People are resources… what?
“What kind of holier-than-thou bullshit are you spouting here?” I’m swearing, I’m angry, my voice is continually raising. But throughout it all, I can’t help but question myself.
I’m sure, if it came to it, I’m just like them. I’m just one of them, a killer. No. No, not a killer. Calling them a killer, a murderer, whatever I can think of, calling them something like that doesn’t sound right to me. But I haven’t a clue what the word should be. I do not understand these people.
I’m going to need time to understand them.
I don’t—
I don’t even understand myself, it seems.
Ah, man. This is going to be a problem.
Sykes sighs as he taps me on the shoulder.
“Listen, I know you’re angry. A lot of people will be, but they just don’t think about it. It’s hard, letting people die. I know it is. We all know it is, but the more you think on it, the worse it gets.”
He might be right.
He probably is right.
“Death is common in this world, you’ll come to know that soon enough. I’m sorry you had to witness all that, but… that’s all natural here.”
Is it really all that natural? I don’t know what to think here. A world where killing people is natural? Where letting them die is natural? Or is it just because of my line of work?
“This is… this is taking me a while to process. Will I really need to kill someone?”
I don’t know what I expect the answer to be. I hope it isn’t what I think it will be.
“Hopefully, you won’t. But the chances that it’ll come down to it aren’t particularly slim. I’m sorry, Joanna, but you will need to be prepared to kill someone eventually.” Sykes’ tone is grave, and I can grasp the sincerity of his apology from just the way he speaks. He knows I don’t want to kill anyone, but he knows I’ll have to. I know I’ll have to.
It’s only a matter of accepting that now.
“Listen, Joanna, we do not have time to waste. We need to get these back to Alfred, have him find someone who can examine them. Anchor, do you think Karen is up to that task?”
Anchor shrugs. “Beats me. Girl is a genius but she’s not always ready to work. Hey, she’s been damn vicious recently.”
Man, this jerk is insensitive.
“Hey, Anchor, for gods’ sake, can you be any less caring?”
“Nope.”
I want to slap him. I really, really, really want to slap him.
But Sykes is right. We do need to get this back to someone that can examine it. And who better than Karen anyway? She is the technology specialist; she must know something or other that could help with this. Is she a scientist too? I don’t know, come to think of it, but if Sykes would ask to see if she could help, I would assume she is; either that, or she has some knowledge that could at least help her get around in a scientific scenario or something.
So, the next port of call is waiting for an examination of the samples we have retrieved. Okay, that sounds quite calm. I don’t think it will be that calm, mind you, but it should be pretty calm.
For now, I should just focus on the next action.
“Shall we take these to Karen for now, then?” I ask, receiving a nod from Sykes and some sort of grunt from Anchor. Not that I expected much else from him, anyway.
With this unanimous decision, we set off, first to return to Sykes’ house. Or, that’s what I think we’re doing.
“Hey, are we going to get changed first?”
Sykes nods again, confirming my thoughts. Good, I don’t particularly like the outfit I’m wearing right now anyway. I much prefer the outfit I had before, it looks so much nicer.
I notice a few things on the journey back that I didn’t notice before; like the fact that all the houses on one street have the exact same white door, or on another street there is one family that STILL has their Christmas lights up.
It’s March twenty-third.
Christmas lights. On March twenty-third. Someone is really insane.
I’m in the middle of making a mental note of which houses are likely the best to avoid when Sykes starts to speak to me.
“… you at?”
I missed most of what he was saying, though. I was busy, pre-occupied with all of that. Damn.
“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” I ask, in the nicest, most polite way I possibly can. And yet I still get a sigh from Sykes. Sighkes. Oh, no, that was bad. That was a REALLY bad pun.
“Oh, you’re with us now. Never mind me, I was seeing if you were occupied or not, is all.”
Ah, I see. Well, that can’t have been any worse of a response to have given him, in that case. Considering he’s a telepath too, I guess thinking about it isn’t good.
[Not at all, young lady.]
Fuck. Okay. I’m done with this. Sykes, get the hell out of my mind, okay. Leave me be, damnit!
Of course, he nods. He won’t get out of my head, he’s probably having a field trip there.
I must safely say this has been a stressful day. Someone died, god. How bad could this day get? Hopefully it can’t get any worse? But saying that, it probably will. After all, I have to work with ANCHOR.
Sykes lets out a chuckle. Of course.
“Hey, come on, I’ve asked you, stay out of my head! It’s the only place I can be truly alone right now!” I protest, and he just laughs more.
By the time we get back to Sykes’ house and finish changing, I would put the time at around 5:30pm. The sun will set soon, and we still have to get back to the headquarters. Well, I suppose sunset won’t be for maybe half an hour, or more, but it isn’t far off. I guess we could do it, easy. I just need to give these clothes back to Sykes and wait for Ancho—
A small snapshot, two people talking, outside the door. The first voice confirmed to be Anchor and the second unmistakably Sykes’. And me, a young girl, caught up in a job she’d never expect to be in, in some… miraculous world. Or some messed up world, I don’t know.
People die everywhere, but I never expected to see death today. Not on my first day. And those voices, without faces attached… They’re the voices of murderers, right?
I should come off of this topic. It isn’t pretty, it’s tricky, I don’t know what to think. Mind on the mission, that’s how I need to be. But it’s hard, isn’t it? To keep my mind on the mission. It’s hard, it’s weird, I don’t know. I don’t like it. Having to keep hush about death, I don’t like it. Isn’t there paperwork to file for this stuff? Will I have to testify to this? I don’t know, and it’s just… scary, I guess. To think like this.
I’ll need to be careful what I say and do, anyway.
