Nestra woke up after sleeping fitfully. The light of dawn filtered through her windows, chasing away the fog of her mind. She felt tired but too nervous to go back to sleep. Too shaken. Pudding and Nut were dead. She’d killed Bard. Fuck, she’d toasted him for his birthday only a couple of months ago during a truce because it was important for the team. He’d betrayed her first. He’d betrayed all of them and she’d killed him for it. Hollowed out his chest. She remembered gore pouring through the massive bullet wound. She’d done that.
She’d killed the gleam. His skull had crumpled under her blade. It had been far too easy but he’d really underestimated her.
It had felt good to kill them. Not just because they’d tried to kill her and failed, but also physically. It had given her something. She was feeling better now than any morning in the past seven years. No cravings. Even the pain and lack of sleep couldn’t dull the relief and euphoria.
Deaths. Vengeance. Pain. No cravings. End of her career, also, she assumed.
Had to be honest, that was the one thing she’d been trying not to think about. Was it all a dream? She retreated to the bathroom, shut down the door, locked it. Darkness became almost complete. She couldn’t see her fingers but she could see the tiny green dot of her charging toothbrush, hear her panicked breath.
She pinched a symbolic point above her head and pulled. The Mask disappeared into the recess of… she didn’t know. She couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was not disappearing so much as… going somewhere else? Immediately, her pain abated. The dark of the bathroom became a black and white canvas, clear as day. Her vision sharpened. Her nose picked up the scent of soap, humidity, her favorite shampoo which she’d spilled last morning and not cleaned yet. She felt strong. She was also slightly taller, and naked.
Had to find out more.
“Let me rephrase. We look after our own within the limits imposed upon us by central.”
Nestra signed. She said goodbye to Fon on her way out.
“If you need help picking a new job, let me know!” the shorter woman told her. “I have compatibility tests, offers, the works. Just let me know and I’ll clear a slot for you. Don’t just disappear on us.”
Nestra walked back to her office. There was another message for her, from the chief.
“Palladian. Before you go, please go by the armory to retrieve your sword. Thank you.”
Right. The sword was her personal property. She even had a license for that. She grabbed her personal effects and put them in a cardboard box. There wasn’t much, merely a change of clothes and a couple of mementos. Nestra didn’t consider her office as anything personal, more like a shelter than a personal spot here. Her house was her haven.
In the main building, many officers whispered as she passed by. Some of them gave her nods of sympathy. Nobody seemed angry at her, or disappointed, which was nice. The quartermaster locked the door behind her when she came in. That instantly made her nervous.
“Officer Palladian. Here for your sword?”
“I need a favor from you. You see, I was given this nice little piece belonging to Gorge.”
He placed the revolver on the desk in front of him, shiny and clearly enchanted with mana stuff now that Nestra could look at it.
“The problem is that it’s a mana tool, one that can only be owned by someone with a special license. Like you, Nes. So, I am going to assume that Gorge merely omitted to tell me he got that license after all and I will release it into your custody so you can return it to him and if I get inspected, everything’s copacetic. You get me?”
“In return, let me give you your own stuff since it’s going to be destroyed anyway. You got a weapon safe at home, right?”
“Why yes, of course I do.”
“Excellent. I patched up your armor. You got your submachine gun and, let’s say, two boxes of rounds you used in training. Three spare magazines you lost yesterday. And your sword, of course.”
“Think nothing of it. Let me walk you to your car.”
Nestra set the autopilot to the hospital where Gorge was. It was a different one from Camus’, possibly because ravaged intestines were harder to fix than cracked ribs. She used the opportunity to call Officer Kim.
“Hello Officer Kim, this is Nestra Palladian.”
“Ah, excellent. I was expecting your call. Do you have time for lunch tomorrow?”
“See you there,” Kim said after rattling off the name of a restaurant, then she cut the call abruptly.
Nestra wondered what the rat squad wanted with her. The mooks had been clear they wanted her to shut up about Bard’s treachery but maybe that was not all there was to it. It was clear the TPD had been shafted badly in district 15, losing men, equipment, and face. She was sure they were itching for a comeback. Maybe there was a way to use official resources to go after the assholes who’d bought Bard. Maybe she could use both official and unofficial tools.
Nestra pulled into the hospital’s parking lot. It was an older one, she noticed, poorer too. There wasn’t a gleam in sight and her mana perception remained unequivocally inactive. She grabbed the revolver box and made her way to a cluttered reception room, joining a queue behind an old woman in a wheelchair and a panicked mother with a gaggle of stressed kids. Tense discussions filled the air along with the stench of sweat and cheap antiseptic. Somewhere to the side, someone was crying. Nestra hunched her shoulders. She didn't like hospitals. Only Aunt Claire came to visit.
“Yes?” the exhausted nurse asked.
“I am here to see Gorge, sorry, I mean. Aaron MacMillan?”
“Hm. Oh, yes, let me check.”
The nurse frowned. She had a pad rather than a visor. When she looked up, there was hesitation in her voice.
“Hm, Mr McMillan will only receive family at this time?”
“Could you let him know Nestra is here. I have something of his.”
“I, errr, I’m not supposed to…”
“Look,” Nestra replied. “we’re part of the same squad. I assume he wants our hierarchy off his back. Please just ask him? If he says no, I’ll leave. Promise.”
The nurse pulled on a visor while Nestra waited patiently.
“Sir? There is a Nestra here to see you. Yes. Yes. No, I would not use that term as it is quite rude. Yes, I’ll send her right away.”
“Room 576. Take the elevators on your right. And, uh, are you really friends?”
“He asked if you looked like a frigid bitch.”
“Then he's in a good mood. Thanks for the help.”
Nestra moved through the first floor. The hospital was clogged, with patient beds pushed against the wall. She decided to take the stairs when she realized how many people were waiting, some of them wearing patient gowns and dragging their own IV bags with them. The fifth floor was much calmer, which was a relief. She found 576 after a quick search. The hospital was big.
Gorge lounged in a large bed, his muscular arms grabbing an ancient pad.
“Holy shit Palladian, the fuck are you doing here?”
Nestra placed the case on a side table. Gorge’s room was a single, tight yet cozy with a large screen and two wide windows. Personal effects lay scattered over the room as if Gorge had been there for a week.
“Brought you back your iron on account of its illegality.”
“Covering for me? How nice. However, let me ask you something.”
“What happened to my men?”
Gorge’s face was raw. Raw and angry. She felt like walking through an alley only to find two groups of goons on either side and her in the middle. Gorge didn’t know what happened. He couldn’t. The coms were down when Nestra killed Bard.
“I know only you and Preach made it. I know you saved him. Now tell me how the others died.”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Fuck no I’m not going to like it, you cunt. Tell me anyway.”
“Off the record because the rats told me to shut up.”
“Start talking or I’ll use the revolver on you.”
So Nestra shared her tale, leaving nothing back. She thought Gorge might blow a fuse when the truth about Bard came out.
“That fucking disgusting son of cock-gobbling shitstain sow. Tell me you killed him.”
“Blew his chest off with Nuts’ sidearm.”
He breathed hard, his bald face was now in the boiled lobster shade of red.
“And the mooks told you to keep the betrayal to yourself?”
“Those motherless skunk tampons. What are you gonna do about it?”
Nestra hesitated. Gorge’s intense gaze made her ill-at-ease.
“I don’t know, okay? The fuck you want me to do, drive a demo truck into the Gidung arcology? I don’t know.”
“But you’ll try something?”
She didn’t even like Gorge.
“I will try something.”
“Ok. Then you keep the gun.”
“Shut the fuck up, okay? That’s my gun. You can keep it for now. I got no more use for it.”
“You’re leaving the force?”
Gorge sighed. Then he lifted his cover. Nestra gasped at the sight of a mess of bandage and the very obvious colostomy bag attached to it.
“I lost half of my damn guts. There isn’t going to be any running around in full gear for me. And before you ask, no I won’t get an aug. I can’t afford it. Not even with the nice bonus I got in the mail this morning.”
“You can ask for a loan?”
“Listen you bitch. If I do take the loan, I’ll be indebted for my whole fucking life unless I slave away for a chaebol and no way I’ll ever go corpo. If I don’t take the loan, I get insurance payment and my kids get to go to college loan-free.”
Gorge was so taken off guard, he actually calmed down.
“Divorced with two children. Why? Is that a problem?”
“Just can’t believe the same woman would let you fuck her twice.”