Ch. 4
After their weapons check, Elsbeth had taken Trey back to the bedroom and gotten her settled with the portable DVD player. She chose another movie from her extensive animated collection for her. This one was about an old man who lifted his house by balloons— Elz felt it fit the occasion.
"A movie like the journey," she explained. The opening notes of “When you wish upon a star” filled the small space, as the tale of adventure and unlikely friendships began.
"Life's an adventure, huh mommy?" Trey murmured, all thoughts of work falling away as she relaxed.
"Always," Elsbeth agreed, her arm encircling Trey as she kissed her on her head.
Returning to the main cabin she settled into the plush seat, her gaze landing on the envelope sitting on the table in front of her. The Old Man leaned forward, the faintest crease of interest etching his otherwise impassive face.
“The dossier?” he murmured, reaching for it and passing it over to her.
“I guess,” she replied, her voice low and steady. She turned it over and over in her hands, curious. “Why paper?” she wondered, looking over at the tablet she’d just put down. “They always communicate with me through the TDC.”
The Old Man shrugged. “If you only want to get the dog’s attention, you use a dog whistle.”
Elsbeth nodded and opened the envelope. She extracted a sheet, quickly scanning the project details. The word “Eradication” jumped out at her. “The flock’s massive. They’re not just culling the flock—they want them fully destroyed.”
“Would that be more dangerous than your normal job?” The Old Man asked.
“Not really. We don’t have to clear them all in one day. We can cull in shifts. As long as the birds don’t try to follow us when we’re ready to leave.” She continued reading.
“Looks like its two flocks, Mag Mutates and Heirloom Magpies. No sapients, so even if they chase us, they won’t… Shit!” Elsbeth had reached the section detailing the makeup of the flock, and suddenly the job made more sense.
“The Mag Mutates aren’t Covids. They’re Australian Magpies.”
The Old Man grimaced. “Aussie Magpies were vicious long before they mutated, and they would definitely chase you. That might be tough.”
“Nothing we haven’t dealt with in some form before. That’s why I like smoke grenades... to level the playing field.” Elz was still going through the sheets included in the briefing. “There’re some details here about the nearby villages. They’re mostly abandoned but there’s a pharmaceutical manufacturer, some nurseries and a couple of farms in the area. Might be a good place to scavenge.”
The Old Man looked interested. “Farms huh? Do they always give you these kinds of details?”
Elz shook her head. “No, its usually… we need you to go here, kill this many birds, come home.”
“So there is more going on than they want the Treaty Center to know.”
“Definitely seems like it.” Elz held up another sheet of paper. “Another job, a week or so after the Magpies,” She paused for effect, “in Norway.”
"Another job so soon?" The Old Man mused as he stood. "They’re trying to keep you busy."
"Or dead," Elsbeth countered, but her lips twitched upwards. Survival was a game she played well. More than that though, she trusted the Creaux. If they wanted to kill her they wouldn’t have to do this much. Corvids were pretty straightforward and very smart.
As The Old Man left to tend to his tomato plant, Elsbeth continued to study the details included in the information packet provided. When she was satisfied that she had gleaned everything she needed from the dossier, she memorized the map of the nearby villages and took note of all the buildings that looked like they would be good places to hide, scavenge or rest. She marked all those locations on the map and set it aside for Trey to study later—everything else went back into the envelope.
Saving the Heirloom flock while eliminating all of the invasive Mutates would require a bit of planning, and there was no way to scope out the location in advance without alerting the birds. Elz wasn’t sure how she was going to get the job done, but she was confident she would figure it out.
Elsbeth trusted her instincts. Those instincts had led her to work exclusively for the Creaux, and had kept her alive for many years through many difficult and dangerous situations. So she trusted them now, as they told her that things would go smoothly on this job and that her faith in the Creaux was not misplaced. Still, she wasn’t a blind follower, and she couldn’t help feeling that she was missing some important details. Not something she herself had missed but some vital information that had been withheld. It was a feeling that began with the unusually high contract fee, and only strengthened with each diversion from normal procedures that occurred. The ease with which she’d been handled by the Trinity was the strongest indication. They obviously had access to a source of information about her, knowing way more than she’d expected them to before she’d arrived.
Thinking of The Trinity reminded Elsbeth that she hadn’t checked on the deliveries from The Tailor and The Alchemist. As a matter of fact, there was something else she had forgotten as well. She walked towards the stack of gear as she called across the cabin…
“Hey, Old Man… Xiong?”
Man Xiong stepped out of the greenhouse room at the far side of the kitchenette. “Where did you hear that name?”
“From The Alchemist,” Elsbeth responded, “She said to tell you she’s glad to know you’re still alive.”
“She knew,” The Old Man scoffed, then mumbled. “the old witch.”
“Oh? There is a story there, I wanna hear it.”
Man Xiong turned back towards the greenhouse. “Story for another time.” He paused and looked at Elsbeth as though he wanted to say more, then, as if shaking away the thought, he shook his head and continued on his way. Elsbeth heard him mumble as the greenhouse door closed behind him. “Another time.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
The Old Man could have his secrets until he was ready to share. Elsbeth didn't mind. He’d always been a bit mysterious. She was sure that he would open up when it was needed.
Sitting in a pile of their own, three cases and the two rucksacks stood out from the rest of her gear and equipment. They were brand new and unblemished, for one, missing the dings, tears and scratches that had accumulated on Elsbeth’s scavenged gear— and, they were in matched sets. Although primarily black, the smaller of the rucksacks was accented in pink with the three-lion motif from Trey’s weapon’s case embroidered on the front. The other pieces were all black on black, matte accented with glossy black straps. Elsbeth found some humor in their unblemished presentation. The cases themselves were ultimately unimportant to her, merely delivery packaging, yet their alien perfection fit flawlessly with the gleaming airship. If anything, they shone a spotlight on the shabby nature of Elsbeth’s existence—they belonged, her worn and battered baggage were the interlopers. The rumination was momentary. Elsbeth held had no place in her mind for thoughts that could derail her. The cases and their contents were merely new tools in the arsenal, and they most likely wouldn’t stay pretty for long.
Elz grabbed the two rucksacks and took them back to the room. Unzipping the larger of the two, she pulled out the neatly folded clothing and a couple of sheets of paper—the first was labeled “packing list”. On the list was a complete rundown of the gear provided by The Tailor: two tactical suits of Kevlar gear, gloves, goggles, boots and an “all weather overcoat”. At the bottom of the list were care instructions.
Setting the papers aside, Elsbeth shook out the first piece, the jacket, and held it aloft in front of her before slipping it on. It was lighter than their usual gear, which was to be expected given their cobbled together nature. It was lined; the lining felt like a soft cotton blend, and Elsbeth could see where it snapped to the shell of the shirt. She fingered the fabric as she inspected the sleeves. There were utility pockets galore and she could that there was another layer inside the lining. Even constructed in multiple layers, the jacket was surprisingly less bulky than she’d expected.
The pants and gloves had the same type of construction: lined, lightweight and flexible. She gave them each a quick once over before putting them on. Finally she reached into the rucksack again and pulled out the boots that had been included with the set—high-top tactical boots with reinforced toes and soles— in the correct size.
“Wow!” Trey spoke up from the bed, where she had paused the movie to watch her mother get dressed. “You look awesome. Do I get new clothes? Pink clothes?” She began bouncing excitedly on the bed. “Pink clothes would be sooo awesome.”
Elsbeth grinned. “Well let’s see.” She pulled the second rucksack up from the floor and dropped it next to Trey. Trey squealed in excitement at the sight of the pink accented bag and wasted no time in tearing the zipper open.
“Careful with that.” Elz warned, moments too late. Trey was already pulling her gear out of the pack.
“Aww, its all black.” Trey whined, not for one second losing her momentum in emptying the bag. As she unbuttoned the jacket, her mood brightened once again. “The inside is pink!”
Elsbeth finished reading the papers from her pack as Trey got dressed and pulled her boots on. Elz began fiddling with the rucksack, unzipping and unsnapping fasteners until it unfolded into a matching poncho. She held it out for Trey and helped her put it on over her suit.
“It fits.” Trey gasped as she looked at herself in the standing mirror. She pulled the hood of the poncho over her head and struck a pose. Noticing a seam at the front of the poncho, Trey pulled at it and it separated down the front, opening up like a coat. The straps of the rucksack hung loosely on the inside of the poncho. Elz watched as Trey played with them, until they were fastened around her waist, holding the poncho to her. She’s transformed it into a cinched trench coat, allowing her access to the pockets of her outfit.
Elsbeth stared at the ensemble for several silent minutes. Not only did everything fit, they fit well. Just as hers did. That feeling of being out of the loop struck again. It wasn't really about the clothing, but there was no way this was all done overnight. The workmanship involved in the design and construction clearly told on The Tailor— this gear had taken time.
“Okay. Take it off. You can wear them again tomorrow when training begins.”
“Aww, Mommy. I wanna wear it.”
“Nope. It’s still an off day. No work related stuff until tomorrow.” Elz motioned for Trey to take of the tactical coat and uniform, and followed suit. They then practiced folding the coat back into a rucksack before finally stashing all their new gear back into it.
“Bye Jayceeyoos. See you tomorrow.” Trey patted her rucksack and hopped back onto the bed, turning the movie back on.
“JCUs?” Elz asked.
“Yup. Jones Combat Uniforms.” Trey giggled. Elsbeth laughed out loud. The kid was a nut, but she had long since claimed naming rights on all their gear. That's why the guns the Feeders used were called Servers—because of kid logic.
After the movie, Elz returned to the main cabin to finish checking out the rest of the deliveries from the Trinity. She bypassed the first case on the stack, setting it on the floor to the side. Containing the pistols and knives that The Blacksmith had created for her, it contained no surprises as she’d taken them home with her the night before. She pulled the second case down off the stack. It was twice the size of the gun cases and had three warning symbols carved into the lid. She opened it to find the full assortment of chemical grenades nestled into their little foam cradles. It seemed that her request for smoke grenades only, had been ignored.
Satisfied that she’d seen everything she needed to see for the time being, Elsbeth restacked all the cases at the back of the cabin. She left the instruction manuals and packing lists with the dossier on the table, silently adding them to Trey’s prep work for the job.
“Okay, what’s here to make for lunch?”
***
The next morning, after having spent the majority of their first day relaxing and watching movies with Trey, Elz switched back into work mode immediately. She woke Trey up early as usual and they got back into their daily routine.
Trey studied the map of Cilgerran and the inserts included with the new grenades and guns. Once she was able to convince Elz that she’d absorbed all the information, she was able to move on to training with the Old Man. In the years that they had trained together, Trey had shadowed The Old Man, absorbing his every move until her skills had improved from a child’s mere mimicry of his movements, to a deliberate mastery of her own. His lessons had evolved into a unique fighting style which she shared with her mother. The Old Man adjusted his teaching to cultivate that style, based as it was on their instincts and shared experiences.
Dressed in their new JCUs, as Trey called them, Elsbeth and Trey both sparred with Man Xiong. Their training sessions were a dance of discipline and muscle memory. They had already been drilled until Elsbeth and Trey could predict each other’s moves, and now they were a synchronized pair going through the motions. Elsbeth fought while evaluating how well they moved in the new outfits and looking for issues with accessing their weapons or gear. The outfits were well designed. Even with the ponchos on, they were hard pressed to find complaints, as the coat moved without hindering them. Once she was certain that the outfits were good for their needs, Elz had Trey get fully loaded and had her running an obstacle course in the main cabin. By lunchtime, everyone was exhausted, but both Elsbeth and Trey felt good about the new additions to their arsenal.
The Old Man made lunch, and after lunch they were back to the routine. Trey spent a few hours studying as she had to keep up with academics as well as her martial training. Another sparring session with Elz was on the schedule before she could truly call it a day, but after that her time was free again. They spent that first evening on the upper levels looking out over the Atlantic as the Airship continued steadily northeast towards England.
The days stretched before them, each one a repeat of the routines of the previous day. Only the books and the movies consumed during their leisure time changed, and yet boredom never set in. To Trey, it was the adventure of a lifetime.
It seemed like no time at all before they were once again over land..