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"You can’t? Ok, so… First of all, why did you escape from the tower? Do you think it was easy to save you? Not to mention... do you know how much it costs to repair an elevator?!", I ranted.
"Why you had to chase me with such fury? I've run from the cops before and they never tried so obsessively to catch me! Are you some kind of crazy guy or something?". She definitely had a point.
"Call me exalted, fixated, framed, whatever. I prefer to look at my job as my hobby, so I don't mind overdoing it. Though the higher-ups don't always understand, much less ordinary people like you"
"Ordinary?", she scanned that word as if it was an indecent insult. "Excuse his Excellency obsessed knight hero from Seattle, if this poor ignorant commoner cannot understand this dedication. Nous les Européens sommes si provinciaux, can you ever forgive me?".
"Very funny. Now answer my question", I cut it short annoyed.
"Well," she began slowly with a low stare. "It could be that maybe not all of my documents are exactly valid for this area of Sol. Or valid in general. Or exist".
I think my blank expression let out a deep sense of bewilderment, at least for the first three seconds. Then it was light in my mind.
"Please don't report me!", she pleaded desperately. Of course I should had to.
"Are you an illegal?", I asked beginning to understand.
"I....".
"Yeah, right. One-way ticket to a Dominion. Is that why you ran away? You would have been found out".
"Yes. Please!". She was getting nervous again.
"Why are you abusive? Crimes? Unemployed? Are you at the end of your quiescence?", I asked looking for a solution that couldn't actually exist.
"Orphaned...I don't have parents," she replied.
Like me. I made the serious mistake of feeling empathy towards her, inevitably making my situation worse. I stood thinking for a few minutes, always scrutinized by incredible emerald green eyes. I thought that I wasn't the type to be softened by a sniveling female, but I wasn't the kind of person who likes to rage on weak. Maybe in that case I could turn a blind eye. After all, if I hadn't had the privilege of having a soldier father, I would have too ended up deported to some Dominion far from Terra instead of an academy. "Maybe we can help each other after all. No police, dangerous pursuers... it might work. After all, they followed you here, they have their ways to get you," I mulled to myself. "If I kept an eye on you for a while maybe I could get what I want. Set up a trap. I'll get you a room in my hotel. With any luck, our friends will show up at the right time and I'll have a few bodies to charge in silver dollars for my superiors".
"In.... your hotel?", she repeated, punctuating the words well. She was definitely thinking of something filthy.
"Or perhaps you'd rather spend a night in the guardhouse at the nearest police station?".
"Am I your bait now?", she protested. "Are you hoping they'll come after me?".
"They'll come anyway. No matter what, you're bait, Miss Dumas. I just want the fish", I observed. "I could set an ambush for them in the right place. Maybe around here...".
"So, if I follow you, you won't turn me in?", she asked.
"No".
"Promise?".
"Yeah" I replied with a nod of my head. "We have a deal."
She nodded, probably realizing that she had run out of options. The girl suddenly looked very embarrassed. "I can't afford to pay for a hotel".
"I'll take care of everything", I replied, hinting at a smile. "Think of it as a fancy witness protection program, like in the movies".
"I don’t take charity!".
"Let's say we do what you say, how do we work it out? I'm not going to give up my comforts for a matter of principle! I told you it’s ok! You don't owe anything, I don't have money problems", I insisted. "Paying for your lodging a couple of days won't bankrupt me."
She nodded again, looking into my eyes. There was something strange about that look.
I was only able to sustain it for a few seconds before I pulled mine away and retrieved my shirt from the floor, giving it a couple of shakes to remove the dust.
"Matt's going to kill me, look at that," I commented, observing the state of the borrowed garment and wearing it without buttoning it.
"I'm sorry", she apologized.
"I couldn't leave you with your head on the concrete", I said spontaneously. She looked at me again, hinting at a shy smile. I sighed to banish a strange discomfort then gave her a listless nod. "Come on, let's go".
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"You're staying at the Jaurès?!", she asked in amazement as we got off the air cab. I just nodded indifferently. I didn't share all her enthusiasm, after all it was standard for me whenever I managed not to sleep in a military facility.
We took the elevator up to the floor of the tower where the hotel was located. We were pretty high up. The hotel reception was a large hall covered with fancy marble and wallpaper, red moquette and 18th century style chandeliers, surrounded on two sides by large panoramic windows that allowed us to admire from above the canyon of towers that made up the new Paris and the few monuments that had survived the nuclear bombing.
"It almost looks like a nice city from here", I commented dismissively, lingering on the view.
"Because it is a beautiful city", she retorted full of pride. "Just a little messy".
"If you say so", I replied scornfully.
In the midst of the hotel's affluent clientele moving calmly through the perfumed and impeccable establishments, Deena stood out in all her strangeness, casting glances of wonder and amazement left and right and receiving, on the contrary, looks of disgust and suspicion.
Among the crowd I finally managed to spot Matt, who as soon as he saw me ran towards me.
"Welcome back! I had to tell Carter that you were locked in the bathroom with a tummy ache! You'll have to report back to him later about the Athena incident. However last night I finally got a couple of fake papers, we are of age and I am also a widower! My Moulin is waiting for us! Did you catch that slut?".
"I have far more demanding plans for tonight. And so do you", I sneered.
"What?". He looked at me confused, then he observed my face. "You... you're smiling. That's a bad sign. Give me your pouty face again please! When you make that face, you're about to mess things up. Aren't you? I know, I know, what are you going to do Daith?".
"We're having a guest".
"Who?". He was too absorbed in his fantasies to notice a small, guarded figure hiding from all gaze behind me. As soon as he saw her, his face lit up for a moment before he caught her scent. "Hello, who do we have here?", he greeted with a dumbfounded look.
"Hi," Deena replied, shaking the young man's hand. "I'm that slut, nice to meet you".
Matt made himself small. "S-Sometimes the sayings of us Americans are a little hard to get straight, um... Matt Fowler, nice to meet you, by the way".
"Just that?", she asked sarcastically squaring Matt and guessing he was a colleague of mine. "I thought Seattle Military Academy was some sort of last name for you".
Matt and I looked at each other, then he burst out laughing. "Daith, I like this girl!"
"Call off your dates for tonight. We need to talk. I screwed up."
"Oh, shit. Again?", he protested scratching his head. "I spent a lot of money on those papers!".
"This time it's not just a game, Matt. It's serious".
"Serious, you say", he repeated, looking at the girl again for a few moments. "And here's where old Matt is going to pull you out, like always Little D. I'd have to ask for a paycheck allowance for all this", sobbed stalking off distressed toward the hall. "Enable my access to your room, when you're done, I'll come see you".
"I don't trust that guy", Deena whispered.
"He's a good one. And we don't have a choice", I reassured her. "Come on, enable your SAI, I'll send you some data for the reception".
"SAI?", she asked clearly without understanding.
"Yes, your SAI".
"Ah... you mean the symbiote? The one in the head? I really don't...".
I looked at her heartbrokenly crossing my arms, searching in vain for the ULS port that should have been under her left ear. "You don't have a DNI implant?".
"Well, what's wrong with that?", she replied testily.
"That everyone has a fucking implant? They give it to you for free at ten fucking years old!", I pointed out.
"I don't... I don't exist for the Federation! Do you understand that or not?", she said almost exasperated.
"What do you mean?", I asked bashfully.
"No chip, no implant, no nothing!", she explained. "For the Humanity I do not exist. Is that clear to you now?".
She wasn't just an illegal, she was an invisible one. I wondered how many people were pouring into those conditions while not going to the Domains.
"That's a big problem", I said, returning cooperatively. "They'll never give us a room for you with no papers here. This is not a cash payment motel, if you know what I mean". I didn't tell her what else was bothering me at the time. I was counting on the mercs tracking her movements by monitoring her various credit transactions or location by following her SP address and obviously that wasn't the case.
"You wanted to come here!", she said defensively.
I was never going to come out in one piece with that one, so I decided not to retort and think of a solution. Paris was a decadent city and that was a hotel for the rich. I asked my SAI to navigate the Jaurès portal and find a loophole, which actually happened surprisingly quickly. "The SAI has given me an excellent idea. However, you will have to be cooperative and give up your pride a bit", I told her.
Deena didn't seem to mind. "Someone who is poor certainly doesn't have to have demands. I’ll adapt".
I looked at her from head to toe with an invasive gaze, something that, instead, bothered her enough to make her cover her breast with an arm. "What do you want?"
"Got it. Tie your shirt in a knot, show your belly", I said. "And fix your hair a little".
"Are you insane?", she griped. "Is that why we're here?".
I cast a look so serious and icy that it defused any doubts she had in that regard. She frowned into my eyes and listlessly and ungainly knotted her sweater as I asked, making a knot at the side.
"Now improvise with me", I told her and had her follow me to the reception desk. "Good morning", I began, flaunting a certain attitude.
"Bonjour", replied the receptionist, a smartly dressed middle-aged man. "How may I help you this morning?"
"I want to... um... add a guest supplement", I said awkwardly. "On my suite".
"Ah, I see", replied the man closing his eyes and concentrating for a moment with his SAI to hurry up the operations. "Is that the young lady there? Would you kindly let me log in to get your credentials?".
"We'd rather not", I said certainly turning burgundy with shame. "It's one of those transactions that your site promises to keep discreet".
He opened his eyes again and looked at me puzzled, then looked at Deena circumspectly. She was admirably unprejudiced. She looked at him mischievously and with her tongue went to rhythmically swell her right cheek a couple of times, hinting that she was there on business with a Yankee.
"I see," he said looking at me with a complicit smile. "Don't worry, privacy is always guaranteed for our best customers. In these cases, it's 1000 credits extra per night."
"I'll pay for... I'd say two," I said thoughtfully.
He looked at Deena again then said: "Two nights. I think it's a great deal. Have fun with it. If you need accessories, you can find packages on our website".
We entered the elevator and she hurriedly untied the knot from her crumpled and dirty t-shirt then patted herself to fix it as best she could.
"I'm sorry", I told her sincerely. "It wasn't my intention to make you look like a...".
"It's okay", she said visibly dejected. "Better act as a whore than do that for real".
She didn't have it easy, I'd give her that. From what I'd seen, the suburbs of Paris were comparable to the worst colony in the Dominions I'd ever seen on my training trips.
"You did good", I said, thinking to console her. "Nice act".
"Are you saying I'm credible as a whore or that I'm good at lying?", she asked point blank looking at me crookedly.
"No… I didn't...", I stammered completely taken aback.
Deena's expression gradually changed from angry to cheerful and ended in a sweet, liberating laugh. "I was just kidding. It takes so little to get you in trouble".
"Oh", I huffed first testy then secretly amused, letting a smile escape in relieve.
The entrance to my suite was accompanied by an expression of wonder. Deena had probably never seen such a place in person. "How much are they paying you?".
"Too much", I said hastily. I took off my shirt and tossed it on a leather chair, abandoning myself exhausted on it. An awkward silence descended that I felt compelled to banish. "The bathroom is to the left, the door you see next to the bed. Feel free to get cleaned up. You can call room service if you're hungry and if you want the laundry".
She mirrored herself, noting her filthy clothes and messy hair from the last 48 hours of escapes. "I'm a mess", she whined. "I could be a spot for a sad NGO commercial".
"That makes two of us", I tried to console her by removing my boots from my feet and tossing them a short distance away with little civility.
"I wish I could use the laundry room. I don't have any clothes apart from these", she observed rightly.
"Don't flatter yourself", I told her. "My SAI can deduce your measurements. I'll order something and have it delivered here in a couple of hours".
"Don't even think about it!", she protested. "I'm not accepting any more handouts!".
I looked at her distraught. "With you it’s always a slippery slope".
"I'm poor, not miserable!", she said. "You're a soldier, aren't you? You must have some clothes I can borrow! A tracksuit, something like that".
I couldn't remember what I had in the luggage I had brought to the hotel but I nodded to her pointing to an open suitcase by the side of the bed. "Help yourself".
"Good, thank you", she smiled going to rummage through the luggage, grabbing a few things and going to lock herself in the bathroom. The water began to run behind the door and I relaxed, staring into space for a while.
I still hadn't really thought about why that poor girl had ended up in that situation. Deena appeared to me to be just like any other girl, physical appearance aside. While studying at the academy, I had learned about how criminal organizations invent all sorts of things to make money out of human beings. Sexual slavery, organ trafficking. The human commodity had its value in the marketplace and a smuggled organ surely cost less than a legal cloning. Such insistence and exposure for a simple girl, however, did not seem justifiable by what I knew on the subject. Those criminals had gotten themselves killed by the FMP and the Paris gangs to get their hands on her. Something was up.
The bathroom lock clicked after a good half hour and Deena emerged from the scented vapors. Her bare feet furrowed the carpeted floor as she headed straight for me. She was dressed only in one of my shirts that served as a dress that covered her like a very short skirt would have done. I found myself wondering if she had at least borrowed a pair of my panties or if she really only had that one shirt on.
A childish embarrassment took hold of me. I stiffened, lost my saliva and control over the gaze always tempted by lingering on that vision.
"How do I call the laundry without an AI?", she asked, looking at me with a smile. Having indulged in that little pleasure had washed away most of her stress. It actually made me happy. It had taken so little to stop making her look like a poor suburbanite.
"I-I’ll take care of it", I replied and pointed to the carved wooden closet next to the wall. "Put the clothes in the bag, they'll come by and pick them up".
"What’s wrong with you all of a sudden?", she asked sensing my embarrassment. I probably blushed.
I cleared my throat then flaunted indifference. "Nothing".
"Are you sure, hero? You seem tense", she said looking at me circumspectly.
"Why should I", I contradicted her lying again.
She stood there as if sniffing the air around me to read me inside. "Ah!", she exclaimed. "Now I get it!".
"Get what?".
He stood in front of me, raised his right heel and leaned forward, putting his face inches from mine. I could catch a glimpse of what lay beyond those last few buttons he hadn't closed. He hit me with an amused look cast by those incredibly bright green eyes of her. "Forget it kid!", she said. "There's nothing here for a Nazi like you, got it?".
I was too embarrassed and confused to understand what the hell she was talking about. At that moment, Matt made his entrance into the room, closing the door behind him and standing in salt watching the scene.
"I'll come back if I bother", he said feeling incredibly out of place. The vision of Deena dislocated his jaw.
"No bother!", she said and went to throw herself on the bed to study the use of the remote control of the holographic television.
Matt walked over to me, still following the girl with his eyes. We looked at each other when he was almost about to step on my foot, then I asked him in a low voice, "What's a Nazi?"
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Dinner time arrived and the magnificent dining room of Hotel Jaurès was already full of people, some in evening dress or simply with informal clothes, all intent on calling one of the many busy waiters in order to get the best wines. Matt and I meanwhile were already sitting at our circular table discussing.
"So, there's nothing you want to tell me?", asked Matt.
"Like what?", I replied with my gaze fixed on the empty plate.
"Why did you bring her here and not turn her over to the cops? You've never been this nice to a girl as long as I've known you, and two grands don't just drop like that!"
"Are you my accountant now? I'm just setting my trap with a hint of altruism".
"Is that so? Altruist and philanthropist, what a find!", he said sarcastically. "You have picky, but very refined tastes. We have a Middle East touch, a smattering of European, and eyes that I can't even describe... Now I can see why you moved heaven and earth to track her down! I want you to admit, right here and now, that your guest is pretty damn hot!".
"No need to admit it. Sure, she's pretty. But you’re wrong. You should know by now that I'm not like you! Think about it: I did a lot of shit at the Tower and I pray some camera didn't catch me shooting airborne from that stolen car... I hope by plummeting I didn't do too much damage".
"Shooting, stolen, plummeting, too much damage? How much of this did I miss?", he winced. "They could put me away for aiding and abetting! Could they? They could...".
"It doesn't matter. But I'm sure, so sure that those people want her. They've been kidnapping girls for two weeks straight in Paris. Same age or so, same facial features. We thought it was about a whore or organs ring, but I read the files from the investigation nothing concrete came out about the motive. The blitz at the Tower was only prepared for a lucky interception, otherwise who knows how long it would have gone on. But at the Tower those mercs in particular were not there. Why? Here's what I thought: what if this was some kind of treasure hunt? The people I confronted at the orphanage were simply waiting for the competition to let them figure out which of the girls was the right one to take".
"How would they have figured it out?".
"Something must have set her apart from the others, a difference we haven't noticed yet".
"Well Sherlock impressive reasoning but could you tell what this girl has that is special than the others?", he rightly objected.
"I haven't gotten there yet. All I see is a ragged, illegal, penniless... and well to be fair she has a pretty good right hand and decent agility. But I doubt she's sought so ruthlessly for her physical gifts".
"Maybe she's the daughter of a big boss. Maybe that's why she's in hiding and the mob is after her".
"I don't think she was lying to me. I'd like to make a deal with her, try to buy her trust by offering her a chance. She's terrified of ending up sent to a Dominion, so I thought I'd keep her quiet with some paperwork. She doesn't even have an ID chip. I know you have contacts in the slums. Get the papers, no matter what. They have to be perfect, if she cooperates, we'll drop her and bye-bye, no one will know how we caught them".
"You like using live bait, huh? We'll see what I can do. By the way, your girlfriend is on her way...", he teased me. In response, I kicked him in the shin, which made him jump out of his chair.
"Hi guys", Deena said smiling, quickly sitting down in her seat. She was still wearing my shirt with the sleeves neatly rolled up and obviously now had on his pants and shoes cleaned properly by the hotel staff. "I'm starving".
"Don't flatter yourself", Matt said.
"How nice of you", I teased him. "It's not often you buy dinner".
"B-Buy... oh, c’mon", he mumbled realizing he had screwed himself over with his own hands.
After she was seated, Matt alerted a waiter that we were ready to eat and he nodded his head before scampering quickly to the kitchens adjacent to the dining room, a huge living room furnished as befits a luxury hotel, where even the wallpaper was silk.
"Matt, you ask the questions", I proposed. "You're the smart one".
"Questions? What do you want to know?", asked Deena worriedly.
"Dozens of armed criminals and even PMC teams on their heels. What is it that those mercs want?", asked Matt. "At this point, finding out what's behind this is enough for a citation!".
Deena began to sink into her most recent memories. "Three days ago, I was kidnapped by some guys a couple kilometers from home. They took a close-up picture of me and took me with a bag over my head to that tower, along with the other girls. They were asking us about family members and when I couldn't answer they teased me several times. They must have realized I wasn't lying and stopped. They seemed satisfied actually, but I couldn't tell why. At one point someone even drew blood from me, then they removed my hood and stuffed me under the blanket with the others. No one had any idea why. It was like that test was what divided us into groups. Then I ran away when you guys attacked. I was a fool, I admit it, I wanted to forget that story and to try I pretended that nothing had happened. I took the baker's rusty bicycle and headed home as if nothing had happened. After all, it's still Paris, if you don't get robbed or mugged every now and then, it's not normal. I couldn't figure out what those people wanted from me, I thought you cops would know!".
"We're not cops! We're cadets!", I pointed out annoyed.
"It's the same", she commented contemptuously.
"No, it’s not", Matt contradicted her. "We cadets are a special category. We are trained even as children in various military disciplines and only later decide what to become. Whether officers in the FMP or in the army, in the space fleet, and so on and so forth. Daith and I are in Paris for joint training with the FMP but we are certainly not cops. Neither he nor I are actually aiming for that goal".
"Oh, non?" she asked in amazement. "Then why did you get involved?".
"Fair question", laughed Matt. "Lieutenant Lester here is a typical case of living a shitty life. He only knows his job and for fun he often likes to overdo it, getting himself and his cohort here into trouble".
"Cut it out," I protested.
Deena laughed. "So, you're telling me Matt that your friend Daith is a lame overachiever?".
"No more and no less", he confirmed. "You figured that out right off the bat by telling the truth".
"That's it!", I threatened him by raising a fist and drawing the attention of the diners around. Deena giggled again and Matt pretended he needed to shield himself from a blow he knew would never come.
"Forgive me for being curious", Matt continued, "do you even happen to know your origins? I don't know, hometown, ethnicity, a geographical name at least".
"Paris is a mixture of a thousand things, you've seen it", she sighed. "People here kill each other over a bad look, even less than that sometimes. My folks may have been junkies, drifters, who knows? I was dumped by Dumas as a child, like so many others before and after me. He named me after his ex-wife. I've always lived with him and I've seen a lot of stories like mine".
"So that's it. Maybe it's all in that blood draw. Blood type?".
"I don't know", she replied. "Never been to the hospital".
A waiter brought in a cart of dishes to the table. There was a set menu with tasting that evening and wines were served accompanied by paired courses.
"How come you don't eat anything?", I asked noticing she had not dared to touch any food.
"The smell", Deena answered firmly. "I'm sick by even the smell of meat and this one smells worse than ever. There's luxury here so this one will be real for sure".
"For 50 credits a serving, I'd call that cast gold", Matt said. That meat was really authentic and it was crazy expensive.
"We can have synthetic ones brought in if you don't want this one. I think they have some on the menu", I proposed amazed at that firmness. "Or maybe something insect-based...".
She sighed. She probably felt guilty refusing such generous hospitality and felt compelled to explain. "Have you ever been hungry for real?", she asked with her gaze fixed on her plate.
"All the time", Matt laughed.
"No, I mean really. I'm talking about hunger after three days of just drinking water from fountains to survive and that's it", she said looking at him seriously.
Matt found himself at a loss. He wasn't from a wealthy family or even a well-to-do one but that was certainly not among his experiences.
"We fasted", I said trying to save him. "We did that survival module, remember? If you got lost and didn't make it to the designated spot, no rations".
"Oh yeah. But I found the spot that time", he recalled with some difficulty. I suddenly blushed. "You didn't?", he pointed amused. "You got lost and starved?".
"That's not funny", I grumbled.
"No, it isn't", Deena resumed in my defense. "I had a rabbit when I was a kid. Dumas called it the unbirthday, from one of the books he used to read to me. Since we didn't know my birth date, once a year on a different day he would give me something. One day he came up with a bunny, small and dark. I have no idea where he got it from but it was an extremely simple and inexpensive animal to care for. I fell in love with it right away.
Matt assumed a caricatured expression of false displeasure. "I wonder why I'm figuring out the ending".
"I was a child, there's little to joke about you know? He killed it but I cooked it. We divided it into seven, it was almost useless to eat the poor thing", she said irritated at not being taken seriously.
"Is it possible that in a big city like this you don't...", Matt tried to ask.
"Stealing is almost impossible and attracts attention", Deena anticipated him. "We've been waiting for funds from supporters of the orphanage. Staying hidden is the key to survive as illegals, even if it means starving to death".
"So, is it a matter of principle or...?", Matt continued, not taking her seriously. For some reason, that bothered me.
"The taste and especially the smell stuck with me. I... get nauseous just looking at it", she confessed.
"Don't misunderstand, he didn't mean to scold you!", I intervened seeing the upset expression assumed by the girl after hearing my partner's sentence. "Matt is a real cheapskate, don't mind him. Then I propose a trade: you give me your beef corpse and I give you my side dish".
"Why not?", agreed the girl smiling, hungry as she was.
"Aren’t they cute", Matt said to himself, perhaps a little envious. When I finished eating, I took my leave from the rest of the group and went to my room, leaving them alone. I was exhausted.
The evening continued quietly until they decided to go to bed. Matt was pleased to have had the opportunity to get to know Deena a little better, but he didn't feel like he had been very successful. I took advantage of the solitude in my room to treat myself to a second long shower and to finally lie down in my very expensive bed.
Growing up inside a barracks had pushed me to always seek comfort whenever possible. I thought that in Deena's eyes I certainly looked like a snob. She couldn't possibly know that that was like a vacation to me. I had spent the last three and a half months in the mud sleeping in tents for weeks on end to get through a particularly tough phase of our training.
A slight disturbance of the mattress was enough to wake me up, my sleep was so light.
Deena had returned late from chatting with Matt and was now lying next to me in the spacious king size. I didn't have time to feel embarrassed, it was simply spontaneous for me to sit up and get out of bed to let her have the bed.
"I apologize", I said in a sleepy voice. "I'm going to the couch". I got up stunned by the awakening and looked in the dark for the sofa that the hotel had placed in a corner of the suite in theory to watch the view.
One hand grabbed me after several attempts managing to catch my panties, stopping me from going any further.
"Don't be stupid", Deena's voice said. "It's your room, your bed. I'll take the couch if you're embarrassed".
"I'm too sleepy to be embarrassed", I yawned. "But don't worry, I don't want to put your decency at risk."
Deena laughed. "My decency? I'm a lady now?".
"It's a matter of respect, I don't...".
Deena let go of her grip and walked away going to the outermost and furthest area of the mattress where I was sleeping. "Don't worry Daith. I'm more than sure you have no intention of doing anything bad to me. Come sleep".
I accepted the invitation; I didn't feel like curling up uncomfortably elsewhere. "How come you trust me now?".
Deena hesitated before answering. "I've met enough filthy pigs in my life to know you're not one of them".
"Because I didn't put my hands on you?".
"No. There are plenty of cowardly pigs who wouldn't do that just out of fear. You're not a coward".
"Oh. Thank you", I said closing my eyes trying to sleep again.
I heard Deena chuckle to herself. "He's like a baby", she said thinking out loud. I was a little annoyed but the sleep was just too much. "So that's our deal? You'll give me papers if I’m your bait?".
"Hmm", I did sleepily.
"They'll cost a lot".
"I'm just investing", I yawned. "If I get out of the academy as a captain, I'll get them back with interest".
"Sure", she said hugging herself between the covers. "Daith".
"Yeah?".
"Are you really as crazy obsessed with your job as your friend says?".
"Hmm...", I mumbled, hesitating to answer. "I have to... redeem the family name. From a big mistake made by someone I loved. At any cost".
"Oh", she quipped as if relieved. "Of course... I was sure... there was something", she yawned.
I asked my SAI to wake me up in a couple of hours. I slept peacefully, then woke up and silently went to get dressed and sat down in the leather chair, facing the front door. Even though it was practically impossible, I was hoping for their arrival at any moment.
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Between one yawn and another, the hotel dining room was beginning to fill up with guests for breakfast, some still in their pajamas. We sat down at our usual table: Matt wore slacks and a black T-shirt all wrinkled up, while I struggled to be as clean, tidy and unnecessarily equipped as usual. I had worn my full uniform, including the duster.
"Look, it's not like you have to shoot the croissants before you eat them. They're already dead", Matt joked, staring at me.
"And they call this place a luxury one? I ordered some eggs and ham, can you believe they don't have any bacon? By the way, this is how you present yourself? Look at me. As your superior, I have a duty to set an example".
"They're all staring at us, superior".
"Shut up".
"I was hoping to find you relaxed this morning", Matt chuckled. "Did you sleep together?".
"Does that make you excited?", I asked annoyed.
"Oh! Nice one Little D!", he exclaimed.
"Asshole. We just slept, Gods, I didn't bring her here to fuck!", I disappointed him.
"Then what are you planning to do tomorrow?".
His question sounded especially serious. "Why, what's tomorrow?".
"Didn't your DNI start up yet this morning? Tomorrow it's redeployment! What are you going to do with Deena? Are you going to take her to the police?".
"I can't", I replied. "I was hoping to get this over with quickly and instead...".
"Instead, it's bullshit Little D," Matt said worriedly. "Obviously the idea of missing the redeployment didn't occur to you at all, did it?".
A game was still a game and that adventure couldn't have gone on forever. Not without consequences. "I can't leave her alone and I made a deal. Besides, with the police she'd end up deported and wouldn't be safe anyway. If she sticks her nose out of Terra she's screwed."
"So?".
"How so?".
"Come on, yes she's nice and very pretty but what exactly do you think you can do for her? She's a stranger, you don't owe her anything and it's none of our business. Those guys probably received similar training to us! Two ill-equipped and half-trained cadets according to you, how much hope do they have against them, you tell me?", pondered Matt, as always on the side of common sense. "Let's start rambling, there are battalions of FMP in the city and it's them and not us that have to...".
"Hi guys, what are you talking about?", interrupted Deena, whose approach had gone unnoticed. She had put on that ugly red shirt of hers again.
"About Matt's ex-girlfriend. Sit down, come on!", I lied, trying to keep her out of our worries. Matt looked at me crookedly. "You didn't run away then".
"I'm protecting my investment", she said mimicking my words and squaring me puzzled. "Look it's not like you have to shoot les croissants to eat them, you know," Deena said laughing.
"Yeah, I've already been told that", I replied frostily throwing a dirty look at Matt.
The waiter carried the breakfast to his usual small wheeled table and left to serve the other tables, causing Deena's nose to plug at the smell of crispy bacon. The quiet in the room, however, was suddenly interrupted by a gunshot coming from the kitchens. Out of the porthole door that separated the room from the dining room came three well-known characters who were apparently very annoyed.
"Someone woke up on the wrong foot", I laughed suddenly pleased.
"They're here?", exclaimed Matt incredulously.
"Not only are they here but they're here with guns blazing", I noted inexplicably satisfied.
"You wanted them to come here?", asked Deena incredulously. "Really?".
"Wasn't it obvious?"
"But it's full of people!".
"Don't move a muscle", I urged the other two. "I thought it was impossible since without an AI you're untraceable. I wonder how they did it".
"They're there, boss!", exclaimed the one known as Asif upon seeing us at the table.
"Well, good morning children, how are the croissants?", the chief ironized with a satisfied air.
"Too much fat", Matt replied, taking a sip of coffee while simulating indifference.
"Yeah", I added, "and the coffee? What a lousy slop".
The leader with blond hair and icy stare came up to us, took a chair from a table and dragging it noisily came to sit with us, holding it upside down and resting his elbows on the back.
"So, you are cadets", he commented as he calmly observed my uniform. His gaze landed on Deena who made a disgusted face. "Playing games. That right there is my prey. I don't want to kill two kids over this, okay? Why don't you just put your guns on the table, get up slowly, and walk away while we take her with us".
I took a sip of coffee, grabbed some cold milk from a jug on the table, stretched it out and tasted it a second time.
"Ah", I exhaled contentedly. "Here's the secret. Excuse me? I heard something about laying down my weapons".
"Maybe you're missing the point little brat", he resumed irritated. "I'm not dealing with you. I'm just avoiding killing two cadets. By choice. Because if I take her, nobody gives a shit, got it? But if I kill a cadet, the FMP starts looking for me. This is business and killing is bad for my business. Don't play with these lives kid, you're too young to get your conscience dirty".
"Too bad, merc", I said lowering my cup, "that I love playing with lives". I threw the boiling contents into the merc's face and tipped the table towards him. It was made of sturdy wood, so it didn't stand much of a chance against ballistic hits but lasers would grind them down a bit. Deena was dragged behind by Matt and I drew my pistols. I fired a couple of shots from the top edge of the table downward, hoping to hit their leader. He was quick to roll away and I only hit the floor.
A few gunshots exploded at us, immediately piercing the table and hitting Matt with a glancing blow, causing him to scream.
I responded by leaning to one side forcing them to take cover. "Freeze!", their leader yelled. "Don't hit the girl!".
"Oh, really?", I commented out loud understanding the situation better.
Matt cursed in pain, then turned to Deena. "You lied! Why they want you so bad?".
"I swear I don't know!", she yelled trying to overpower the shots I was firing.
"They're lame", I protested. "They don't amuse me at all".
"What do you mean?", she asked incredulously. "T'est folle!".
"Forgive me Deena, I'm about to break the stalemate", I said. I grabbed her around the waist, hid behind her and stepped out of the shelter shielding myself. Deena couldn't believe it. What do you think baby, she must have wondered whose hostage she was.
"Daith are you crazy?", yelled Matt.
"Behind me!", I urged him and he obeyed.
The merc leader watched the scene stunned. "What do you think you're getting kid?", he laughed.
I didn't answer except with a blow directed at him. His men made to react but could not open fire. As they leaned out, I fired a couple of shots at them, forcing them to take cover.
Now the standoff was no longer static and I could move. "Matt," I called out to him. "I need you to guide me. Guide my steps vocally while I hold them at gunpoint."
"The stairs, right?", he asked to confirm. We were going to walk down.
"Yes", I confirmed. "Deena you just make sure you stay calm and don't pass out! It's all up to you".
Deena was shaking and her breathing was starting to get tight.
"Deena", I whispered hoping to calm her down. "You're hyperventilating. Breathe slowly. Inhale count to three and exhale. You need to calm down, if you pass out we're done",
She was strong and listened to me. "I breathe in", she said, "and I breathe out. I breathe in".
"Good girl," I praised her. "They won't shoot you, they won't. Your life is worth a lot of money not your corpse".
Meanwhile Matt was whispering over and over the direction I needed to go. Eventually we arrived at the back stairs. Matt opened the door and we entered the stairwell. A shot from the ramp leading down hit Matt hard, knocking him backwards.
I immediately reacted, firing a shot that smashed the face of the mercenary responsible and sent him tumbling down several meters.
Deena had a breakdown but recovered after a few seconds. "Keep the door closed!", I ordered her and so she did. "Matt!", I called to him. "Matt you stupid idiot!"
He groaned, holding his left shoulder. "Fuck! Same side as before!", he yelled in pain. I looked at the entry point and noticed that there was a much larger exit point.
"It's not lethal", I reassured him. "But you're losing a lot of blood!".
"I'll be unconscious soon", he said rationally. "I can't keep up with you".
"I'm going to have to load you on my shoulders", I concluded and made to lift him off the ground.
"No!", he stopped me. "They don't care about me and killing me would make things worse for them. I'll keep the door locked as long as I can. I've already called the police and an ambulance with my SAI. Get her out of here before the FMP gets here".
"Where the fuck do I take her?", I exclaimed running out of solutions. I had hoped to lock her up there at Jaurès. "It's late now, I'll wait here and give her up to the cops".
"No! Please you promised!", she cried. Matt was hurt. The girl was in tears, gripped by the terror of being arrested and deported. My game had involved two lives far beyond my imagination.
Matt stood up and went to take Deena's seat. The panic fire door was easily locked by holding up a handle on our side. We could hear banging loudly on the other side.
"You know old Dutronc lives in Paris, right? We should have gone to see him", Matt suggested, looking pale.
"That's right", I recalled, "I could look him up with my AI...".
"You've screwed up, but disappointing a pretty girl isn't among your faults yet".
"Abandoning you here would be!".
"Whether you're here or not makes no difference to me! You suck at first aid. I've seen your grades!", he insisted. "You're going to end up in front of the dean by now anyway, at least try to get to third base! Good luck", Matt sighed. "See ya, Little D".
"It wasn't supposed to be like this", I regretted.
"I'd gladly trade places, believe me", he laughed.
"Matt it's my fault", Deena sobbed. "I'm sorry!".
"No, it's not at all", he reassured her. "Just make it worth it, okay? Not just some stupid game".
"Okay", I promised. "Come on Deena".
We left Matt to his fate and started running down the stairs, jumping over the mercenary's corpse and making big leaps between flights. The girl could move better than I could.
The descent was terribly exhausting and the alternation of floors all the same made me lose my sense of direction. How much further was it? Where would they be waiting for us? The second answer came when at a certain point a panic door one floor below us opened. The guy with the ponytail entered the stairwell, checked first below and then above, seeing us. I fired a shot at him, missing him. I heard a "I'm here" shout.
"Get back, get up here!", I said to Deena.
"I hear noises from upstairs!", she warned me.
I looked around and decided to leave the staircase by going through a door to see what the floor we were on would hold.
We found ourselves inside some offices, where employees confused by the events around them lingered in groups probably wondering what to do.
"Everyone on the floor, come on!", I ordered them. "Armed criminals are coming, get on the ground!".
If nothing else, the cadet uniform helped them understand that I was the good guy in that situation, even if I felt totally stupid at the time. I had started that hunt for fun and now Matt was bleeding out on top of us. I had to get those bastards out of there as soon as possible so the rescuers could get to him as soon as possible.
From our own door came the mercs announced by some screams of terror. I was forced to play the same game as before, shielding myself with Deena.
Without Matt to direct me, I soon found myself slamming my ass against the wall of windows overlooking the void beyond the skyscraper. The mercs arranged themselves in formation, increasing their chances of hitting me without hurting Deena. I was trapped, sooner or later someone was going to risk the shot.
"Do you hear them kid? It's your friends' sirens", the leader said panting all sweaty. "You made us do this! Leave her or we'll play for it".
Gambling for everything was my option, too. How high up was I? How fast were they? How many rounds did I still have in my magazines? The adrenaline and fear began to fuel a deep sense of anger in me. An ancestral rage that when it had a clear field only left me wanting to kill.
I had no idea what year that building was. If it was old enough, the windows would have been made of glass and not of transparent aluminum. I pointed the barrel of the gun at the glass window behind me and quickly fired every shot I had. I hugged Deena with both hands and pushed my back against the cracked glass with all my might, causing it to give way and letting me fall below.
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I had done it. The effort of unleashing my little gift so suddenly and violently had put me one step away from death, yet it was an easy choice between probable and certain death.
If you had been among the passersby gathered under the tower and looking up at the cloudy sky, you would have seen two figures clinging to each other suddenly plummeting some thirty meters toward you. The larger of the two, holding up the other, would have managed to land on its legs like a cat. Eventually, that creature with the whitest of eyes and swollen muscles would run up to a manhole, lift it like the lid of a pot and then dive in, closing the entrance with the same steel disc.
"Daith, wake up! Come on, wake up! Oh gods! Daith please!".
Deena was hunched over me in a dark, smelly wet place; I was unconscious and panting violently. All of a sudden, I finally managed to open my very white eyes wide and began to writhe and scream, drooling from my mouth. The girl, now in panic, felt my pulse to feel the beat: the blood in the veins was pumped by the heart at an impressive speed, at a dizzying pace, but it was slowing down. After a while, however, I was able to calm down and stopped fidgeting.
"What happened to your eyes? Daith", the girl screamed.
I let out a muffled groan. My wide eyes began to turn gray again and my pulse throbbed more and more regularly. I was breathing normally now, though I was always breathless.
"What's wrong with you? Daith!".
"Shut the fuck up!", I yelled in exasperation. I got up off the ground and sat down, still panting.
"Daith, what's wrong?".
"Don't ask me anything!", I shushed her. "Just know that I'm fine!".
"But you were panting, squirming, your pulse was racing".
"Shut up! Shut up!", I yelled furiously. Anger was still in command at that moment, I could have torn her apart for one wrong word.
The poor girl who had been sitting next to me instinctively recoiled after the scream, frightened by those strange reactions. I breathed again and again until I was finally able to draw slow deep breaths. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice like that. I'm really sorry, believe me", I said in the kindest tone I knew.
Deena looked up and looked intently into my face, "What happened to you a moment ago? How did you... do those things? We were up high but you...".
"Enough", I interjected patiently. "We need to get out of here before they find us again. How long were we here?".
"Maybe fifteen minutes," she replied still frightened of me.
I sniffed the air, then let out a groan of disgust. "We're in the sewers! Way to go Daith, good thinking".
"Where will we go?", she asked despondently. It was dark down there, just a few courtesy lights illuminated the maintenance docks.
"Aren't there piles of skeletons and other strange things down here?", I asked.
"I don't remember but the catacombs you're talking about shouldn't be here. The sewers of Paris are a maze", she explained.
"I’m getting some signal from Starlink. My SAI will show us a path," I said checking my guns as I waited for the route to be ready. I had run out of ammo on one, so while waiting for a direction I split the contents of the magazine between both. "Shit, Carter's calling me", I huffed declining the call.
"Do you think Matt made it?", she asked. I was seized with genuine anxiety. He had warned me several times not to play with fire and he was the one who got burned. I felt guilty as hell. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…", she said, sensing perfectly how I felt. "I'm sure he's fine".
"Of course he's fine!", I said flaunting confidence. "He's a guy from Seattle. He's not going to die from two little scratches". Actually, those little scratches could have bled him out pretty quickly. He could have been dead by then. I tried to send him a message via the net but his symbiote didn't answer. I felt terribly anxious. Deena reached over and put her hand on my forearm, squeezing it lightly. "He's fine", she whispered softly.
My SAI did its thing, pointing the way. "We'll follow his suggestion", I said, shirking the touch. "We have a friend in Paris. A former officer who lives here. He's retired and drives a tourist barge".
"Really?", asked Deena.
"Yeah", I confirmed. "You wouldn't believe what kind of jibes old soldiers engage in just to kill time".
"With a life like that", she reflected, "who knows what can give you a meaning when you get back among normal people".
"I trust him", I said. "Besides, he's always had some... vices. He's not the kind of man to overlap legality and morality. Your condition shouldn't cause him remorse".
"Vices?", she asked suspiciously. "He will not be a pig I hope!"
Beauty for Deena must often have been quite a problem. I quickly reassured her. "No, not those kinds of vices. Let's just say he hates to see stuff go to waste. If he finds something he can resell and whose theft doesn't harm anyone, he takes it. On duty he often smuggled enemy military equipment for resale, things like that".
"Then let's move, my nose is burning", she complained holding it with her fingers.
"This way", I pointed toward the darkness.
We walked toward, marching circumspectly through the fetid sewers of Paris. The place wasn't exactly the best: the whole way there we were forced to walk with our heads down to avoid hitting the ceiling. On more than one occasion we were in danger of falling into the drain. I fell in with one foot and Deena, in an attempt to dodge a passing rat, fell in with both legs, soaking her shirt as well. Luckily, I was ready to take her by the arm, avoiding her a swim in that fetid and repulsive water.
"To the left, ten meters and we are out of this dunghill", I announced triumphantly.
We walked that last stretch side by side and finally emerged from the sewer through a circular pipe three meters in diameter, which discharged a trickle of stinking water into the river. The grate had been removed and thrown in next door, perhaps by homeless people seeking shelter.
"Take a good look at the sky, brat, because it's probably the last time you'll ever see it!", grunted a voice near the gun pointed at my temple.
"Bite!", cursed the girl now exasperated by the exhausting situation. "Again!".
'That's not possible', I thought. 'She doesn't have an AI, mine is level 5 there's no way they can track me. Not to mention barely passing a GPS signal down there... unless...'. "Deena, feel your clothes and hair closely. You need to look for a button-like object, or a pin, attached somewhere".
The girl obeyed suspiciously and inside a pocket she found a small object similar to a watch battery.
"Qu'est-ce que c'est?", she asked in amazement.
"Cool, isn't it? I put it in your pocket when you were on our car", said the crook with an amused air.
'A tracker', I grumbled. 'What an idiot, why didn't I think of that?'.
"I didn't notice, I never use the back pockets", Deena tried to justify herself by throwing the bug into the water.
"It was nice to slip it in", laughed the man.
"You're on your own", I noted. "Aren't your friends coming to give you a hand?".
"I'll be enough for you", he said dismissively, arming his gun. "You're going to die in a filthy sewer for playing a movie hero, you prick".
"Don’t!", she cut in. "Here I am, I'm coming with you, here I am!".
"After everyone he's killed, you think I'm going to leave him be? No, no, pretty, Mr. Contura will avenge them now and then enjoy his money. Two less murderous cadets is good for the world".
"Two?", I asked nailing my gaze fixed on him.
"You killed him?", cried Deena with tears in her eyes.
"Bullet-riddled. He went down like he was made of lead", the mercenary said cynically, laughing.
"You fucking bastard!", I screamed. I couldn't take it anymore.
Anger overcame reason submitting me under its influence. My limbs began to swell. With a quick jerk I grabbed the barrel of the gun pointed at my temple and tried to direct it towards the ground. Contura managed to shoot before I was completely out of range and hit me square in the right leg. The shot doubled my fury. I pounced on his throat with my hands and as if they had been a vice, I used them to strangle that jailbird, who was struggling in vain in an attempt to save his life. But I continued to strangle, possessed by anger, indifferent to the moans of the enemy. I didn't understand anything anymore: I didn't see with my eyes and I didn't think with my head, I didn't feel the pain of the wound I had just received.
"Enough now, stop it!", sobbed a familiar voice. I couldn't focus on the situation; I didn't understand who was speaking to me. "Stop, please", repeated the same voice.
A spark of reason snapped in my mind prey to the darkness of hatred. I woke up as one wakes up from a nightmare and my gaze fell on the face of the man in my hands. By now he was dead, but I let him fall to the ground perhaps just in time, unconscious. I turned around and saw Deena's green eyes wet with tears. I looked again at the man I had just attacked, then I took Deena by the hand. I returned to my normal state almost instantly.
"W-We need to get out of here, quick!", I yelled still shaken.
I dragged Deena to a dock where the old barge of a trusted friend was moored. The captain, who certainly wasn't expecting me to improvise, was preparing to lower the usual rusty mechanical gangway, but only a couple of passengers got off. Business was not going well for him. The man, now in his sixties, was still sturdy and tall, dressed in a shirt with thin vertical blue and white stripes and comfortable midnight blue pants. His face was serene but stern, his eyes dark and his gray hair still thick and firmly attached over a square face darkened by a two-day beard.
"Damien, start the engine!", I yelled at him at the top of my voice.
"Monsieur Daith, what a pleasure to see you again!", exclaimed the captain of the barge.
"Spare me the charade, move!".
"Why all this hurry?", asked Damien in amazement.
"Move! Quick!", I shouted hopping crippled from the dock to the barge, followed by Deena who with her agility had no problem keeping up with me. As the charge provided by my little gift diminished, the pain in my leg pierced by the bullet became more and more intense. The muscles were torn and a lot of blood was gushing from the wound, particularly from the exit wound. I had little time left.
"And is this pretty young lady coming with us?", asked the captain of the boat referring to Deena and smiling at him.
"Please leave now", I whispered before plummeting face first to the ground.
The man looked down at me, twisting his mouth and dwelling on the bloodstain I was leaving on the deck. "Une autre fois?", he commented putty-faced.
"Que voulez-vous dire?", asked Deena trying to hold me up, amazed at that cold-bloodedness.
"O Gods, if he insisted so there had to be a reason. D'accord, let's set sail at once", said the captain and started lazily to the helm. As the girl leaned towards me she couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't really been paying attention to my condition. With a roar, the old hydrogen engine started up and began to turn the propellers that pushed the flat-bottomed boat along the river, this time following the current.
Deena meanwhile had to drag me to the edge of the boat and lay me on my back on the railing, because that's how I came to, noticing the trail of red I had left. I was bleeding from the wound and breathing hard. Deena was about to unbuckle the belt that fastened my raincoat, when with my last strength I stopped her.
"Stop, leave me alone, I'll manage here", I whispered with difficulty, "you take care of hiding below deck".
"Don't talk like that, you can't even stand up! What would you like to do, in this state? Let me patch your wound", she contradicted me. "I know something, I need to put a tourniquet on it to stop the blood!".
"I don't need a nurse, I need you to hide right now! Get lost!".
Our bickering was soon interrupted by a strong wind and a deafening noise coming from behind the barge. The captain quickly turned around. "Rien ne va plus, les jeux sont faits!" he exclaimed in utmost amazement.
The menacing shadow of the gigantic spaceship overshadowed the barge and its three frightened passengers. All symbols and identification numbers had been erased from the ship's hull, except for the name, written in large letters on one wing, both above and below it. It had a tapered shape and two large wings that started at bow height. There was no sign of portholes or openings of any kind.
'Navajo', read the girl in a low voice.
"It must be a nightmare", I thought, overwhelmed by such enemy superiority. Never would I have anticipated such a thing at the beginning of that business.
"Daith are these friends of yours?!", asked Damien with improbable calm.
"Can't you tell?!", I joked straining to scream to overpower the din.
"You were being an asshole one more time, n'est pas?!".
"Can we talk about this later?".
"How do I send that thing away now, huh? How?!".
"I fucking know you Damien! You'll have a fucking rocket launcher to sell back in the hold or something!".
"Ten rocket launchers wouldn't be enough against that beauty!", he noted. "But maybe a little bluff might convince them to at least back off a little!".
"A bluff?", I asked.
Deena, though conscience tried hard to restrain her, listened to my words and threw herself inside a metal hatch, placed in the middle of the wooden flooring of the barge, which led below deck. Pained by the gunshot wound that lacerated my leg, tired and half bled, I got up from the floor and staggering I headed for the helm reaching my friend.
"I have an old collectible remnant. It's functional", he smiled.
"Which is?".
Damien left the helm and went below deck after leaving me with a hopeful acronym.
A few warning bangs grazed the small craft, followed by a voice from the shuttle instructing us to stop and go ashore. I smiled, standing up and motionless in front of the ship, while a curious hissing sound that quickly grew in intensity began to dominate over the repetitive noise of the barge's engines. Damien opened a hatch on the bridge, revealing a strange contraption, consisting essentially of a metal pole with a large dish resting on a cylindrical control unit with a small control panel on one side. I grabbed the PTT that Damien used to talk on the megaphone when he was walking tourists and started explaining the situation to those bastards.
"This is a 2198 EMPB, loaded and ready to go. Retreat immediately, or I will dump it on your ship's electrical circuits. This is my only warning, we have nothing to lose", I said threateningly through the megaphone.
In the meantime, all around the ship, a large flock of police aircraft began to gather, continuing to send intimidating messages to the crew. A cloud of steam blurred the vision of all those around the shuttle, which with a loud noise began to rise, slowly at first and then faster and faster until it disappeared completely. The police planes chased it as far as they could and then returned to their headquarters, without even thinking of a connection with the barge and its passengers. As soon as the enemy ship had moved away, I lowered my head in satisfaction, only to fall backwards unconscious. The last thing I remember was the impact with two tiny arms, ready unbeknownst to me to hold me up.
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