Читать книгу The Fallen Heroine - Fabienne Gschwind - Страница 20

Tartelette had made a huge to-do list of tasks for us to learn during the two days in a special clinic where her face had been reconstructed.

After the Auvergne mission, diving and fighting in very confined spaces had moved to the top of the list.

As a result, we spent the last few days sneaking around an abandoned and collapsed factory, chasing dummy repro. Although I thought it would make more sense in the future to just blow up the whole building. Of course, all of this training took place in between our regular missions. Emily and Gabin repeatedly complained about the heavy workload. After all, the usual work hours of eight to eighteen had been increased from eight-thirty to eight in the evening. In addition, there were tasks to do at home. But the commander did not let up. Two days ago she summoned Emily and Gabin to her office. What happened there I don't know, but after that both of them never complained about too much work again.

But unfortunately, in a corner of India, yet another repro-training facility had been blown up. And it seemed that there was more than just the one madman from Auvergne, maybe the terrorists were even organized worldwide!

Intelligence agencies worldwide were in the dark. They had no idea who it was or what the target was. It was also rumored that the Indian incident had nothing to do with the French one and that it was all just made up to collect funds for the Indian ReS.

No matter how you spun it, it seemed necessary that we now also had to familiarize ourselves with classic terrorist measures, such as booby traps or trained soldiers attacking us.

Today was diving training day and we practiced near Île de Ré by a sunken boat.

I suddenly saw one of those remote-controlled diving robots that Thibault unleashed on us as a fish-repro replacement.

I cocked my Harzapp, a combination harpoon and zapper that shot electrified arrows. The tip was connected to the harpoon so we could pull the fish in and then head it -- the best we had currently developed against repro fish. Unfortunately, epidemics of reprogrammed sea creatures had broken out all over the world. So sooner or later, we were going to have to deal with zombie fish.

"Okay people, exercise canceled! We have a mission waiting for you," Thibault spoke over the radio.

It was a repro gull in the village of Ars-en-Ré. A gendarmerie speedboat took us there while Thibault explained everything. "One person was killed and the seagull is flying around freely. Oh, and by the way, the emergency center is temporarily taking over operations. I have to go to the hospital for an appointment."

A few minutes later, we were whizzing around the Île de Ré near where we had done our diving exercises.

The repo gull had perched on the tower of the church of Ars- en-Ré and was eating some pigeons.

Tartelette ordered us to handle it on our own and sat down on a bench. We gained access to the church tower so that we could make at least part of the climb up the stairs. As did the tourists who climbed the steeple for the beautiful view. Since religion had been banned after the Second Trireligious War, churches were no longer used sacredly.

After that, willy-nilly, we had to climb along the church steeple roof to catch the seagull that had made itself comfortable in a niche. Fortunately, it had eaten the two pigeons whole and not just bitten them, otherwise we would have had to take care of those too.

I pulled the mono rope out of my belt. I set it to apply an ultraadhesive gel every two feet, so you could stick the rope anywhere. It would hold as well as a piton.

I had only practiced with it once, during the basic training.

Now with some hindsight, the two-week basic training had been completely ridiculous. During that time, we were allowed to hold all the equipment in our hands. But mainly we were brainwashed: from now on we were true heroes and had to sacrifice our lives for others. They showed us the great weapons and let us walk around in a robot combat suit. But every evening there was a grandiose dinner. Such events were held every week to cover the supply of new ReS members, as I now knew. It had felt good then, the strong instructors we had and the false security that all the weapons we were allowed to hold radiated. Now I knew it was different.

Anyway, in any case, I was now acting a little stupid, but comfortingly, Gabin and Emily seemed to be out of practice as well. I knew Tartelette was sitting downstairs shaking her head, planning an extra dose of climbing practice for the next few days.

The climbing went well, as there were countless ledges sticking out of the roof for us to pull ourselves up and tie the rope to.

For the last few feet before my stance, I slackened enough rope so that I could swing along the roof if necessary. I was a little proud of this good idea.

But it was not

"Look out, it's coming!" shouted Gabin.

As a white body rose from the alcove, three arrows shot from our Harzapp flew through the air.

In the next moment the seagull, pierced with two arrows, slapped me on the helmet. In shock, I let go and sailed headlong downward. After four meters, the rope tightened at the first attachment point. From the impact my freshly repaired collarbone hurt. Too bad we didn't yet have the new combat suits Tartelette had ordered. They would have much more active cushioning.

The repo gull had recovered and was banging madly against my visor.

I pulled my dive knife from my arm. Finally, I caught the gull's head and severed it with a jerk. Down below, I heard Tartelette laughing in amusement, "Bravo, well done."

Finally, after checking everything, Tamara finished the mission and we ate at the first bistro we came to. Emily and Gabin helped themselves to the mussels, while I didn't venture back to seafood just yet. I went for a portion of fries that appeared to have come from a kid's plate.

Afterwards, Tartelette ordered a driver to pick us up.

In the afternoon we finished the aborted underwater exercise and ended the day with chocolate ice cream. We sat in an ice cream parlor on the boardwalk, where Thibault joined us. He was pale and I could see extra tubes running fluids disappearing under his uniform. In fact, you could barely see anything of Thibault except his arms. His legs were encased in the exoskeleton, his torso had been fixed with screws to keep from caving in, and metal brackets also wound along his head. His neck muscles were no longer strong enough to hold his head. It was the first time I saw him outside the barracks. After a few minutes, he stood up as well.

"I have to go. I'm not viable without all the medical junk."

I had been in the control room once, along with Thibault. He was hooked up to a complicated med kit. As far as I knew, he had only an hour of free time because all of his organs were shattered, with only one lung still functioning. The heart had been replaced by a pump.

For a few minutes we watched in silence as Thibault struggled to make his way. "Guys just be careful when you see a repro elephant," Tartelette said shaking her head. She spooned out and then looked at me:

"Kid, you have your day off tomorrow, right?" she inquired of me.

"Yeah, but I'm staying around here. Just doing housekeeping and the usual."

I didn't want to admit that I had no money left at all, so I couldn't do anything. Not even a bus trip to Île de Ré or around the area was still in the cards. Because I had already spent my first salary, which had arrived this morning, completely. But for a good cause: I had ordered the household robot for my mother. But at least the hazard pay should come soon.

Tartelette gave us the training schedule for the next few days and then said, beaming with joy, "Then I'll see you tomorrow. I have an appointment with a colleague to taste the new cognacs. But I have to do some paperwork and my exercises first."

I also said goodbye shortly after and made a small detour to the barracks. There I was going to pick up my secondary combat gear and bring it home.

I walked by Tartelette's office and heard voices. So loud that I couldn't miss them for the life of me.

"And there's another damn complaint against you on my desk." It was the police commander. "This time for physical threats and insults."

"Well, I insult and threaten people every day. Who do you want it to be this time?" It was Tartelette.

"At that inauguration party, and it was the count-mayor's niece whom you allegedly grabbed by the collar and called her ..."

" ... a stupid cow," Tartelette completed the facts.

"She is the niece of Count de Dorville."

"Give the Count my warmest regards, and tell him that next time I'll take more time with a nuclear ultimatum, and to be on the safe side, maybe I'll have the area bombed to make sure ... where is his house?"

I couldn't help it and still wanted to at least hear the answer from the police chief.

"Tamara watch what you're doing. You have a terrible habit of messing with people more powerful than you. Someday I'll be standing here with a warrant for your arrest."

Tartelette laughed, "And anyway three days later there's a repro disaster somewhere, I get pardoned and taken out of jail. We've had all that.”

I had to grin, yes Tamara really was invulnerable.

I lay down in the muscle stimulation machine for another half hour. Tartelette had bought us these sinfully expensive machines with her new elite unit budget. Now I remember: Actually, we were supposed to get new work contracts, too…