fair or display anything so noble as honour. Another part of him would also never forget what happens when a fae gets their hands on regular people. The suit popped back into his sub-space signalling the end of the bogglebear. A series of tinkles of glass hitting the floor revealed the shard Myles had missed earlier. He began putting the latest round of the fae that he had begun to think of as fodder… the very disposable first waves that seemed to come through in groups, when he heard a woman shouting him.
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“You,” said the voice with a clear accusation “You, it’s all your fault”
Myles had orientated himself in the proper direction to see the source of the complaints just in time to get a rock in the face. He knew the accelerated regeneration was more for missing limbs and organs, but he was grateful it would take care of the black eye and missing tooth caused by that impact. Still dozy from the impact he felt nails rake across his face.
“Couldn’t just die or be a good little machine like the others.” She was screaming “I was getting promoted out of this shit hole, had everything packed ready to dive out on…”
The rant was stopped by an aggressive act of gender equality from Myles. This left him with a small 5ft problem, but a solution was at hand. He was not trying to make a habit out of looting, but once more Myles entered a broken shop front to get what he needed. Within a few minutes, the woman was tied up with a roll of duct tape and slung over his shoulder. The clean-up went a little slower than normal with Myles needing to carefully balance on one foot as he used the other to touch the dead bodies and slurp them up into his inventory. Job done, Myles steadied the 5ft redhead her his shoulder and made his way carefully to the park.
“I can’t leave you alone for five bloody minutes Endeavour… and where did you get duct tape,” said Zara “Talk quickly before I shoot you for being a serial killer”
“Most people would be making a joke about this ridiculous situation, but the gun pointed at me tells me you are serious” groused Myles.
After a brief explanation about the thrown rock and what the woman had said Zara decided that Myles was not a serial killer. Or at least a really bad one.
“Next time I’ll tie her up with liquorice laces then” Grumped Myles
“Ew, no. No one deserves that,” said Zara making a face.
“What are you two talking about, and put me the fuck down.” Shouted the small redhead
Myles complied and dropped her to the floor. It was a dick move, but he was feeling churlish after she introduced his face to a flying rock earlier. There was a dull thud and some extravagant cursing… Myles caught something about pasties. After she finished her tirade Myles, still not in a forgiving mood did the next horrible thing to the redhead.
“Zara, you question her.” Said Myles.
The evil grin she gave the redhead would often pop into the mind of Myles Endeavour, sometimes for wholesome reasons. The actions she took next, however, would not.
“Keep up Endeavour” Shouted Zara from the front.
Myles didn’t answer, he just huffed and wheezed.
“Fuck you both” shouted the redhead as she was jostled up and down as Myles ran laps around the former park slash potential future small lake.
“Ready to talk to us more civilly?” asked Zara
“…Yes.” said the defeated redhead.
Myles too tired and out of fucks, let her roll off his shoulder. She hit the muddy floor… it had been a very sharp rock.
“I worked for Sweetbright” began the muddy redhead. “I got a promotion for successfully spying on this prick and his black friend.”
“Could we maybe make this less racially changed please,” said Myles
“I was spying on you and your friend with the very Caribbean-looking dreadlocks.”
“Close enough,” said Myles.
“That netted me a ticket out of this nameless dump, but dickbags here and his…Dreadlock-wearing friend barged into the local HQ and made the bosses trigger this purple-skied bugger up.” The Redhead fumed.
“Endeavour, hold her still.” said Zara, the command clear in her voice.
Myles held the redhead still while Zara grabbed her arm and tugged her right sleeve up her arm.
“Fuck…” Said Zara. She stood up, walked away and swore loudly to herself
On the arm of the redhead was a small device, it was smaller than what had been in the arm of Cerulean Sweet, but it looked very similar.
“Zara, is this about the insertable technology?” asked Myles
“Yes…No..Maybe…” said Zara. “That thing on her arm is community technology, that’s the exact same thing we give support staff so they can remember everything.”
Myles did not need to answer back, the implication was clear. Cerulean Sweet had an inside man at best, or at worst, had been on the inside. Sweetbright had not only had a whole side operating under the radar of the community, it had been doing so with all its very own tools. Myles did not know what to make of that, he was still new and on the very outside of the community, but he had not been lured to the harvest site for his karaoke skills.
“Miss, Why does Sweetbright was dead fairy parts?” asked Myles
“It’s Ms actually.” said the Redhead. “Ms Wembley, and I thought the answer was obvious, they want them for the same reason you people do, to make weapons and equipment.”
“How?” Myles said with surprise
“How should I know, I’m low-level, I was on my way to a cushy job at the production site before you fitted it all up by pissing off the big boss… What did you even do to get him mad enough to trigger this shit show?” said Ms. Wembley.
“I cut his hands off,” said Myles.
“…That would do it, he is known to hate losing, there was a rumour a guy he played darts with one lunchtime got his arms broken,” said Ms. Wembley.
“When we get out of here you are taking us to that production site,” Said Zara who was glaring at Ms. Wembley in the exact way that gave Myles funny feelings.
“Good luck with that, the turn protocol lasts for months!” said Ms. Wembley.
“About that” Said Myles.