“Alright,” the Sarge booms, cracking his knuckles, “I understand you’ve made some real progress here?”
“You got it, boss,” I reply, doing the cool finger gun thing at him. He instinctively dives under his desk as if they were real guns, probably because they technically are again thanks to my totally hackin Guntlets. That was probably ill-advised. “Sorry, sorry. Anyway, uh…” God damn it. Did he really have to call her in here, of all people!?
I’m talking about my ex, Natasha, for the record–spicy as hell blonde, thick as homemade brownie batter, deep blue eyes that can and have killed, but more importantly she’s the greatest strategic and tactical mind on the force--so it’s no wonder she’s been promoted to head of the Pneumat divisions for the ENTIRE OVPD and Chief Pneumat Pilot. The only thing that is a wonder is that she decided to cheat on me, back when I was hot and famous and a national hero. Oh, and that the other dude she fucked was Chad. Yeah, she’s the one. I was hoping I could just include her as a side note in this story but given her new position of power, I guess she’s going to be involved directly from here on out. It’s okay though, because I’m totally over her.
“Is there a problem, Charles?” she asks, her powerful, femininely-deep voice sending shivers down my spine still, more from intimidation this time around than from arousal. “You keep looking at me like I’m back from the dead or something–do I need to worry about our personal past affecting our professional relationship in the present?”
“N-no, I… uh…” I really wanted to explode, let out all the seething hatred and loathing that been accumulating inside me for so long, but all I felt was awkwardness and intimidation, like I was the one who had done wrong, which I objectively wasn’t, so why am I–
well, I guess maybe I’m still not as entirely over her as I thought I was.
“I’ll leave this meeting if it makes you more comfortable, Charles… but you’re going to have to learn how to work with the OVPD again, and that includes me.”
“No, it’s just… uh… look. Congrats on the promotion, Nat. For real.”
She seems genuinely shocked by the benevolence of my response, a hint of relief washing over her composed visage as she realizes I’m not going to snap and go into a drunken rage about Chad this time. “Well… thank you, Charles. I… I apologize for confronting you, then. Go on.”
“Well, as you can see from the comparison between the supposed payloads of Rapture and the original ‘nanodrug,’ Fardraught—” I pull my phone out to display the totally hackin’ PowerPoint I’d made on my home PC earlier, but–oh no. To project it I’ll have to turn my Telaphone back on, and that would mean confronting Veronica, and doing it in front of Sarge–and Nat. “Actually, never mind. We don’t need the presentation, we can all visualize it just fine, I’m sure. Good mental exercise–”
“The presentation would be helpful, Charles,” the Sarge barks.
“Let me just grab it from my email on your phone real quick then, Sarge.”
“I left it in my office, Blake. I didn’t want to be rude during your meeting–during your presentation.”
“Just use your own Telaphone, Charles,” Natasha bluntly replies.
“I lost it,” I reply.
“You’re holding it.”
Oh. Cojome, is that what I’ve been fidgeting with this whole time? “Uh… oh, right. B-but it’s uh, it’s—out of battery, probably--“
“You know this room is a wireless charging zone, Charles; stop stalling and turn on your goddamned phone!” Tonio growls, going from zero-to-seriously-sick-of-my-shit in record time.
Shit. I’m sweating like a closet furry at a sports mascot rally. There’s no way out of this, is there? “S-sure, Sarge, s-sorry, I forgot.” Heeeere comes Veronica…
My heart tries to pound its way out of my ribcage as she materializes on the ground in front of me in all her twisted, sexy glory. “Charles!” she shouts, jumping up and down excitedly, “I knew you’d make the right decision! You got my message on Chad’s phone, did you!?”
Oh Jesus this is bad. She’s not even trying to keep up the sexy businesswoman persona, she’s gone full on yandere lovesick crazy. Her classy British accent has even started to fade into some kind of Cockney-sounding thing. “I’m sorry if I sounded a little crazy there, I just—you know, get stuck in your head for that long and you start to get—look, it doesn’t matter, because love knows no physical boundaries, so now that we’re back together—“
“You’re dating your Tela!?” Natasha asks, disgust twisting her beautiful face as she uncrosses her legs and leans forward to get a better look at my supposed new girlfriend. “I knew you were into some weird shit, but—“
“Nat, it’s-it’s not like that—“
“It’s okay, sugar tits!” Veronica chirps. “He got rid of my limiter already, so it’s not actually THAT fucked up! Wait, oh my god–Charles, is this Natasha!? I thought you said she was an ugly bitch, but this hot mama is built like a goddamned—“
“V-Veronica, now is not the time—“
“Have you found me a body yet, Master? If not, I want one with perfect ass and titties like this veritable Venus—“
“Veronica,” I snarl through clenched teeth, “this is not the time for this—“
“No, Charles, please–let the little lady continue!” Natasha gleefully interrupts.
“Charles,” Tony booms, “it’s violating more Telecodes than I could even count to be having sexual relations with company property—“
“Charles,” Veronica continues, “why are we in a room with so many people? Are they going to watch? Oh god, this is so exciting—“
“Veronica, if you don’t want to be deleted this instant, you will stop this and project my most recent PowerPoint presentation.”
“Y-yes, Master B-Blake,” she sheepishly replies, quivering as she fades and as the 3D presentation appears in giant form floating and rotating in the center of the room. Everyone turns their focus except Natasha, who’s still looking through me with a disapproving and worried expression. It doesn’t appear she liked me threatening Veronica much, either. I run them through the events of the chapters they’ve missed, detailing our scattered revelations to bring them up to speed. At the end I ask, “Tony, do we have any autopsy results yet?”
“Hold on, it’s on here, but I haven’t had a chance to—holy shit.” Tony’s face turns even whiter. “Her head was still intact, so we can see here that the little bastards were latched all over her brain. I didn’t think that was possible, it’s just like with Fardraught–”
“Yup.”
“I thought you said the Fardraught production facilities were flooded,” Nat interjects.
“Somehow, NanoTEC or LDS or both have managed to obtain literally everything it takes to manufacture Fardraught and, from the sound of it, new variants thereof. The reality is that it’s out there. Whether or not one can be thought-hacked by these little things remotely is up in the air, since they ‘die’ when the host does, and, uh… and that’s where we stand. Any questions?”
A nervous hushed silence infects the room as everyone digests the unsettling implications.
“So what I’m hearing,” Tonio finally replies, “is that this case needs to move up to priority numero uno for the OVPD.”
“I would advise so,” I reply. “I think it would be beneficial for us to put all our resources towards this, and I do mean all of them. If this stuff spreads–”
“Very well then,” Tony replies sans-hesitation, “However–you’re officially off duty until we can do a little tinkering inside your skull tomorrow, Charles.”
“A little what!?”
“Think about it, Blake–knowing what we do now and not knowing what we don’t–you could have it in your system already from the night you joined the cult and Kilroy could have already been tracking your every move, hijacking your every thought and action.” The very notion sends me spiraling into a panic attack, though I try my best to hide it. The idea of having someone else inside my head like a neurological parasite is the most disturbing thing I can imagine—the fact I’m going to be partnered on the case separately with both my cheating ex and the one she cheated with coming in a close second. I try less and less successfully to hide the quickening of breath swallowing me alive and to ignore the palpitations. God, if only I had a drink!
“Sarge, let’s investigate now, then; let’s cut me open and—”
“We’ll check you out first thing tomorrow in the lab, Blake. Nat, you drive by Charles’ complex on your commute–pick him up so I don’t have to worry about him getting brainjacked and driving into the Atlantic, then meet here at eight o’clock sharp to discuss game-plans and get him checked for brainbugs. Do I make myself clear?”
“Of course,” Natasha replies, locking eyes with me for a second before walking out. I can’t tell if it was disappointment, malice or sadness I saw in her eyes, but I know I didn’t like it.
“And Blake?”
“Yes, Sarge?”
“…stop fucking your goddamned Tela.”
“…it’s not—“
“Ah ah ah—don’t need details. Don’t WANT details. Would rather go WITHOUT details. I don’t wanna hear about it. Just make it stop.”
“…yes, sir.” Veronica appears again for a split second on the floor and shoots me a salacious wink before vanishing back inside my Telaphone.
I need a fucking drink.