Maria didn’t speak when the door clicked shut. She didn’t speak when Christine produced her badge and put it down on the table between them. She knew what it said. She knew Christine knew. Special Inspector. Her brown eyes kept locked with her green.
“We don’t know what is going on,” Christine started first. “But we’re grasping at the shape of it.”
Maria looked the Special Inspector over. She didn’t see any sign of a weapon, but that meant nothing.
“We’re not doing this here. We’re hitting the road.”
The German looked confused for a moment. Maria decided to enlighten her.
“Should something happen, I’d rather my son not come back to the mess. You understand,” Maria said. “We’ll take your car.”
“He seems-.”
“No. You don’t get to try to play nice cop with my fucking child.”
Christine collected her badge. “Very well. We’ll play it your way.”
The car was standard issue S.U.N. fair. At least, on the surface. Maria slid into the passenger seat, crossing her arms. Christine watched her warily as the car started. She visibly flinched when Maria glanced at her.
“Problem?”
The East German frowned. “No.”
“If I was going to do anything I would have by now,” Maria said.
“That’s what you say.”
The car was quiet. Damn near silent. Maria wasn’t aware they had models like this. She realized this must have been a new type, provided by Terra Sung specifically for this purpose. She never would have heard them approach from the start. This told Maria one thing.
They did not plan to kill her outright.
Ritter herself coming was a sign of that. It would have been trivial to send a goon squad to bring her in. Whatever information they possessed must have been tenuous. She saw her son running laps with a friend. TJ, she believed. Christine looked at Maria as they hit the main road. She directed the SI towards the docks. The S.U.N. seized control of the docks after the ’84 attacks and more recently shut them down. No one important would be around.
They arrived without a word said between them. Maria didn’t bother getting out.
“Tell me why we’re talking, I’ll decide what to say from there.”
“That’s not how this works, Maria,” Christine said.
“Unless you have something concrete, that is exactly how this works. We allow one another a certain amount of slack. I’m assuming you’re not interrupting me in my civilian life over nothing, and so you should be able to back your shit up. You came to me alone, so you trust me to some degree.”
Christine sighed. “The KGB was simpler. If you wanted to know things, you would.” When Maria didn’t react, she continued. “We both know you are aware, more so than I could possibly fathom, but fine. I will lay it out. There is a deep-rooted conspiracy within the Supreme United Nations to support unlawful, expansionist ambitions. I have been commissioned to get to the bottom of this and sort out the saboteurs and traitors within.”
“What does this apparent conspiracy plan to do? Who are involved? How deep does it run?”
Christine looked away. “These are unclear. If we knew, we could take decisive action. We have suspicions about what could be, and who could be, but nothing concrete.”
“But you suspect me,” Maria said.
“Our informant has reason to,” Christine said.
Terra Sung. Maria realized while other Agents involved in the whole affair were running more despicable jobs, none of them involved the heavy use of the Titan uniforms. None but her. The bitch could have been tracking where she was through it. Noticed irregularities. It wasn’t a feature she knew about but thinking it through it didn’t surprise Maria.
“And you came to me.” Maria looked to the unforgiving stars. Beacons of horror and misfortune. “How flattering.”
“We believe you are of strong moral standing. That, if you are involved, you could be reasoned with to destroy this whole operation. With proper compensation as well.”
Maria was silent.
“It’s for the good of the world,” Christine said.
“How do you know that this supposed conspiracy wouldn’t benefit mankind?”
“We must keep the peace, Maria. Surely you understand this. Whatever this aims to do would disrupt the balance of the world. Destroy whatever stability we have managed to create.”
“What you want is impossible. You want to preserve the here and now, but you don’t even realize how rotten it is at its core. What do you think happens in a few months? A few weeks? The USSR is bleeding out. The wall is crumbling. China is buckling. Do you think stopping people from trying to change the world is going to help?”
“The methods they’re using are unethical! If they wanted to change things for the better, they need to use proper channels.”
“Unethical!” Maria repeated. “That’s so childish! You’re not a damn toddler. This is the real world, Ritter. We don’t find progress in the system. You find progress by breaking the system over your fucking knee and seeing what you can put back together. Nothing worth a damn was accomplished without shedding blood, sweat and tears.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“What we have may not be sustainable, may not even be worth preserving, but at least we know what it is.” Christine fixed Maria with a cold stare. “You’re sure what they’re trying to do is worth a damn? That it won’t make things worse? That these people aren’t part of the problem?”
Maria didn’t answer. Opening the car door, she let the breeze embrace her. It smelled of blood and salt. She got out. Christine followed her. Crossing over, standing a few feet away, the blonde pulled a folder from her breast pocket. She looked hesitant.
“The major concerns that brought this investigation into effect is who has been tied to this conspiracy. We genuinely don’t know how connected you are, so this may be news to you. One of the parties, a chief figure, is a criminal force that has ties all over the world. Gangs, mercenary corps, gun runners, you name it. He’s colloquially known as Mr. Smith.” She placed the folder between them. “His presence is unnerving to say the least.”
Her words made Maria’s body chill. That let a few things fall into place. She did not take the folder, staring up at the unforgiven stars instead.
“Are you a religious woman, Christine?”
Christine looked confused before nodding. “Yes. I was raised Jewish. My grandparents did what they could with me.”
The before, though unsaid, was deafening.
“What about you?”
“I don’t know,” Maria said. “I guess, if you asked if I think there’s a God, or a higher power out there, sure. I can buy that. Why not? Now, do I believe in whoever the Hell they are? No. I don’t believe in anyone. I don’t care who they are, they will let you down. They will let me down.” She looked down. “Almost anyone,” she amended. “I believe in one person.”
“Yourself?”
Christine was still so young. Maria had joined the Supreme United Nations at her age. Though she had seen plenty on the road and in the US Military, nothing would have prepared her for what came after. There was pain in Christine’s eyes, a haunted expression regrettably too common these days. But the curse of wisdom, earned by age and hardship, eluded her.
“You wouldn’t understand.” Maria stepped away from the car. “I’ve got a mission tomorrow. After I return, contact me. We’ll talk.”
Christine scowled. “You’re risking a lot.”
“I’d think so. I have a lot to risk.”
Quiet dragged on between them, Christine turning her gaze skyward.
“What are they?” She said. “The monster that took away my home. Left nothing but rubble in its wake. I still can’t get an open answer. Information on them is restricted, even from me.”
“I don’t know. We have names for them,” Maria laughed. It felt bitter in her throat. “Some call them angels. Be not afraid and all that.”
“What I saw was not divine. It was a demon.”
“Maybe these Angels ascend from Hell? I couldn’t tell you. There’s a lot, Christine, you don’t know about. Yet. You will. If you live long enough. All the nightmares of Hell and Heaven and whatever else there could be dwell in the darkness. God have pity on us when they come out into the light.” Maria turned from the car and started back towards the main road. “I only hope we’re strong enough to survive.”
“Where are you going?” The younger woman said.
“Home. I’m walking. I told you what I was going to. Once I’m done, we’ll talk. You go back to Itsuki and tell him that. I don’t want to see you at my home ever again.”
“You’re assuming you’ll come back alive.”
Maria laughed. It was a harsh, hollow noise. Her back to the Agent, she raised her fist, flashing a thumbs up. “I’m too stubborn to die.”
It was late when she returned. The air was frigid, dew gathering on the grass. Her home was dark, no surprise to be sure. Maria touched the red door, fingers lingering on the grain. Soon this too could be gone. Her hand trailed to the handle, guilt over leaving her boy so abruptly stalling such a simple action. Breathing in, she opened the door. The glare of moonlight flooded the darkened room, revealing Jordan sleeping on the couch.
The sight made her chest ache. Her status, her career, her plans for all she had to do fled. Her child shivered in the night air, without so much as a blanket. Gently she traced his face. So much of his late father was there, but she saw more. More than her, more than him. Her child would be special.
He already was.
Grey eyes opened in the light of the moon, staring at her in confusion.
“Sorry Mijo,” Maria sat next to Jordan. “I needed to take care of that.”
His face betrayed his lie. “It’s fine.”
He was never good at hiding how he felt.
“No, it’s not.”
Though he was awake, he did not move from his place. He looked away from her. She began to stroke his hair.
“It’s okay to cry, you know,” Maria said. “It’s healthy, I believe. So long as you don’t let them be an excuse to hesitate, tears should be shed.”
As if all he was waiting for was permission, wetness filled his eyes. Quietly he cried, Maria dragging him into her lap. He was too big now to have much more than his head but it was enough, she hoped, to comfort him.
“Is it wrong,” he said between breaths. “To cry?”
She looked to the moon. “Never.”
“Why don’t you cry?”
His question gave her pause.
“At some point I couldn’t anymore. It got in the way of what I needed to do. Instead, I engraved my sadness on my heart.”
After a few moments of silence, she continued. “But, if I had my way, you would never have to stop. You could shed as many tears as you needed.”
“Even though you don’t?”
Maria smiled. “I only know how to fight, Mijo. That’s no way to live.”
“What kind of person was my dad?” He looked at her again.
For twelve years she said as little about Shiro to him as she could. Sighing, she rubbed his shoulder.
“Handsome. Brave. Maybe a little forward,” she laughed. He grinned himself. “I didn’t know Shiro too well. We met while working. I can’t promise we would have stayed together. He had a wanderlust to him that I don’t know if anything could have settled. He would have liked to meet you.”
“He didn’t know you were pregnant?”
Maria shook her head. “I was maybe three weeks along when he had his accident. I didn’t know for a little while after.”
Jordan was quiet.
“I have to go tomorrow, while you’re on your trip,” Maria said. “I know you know already but, after that, things will change.”
Jordan pulled his legs up closer. “You’ve said that before.”
She sighed. “I know.”
The two sat like that for a time. Then Jordan shifted. “Would you sing to me?”
Maria smiled. “I haven’t done that in a while, have I?”
He nodded.
“Alright. This is a song my papa would sing to me when I was little. It’s a Yiddish song I believe, but he sang it in Spanish. I’ll do my best to translate.” Reaching deep into her memory, she began humming the tune. Building it up in her throat, the tone of the song took shape.
“Don’t look for me in the greenery of spring, you will not find me there my child,” she sang, Jordan looking up at her. “Where lives are wasted by machinery, there is my resting place, my dearest one.”
Memories of her father, filthy from a fruitless day’s work, hovering over her bed at night came swarming back.
“Don’t look for me where birds are singing. The chains of slavery are ringing at my resting place, my own blood.” Where was he now? Was he even alive? She abandoned that life so long ago.
“Nor where the streams of life are flowing. I can be found where spirits fail and tears are falling, my only one.” Jordan watched her, enraptured. Just as she always watched him.
“So, if indeed you love me truly,” she kissed his forehead. “Then come to me, my little one.”
Whatever it took to protect him from the ills to come, she would do it. “Lift my heavy heart from sorrow. Make it sweet my resting place.” Lost to the tune, she continued in Spanish for a bar, repeating the final lines. Finally, she resumed humming, fingers massaging her boy’s scalp.
Eventually he fell to sleep. She joined him shortly.