[Author’s Metanote: I decided to reward my loyal readers with an appetizer, so here are three extra episodes in the form of a Prologue to Book 2. I will release one a week.]
[Author’s Note: This Prologue takes place many years after the events of Book 1.]
New York
Surveying the wreckage, Rin could not help but wonder how it had come to this. What moral trajectory had led each piece to become rubble so far ahead of its allotted time? It all had begun with a single, minor mistake. No, the mistake was that she had become invested. For so long her mission had been simple, however complicated its details may have been.
When had she departed from this creed, or perhaps digressed. Maybe transgressed? The whole thing felt too unremarkable for such a fraught word. She knew what it felt like to transgress, and this wasn’t it. This felt proper. Each piece of rubble was in its proper place, where it was meant to be, the only place it could be. They had put it there, not her. She simply was the mechanism. Had they not transgressed, the building would be standing and everyone inside would be going about their boring, uneventful lives. They were better off this way.
Rin sighed. She had digressed. It would be a long road back to simplicity, and there would be a lot more rubble along the way. The whole thing began with him and it would end when he finally was put to rest. He was the cause and she was the effect. All that remained was to let the paroxysm pass, along with the patient. Then she could return to the pure clean air of redemption instead of sewing new cause for penance.
“Let me introduce everyone,” Bret began.
He was a moderately tall, black-haired man in his forties. Melinda was unsure of his exact title, but he clearly was the point person for this particular task force. In any event, she was about to find out. If her experience with meetings was any indication, half the time would be spent introducing every minor character. She wondered why they even bothered with name-tags.
A rather lengthy round of introductions did indeed follow, and Melinda didn’t recognize half the divisions and departments mentioned. This group sounded like a panoply of representatives from every intelligence and enforcement agency in the phone book and quite a few that weren’t. She wondered how many of her new colleagues’ names and titles were fake and where in the implicit and not-so-secret pecking order she would fit.
From what Melinda could glean, she was there solely in an advisory capacity. She interpreted this as meaning she ticked some box needed by some bureaucrat somewhere. She was to listen, keep quiet, do nothing, and get credit for being on the task force. Melinda didn’t mind. She supposed it would beat doing nothing and not getting credit.
“You all have been cleared for limited TS-12 access. I know some of you have general TS-12 access” — he looked at a couple of individuals in the back of the room, neither of whom were particularly striking — “but most of you do not. For reasons which will be apparent, we’ve temporarily relaxed the background check guidelines, with an emphasis on temporary. Put simply, we’re on a tight clock and need a range of skills we cannot procure quickly via the usual procedures.”
“Bob” — he indicated a pudgy man in a white dress shirt by the window — “will conduct a mandatory training session to familiarize you with your TS-12 obligations.”
Bret adopted a stern demeanor. “Those of you new to this may not fully appreciate how seriously we take security — or the severity with which breaches are dealt. Pay close attention to the rules and do not violate them, even in ways that seem harmless or minor. If you’re unsure, err on the side of caution. Don’t take that file home to work on, don’t tell your spouse about it, and don’t scribble down some thoughts on your home computer. I would hate to see any of you land in prison for the next three decades.” He let this linger in the air a bit.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be thoroughly instructed on everything. If you’re not shitting yourselves by the time Bob’s done, he’s slacking off.” Bob gave a chuckle, and Bret smiled at him.
Melinda wondered whether they were friends off-hours. Being friends with a guy like Bob could be difficult. She imagined having a beer and wondering whether every word would land her in jail. On the other hand, talking to a known threat was a lot less dangerous than talking to an unknown one. She bet there were much worse choices of drinking buddy to be had, especially in the political cesspool this sort of project was bound to become.
Bret’s booming voice carried over their collective heads. “I know this whole situation is unexpected for many of you, and it may put a lot of strain on your personal lives. That is what it means to serve your country. But seriously, we have two on-site counselors to help. They can guide you on how to manage your families through this, though I personally recommend no communication at all. It’s a lot easier to smooth out a bit of domestic strife afterward than explain to your kids why dad’s in prison.” He looked at Melinda. “Or mom.”
Returning his attention to the group as a whole, he continued. “On that note, these counselors are not optional. And do not use your own. You’ll end up spilling, and we’ll find out. You won’t be protected by therapist-patient privilege either. This isn’t theoretical. I’ve seen it happen.”
He looked around the room, and Melinda wondered whether he expected a reaction. Maybe he was checking for signs of inattention or dismissiveness.
“Well, enough of the somber shit,” he announced after a few moments of such scrutiny. “You’ll each be getting your group assignment shortly. But before then, I want to say that I look forward to working with all of you.”
Nervous applause. Melinda clapped silently.
“Now, let me give you a brief overview of what we’re dealing with. Rodrick, can you hit the lights.”
Rodrick was good for more than just the lights, as it turned out. He set up the projector and lowered the blinds, which were of a far heavier fabric than Melinda had expected. She wondered whether they were designed to prevent eavesdropping. She had heard that people could use lasers to detect vibrations on glass. They sure as heck wouldn’t get anything off these.
The presentation itself was surprisingly dry. Melinda had expected the type of rah-rah speech she saw on TV shows, but this played more like a series of technical seminars. From what she could glean, the goal of the task force was to track some woman named Rin. However, they were not to engage with her. It seemed a bit cowardly, but she wasn’t about to say so. Apparently, this Rin had all sorts of superpowers that sounded wildly implausible. She could walk through walls, blow stuff up with her mind, and probably even fly. Melinda wondered whether the woman also had the power to survive boring meetings.
“Problem?”
Bret was staring directly at her. From the look on everyone’s face, Melinda apparently hadn’t kept her thoughts to herself. Had she laughed out loud? She certainly hoped she hadn’t said anything. She looked down.
Bret gave a taut grin. “It sounds like you find this amusing.”
“Not at all.”
“Then why were you smirking?”
The man apparently felt the need for a public interrogation. Melinda had the sneaking suspicion that he had been waiting for just such an opportunity. Great, she was the lucky schmuck who’d volunteered.
“It wasn’t a smirk,” she objected. Before Bret could reply, she added with an involuntary snicker, “Blow stuff up with her mind? Fly? What is she, superman?”
“That’s goddamned right,” Bret exploded. “She’s superwoman.” He emphasized “woman” while glaring at her, apparently unsure whether he could take a woman to task for not using the right super-gender.
Melinda shrugged. “I don’t buy it.” If the man was going to single her out, she at least would be heard.
Bret’s tone softened and he looked around. Yep, she had served as his perfect foil.
“That’s the whole point,” he explained. “You don’t have to buy it. It’s real.”
He signaled to a man in the corner. “Here’s footage to address your doubts.”
The rest of the presentation was less boring but still overly technical. The footage was grainy but did show some rather extraordinary behavior. After her previous mishap, Melinda made an effort to control her facial expressions. To her credit, she managed to avoid being picked on a second time. Several others were less fortunate, and by the end she felt like her own faux pas had been adequately overshadowed.
“Any questions?” Bret finally asked as Rodrick turned on the lights.
He was about to break the meeting into ‘action groups’, when Melinda raised her hand. “Just one minor thing.”
Bret gave her a quick nod. She looked around. All eyes were on her. Obviously, he had not meant to elicit any actual questions and everyone had picked up on this except her. Well, that just was the disadvantage of being in an unfamiliar environment. This was why she hated unspoken rules.
Melinda stood by the door. Last one in meant she had the least desirable position in the room. It probably also meant she’d be the first out the door in a different sense when push came to shove.
“I have to wonder …” Melinda began, before giving a furtive look at the hostile faces around the room.
“Yes,” Bret prompted, no longer trying to hide his impatience.
“… why a tactically-oriented task force, most of whom have military backgrounds …”
Bret looked like he was about to cut her off.
“… would meet in a room with only one exit?”
“We should discuss your concern afterward,” he exclaimed and began to motion everyone to disperse.
“I think it’s everyone’s concern,” Melinda insisted.
Bret walked over and made a show of reading her badge. “Melinda Casey,” he slowly announced. “That is not your department. Please focus on your specific role and leave this to the experts.”
Melinda frowned. “Well, these experts haven’t done a very good job in my humble opinion.”
Bret sighed. “There’s one in every crowd,” he muttered. “Look if you want to dismantle your career, please do it on your own time.”
Melinda smiled. “Well, I’d hate to dismantle my career. However, I think you’re a bit confused. I am focusing on my role.”
Bret seemed surprised. Did he now take her for some sort of auditor?
“And what would that be?” he asked, shuffling some papers into a pile to emphasize his impatience and perhaps disguise his own doubts.
Melinda laughed. “That’s simple. My role is to kill you all.”
“Okay, I’ve had enough,” Bret exclaimed, and reached for her shoulder. He slipped and landed on the floor.
Melinda looked amused. “I’d say so, if you’re that wobbly on your feet.” She reached for his gun before realizing he wasn’t wearing one. She sighed. This was going to be slow and tedious.
Her watch suddenly started beeping, and Melinda grimaced. “Aw crap. I had been hoping to have some fun, but it seems I’ve lost track of the time.”
Can't imagine a better start!