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Authors: RS McCoy

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BOOK: The Killing Jar
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MABLE

CPI-RQ2-06

AUGUST 12, 2232

 

Mable returned to her room with quick, uneven breaths. Dasia was getting the hang of her movements faster than Mable would have expected. She’d actually had to work to dodge her blows. It had been a good workout for both of them.

She cued up her tablet and turned on the shower, letting the cool water dance across her fingertips. Once clean, she set to read through the case files in earnest. Clearly designed by a Scholar, the reports were lifeless lists of data and intel. The photos were all the standard style of the Scholar Academy or some Craftsman facility.

After the first fifty or so, the reports were more or less the same. She learned to look for the differences, mostly in the hosts. What did they have in common? Why were they infected when not those around them?

There was a seemingly random distribution of bug infections. She knew it only seemed random because she didn’t understand the pattern yet, but so far, it eluded her.

Of all the information Arrenstein had sent her, the extraction vids were by far the most interesting, and disturbing. Alive and in motion, the bugs were beautiful and horrible all at once. The Echo shimmered an iridescent green and teal as it was ripped from the throat of the host.

She wondered if her fellow recruits were cut out for the job. Certainly the Osips of the world wouldn’t be given clearance for such high-stakes assignments.

There was one person in particular she knew didn’t belong. So she went to see Arrenstein.

She rasped her knuckles against the door.

“He’s in a meeting, what can I help you with?”

Mable turned to see Nick, smug as usual. His eyes floated the length of her body. He took a long look at the mint green pants that hugged her legs and the loose white top that hung over her shoulders.

A chill ran up her arms.

“Nothing, I want to talk to Arrenstein.” She knocked again and turned away from him. While she loathed Arrenstein, at least she knew what to expect from him. She wanted nothing to do with his stooge.

“I told you, he’s in a meeting. For someone who hates him, you spend a lot of time with the guy.” Nick skulked off to whatever hole he crawled out from, leaving Mable to question what the hell he was trying to insinuate. And how did he know she hated him?

Then the door opened.

“Maggie.” Arrenstein sighed as she pushed in. At least he liked their little chats as much as she did.

“Dasia doesn’t belong here. You need to send her home.” Mable flopped onto the couch and pulled her legs up under her.

“Oh, you think you know these kids better than I do?” Arrenstein walked to his little bar and poured himself a drink. “Want one?”

Mable didn’t know what the drink was but if a snob like Arrenstein drank it, then it couldn’t be half bad. She eyed his glass and replied, “With ice. And yes, I do. She’s completely consumed with the death of her friend. You pounced on her like a predator. Shame on you.” Mable crossed her arms for effect.

“Did she happen to mention how her friend died?” Arrenstein handed her the glass of ice and honey-colored liquid.

“No, but it shouldn’t matter. She—”

“She watched him die. They were both so down on anth, neither of them noticed they’d been breathing haze for hours. Even in the hills of Montana, the haze is thick at night.”

“She was on anth?” Mable found it hard to believe someone as harmless as Dasia had the gall to do drugs. Then again, people were never ever as simple as they appeared. It was kind of sexy.

“A massive dose,” Arrenstein continued. “They’d both been on it for years. She had a stash in her room, in her pockets, in her system, not to mention a dead boyfriend they found in a field. If she hadn’t gone to cleaning when she first arrived, the withdrawal would have killed her.”

Mable took her first sip of the drink and lavished the heat sliding down her throat. It hurt, it was like fire, but in all the best ways.

Arrenstein laughed at her breathing a long, hot breath out her mouth. “Take it slow.”

“Wow, what is this?”

“Brandy. 2010’s. Very rare.” He said it with pride. Mable wondered how long he’d been saving it, and why he decided to share it with her.

Arrenstein sat on the far end of the couch and sipped his drink. “I get what you’re saying. She’s a good person, she’s got a good, kind heart, and she would be happier doing a thousand other things. But the reality is that she ruined her life. Outside of CPI, she’s an addict that contributed to the death of her fiancé. There’s nothing for her to go back to.” He took a long pull from his glass. His eyes closed as he savored the taste.

“What about the others?”

He thought for a moment and answered, “They all had similar situations. Wrong place, wrong time.”

“Like what?” He couldn’t say that and then not tell her.

“I’m not really at liberty to discuss—”

“Don’t be such a worm. What did they do?”

Arrenstein sighed and swirled the ice around his glass. “Georgie was the oldest of a big family, five I think. He was just hungry, desperate to help them. We gave his family a small sum to help them in exchange for his service.”

“So you bought him.”

“Think of it how you like. We tried to help them.”

“What about the rest?” Mable sipped her drink.

“Osip was an unregistered from the underground. He got caught on the surface with no file. Jane’s mother was involved in a scandal right before her Selection. She failed to secure a mentor and was left on her own.”

“What kind of scandal?”

“The bad kind.”

“I love these little half-veiled statements of yours. They provide so much clarity.”

Arrenstein smirked. “I’m glad you like them.”

“You forgot Theo,” she reminded him.

“I didn’t forget.”

“What’s his story?” Her pulse increased. It was bad, she knew already. Arrenstein wouldn’t even look at her.

“He was involved in a pod accident.”

“Don’t those things have security protocols? I thought it was practically impossible to crash one.” Mable waited a good long while for Arrenstein to answer. When he did, it gave her chills.

“He turned off the protocols. Stole the pod and drove it outside the dome. He hit a boy.”

“Was he okay?” Mable felt the tears in her eyes clouding her vision.

Arrenstein only shook his head.

It hit her like a punch to the chest. She shot the rest of the brandy down her throat and sat in silence, refusing to spill tears in front of him.

“Do you have a preference for your position or partner?” he asked, for which she was thankful.

“Agent, Dasia as my handler.”

“Done.” His tone was nothing but final. They sat in comfortable silence for a while. Mable with her mind on the boy that had been killed, a child.

“When are you going to send me the rest of the files?”

Arrenstein’s eyes flashed with fear before he started the playing-dumb routine. “I don’t know what you mean. I sent you everything.”

“You said there were 114 cases, but you only sent me 110 case files. Where are the other four?”

“I sent you all—”

“Don’t lie to me. I hate liars.”

Arrenstein sighed his defeat. “They’re confidential. Use the ones you have. There’s nothing to be learned from the others.”

Mable knew there was something to learn from them. Why else keep them hidden?

“I want you to go talk to someone.”

“I don’t need a psych evaluation.” She wasn’t crazy and she wasn’t going to be a human pincushion for some Scholar looking to test a theory. Instead, she set the glass on the couch and headed for the door.

“No, not like that. I mean, she’s a Scholar, but she won’t talk to you about that. Her name is Ramona. She’s been here a very long time. I think you two could help each other.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said as she slipped out the door. She couldn’t be sure, but she could have sworn she heard him say ‘thank you’.

 

 

 

SILAS

CPI-AO-301, NEW YORK

AUGUST 12, 2232

 

A civil conversation with Maggie? Silas wasn’t sure such a thing would have been possible until it was. He sat on the couch in his office, a sad black leather thing from a time long gone. Sipping the remnants of his drink, Silas couldn’t help but smile, to breathe a little easier.

Her forgiveness was all he ever wanted, even more so once it was so clear he would never get it. Silas couldn’t change what happened to Alex, could never get him back. It was the greatest regret of his life.

He’d lost nine in total, but none so horribly as Alex. They’d been so close, a bug in hand, a live bug in a jar ready to be brought back for evaluation. Until it got out. Until it stole Alex from them.

Maybe something good would finally come of it.

Silas was trapped in the weird place between joy and pain when Nick pushed in. “How’d it go with Masry?”

He’d almost forgotten. “She wants us to send another team to LRF. That our current team isn’t being effective.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Let’s just pull recruits from thin air and send them to waste away on the moon.”

“She’s got a point. There have been four deaths since their arrival, and they’re only increasing in frequency. If we don’t nip it in the bud, we could end up with a major problem. We can only deter so much investigation.”

His assistant’s eyes went wide. “You’re actually considering sending another team up there?”

“Not anytime soon, but I’m not sure we can put it off for very long. Parr had the Yield, the first ever in LRF. That makes the third species in two years. What happens when someone gets a Slight?”

“That’s not all that surprising. Hundreds of Scholars ship to the moon every year. We’ve always said there should be screening process for anyone leaving Earth.”

Silas sighed. They’d tried, but there was no reasonable explanation for running tests on so many Scholars, colonists, even the Craftsmen that operated the long-range shuttles. Besides, even if they could come up with something, they didn’t have a test.

“You ready to go over the assignments?” Nick asked out of nowhere.

He must have gotten lost in his thoughts again. “Yeah, sure.”

Nick sat in the spot Maggie had so recently vacated. He pulled out the tablet and set the teams in motion on the holographic projection.

Silas already knew who he would place where. He needed no tablet, no spreadsheet. There was an aspect of this job that required reading people. He wondered if Nick understood that yet.

When he saw the three teams, he was confident that Nick had no idea what he was doing.

“I’d say, Jane and Georgie on an intel team.”

Silas nodded.

“Dasia and Osip on recon,” Nick continued.

“No. Dasia with Mable.” It was non-negotiable. He’d already given her his word, and he wasn’t about to go back on it now.

“That doesn’t make sense and you know it.”

“Mable requested her.”

Nick eyed the glass of ice on the cushion where Maggie left it. “And she gets what she wants because she asked nice and cocked her big blue eyes at you?”

Silas felt his temper flare like a wood stove in winter. “Watch yourself,” he warned.

“I get that you have some weird relationship with her, but she’s not our priority. We have to consider all of the recruits, not just one.” Nick was smart to backpedal. At least he knew when to try a new tactic.

Silas walked away to make himself another drink.

“I put her with Theo on a recon team. He had the highest scores, by a wide margin.”

“No, he’s reckless. He’ll get her killed.” Kaufman was the only person in the building that had directly contributed to someone’s death. Dasia may not have stopped her fiancé’s death, but Kaufman killed the boy. There was no way he would let him have any control over Maggie’s safety.

“She’s the reckless one. You know she’s the only one who didn’t take the tests?”

Silas couldn’t pretend to be surprised, but he knew Maggie’s behavior wasn’t reckless. She may operate outside the boundaries, but she could take care of herself.

Silas turned to face him. “Doesn’t matter if she didn’t take it. I know she’s the best of them.”

“Exactly.” Nick had the nerve to smile. “You have total confidence in her, and that’s enough to override my concerns. But I have total confidence in Theo, and that should override yours. Together, they make the best recon team we’ve had in a long time.”

Silas grumbled and sipped his brandy. “She’s not going to like it.”

“She’ll get used to the idea. He’s not a bad kid. At least we won’t have to worry about another Abby situation.”

“That’s different and you know it.”

Nick continued on, ignoring him. “Mable and Theo on recon, Jane and Georgie on the other.”

“Only if Mable and Georgie are the agents.” Jane would go all squeamish at the sight of a bug. There was no way she was capable of performing an extraction, at least not yet. And Mable wanted to be in the field. He could at least give her that.

“Agreed.”

Nick strutted from the office like a proud peacock.

Silas was going to have to talk to Masry about finding a new assistant. Nick was far too resistant to Silas’s leadership. Then again, now that he was with CPI, he was in it for life.

They all were.

 

BOOK: The Killing Jar
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