A Gift Repaid Chapter 1: Snow

Rico set down her teacup and reached for the spoon. "I wonder if there's such a thing as too much sugar?"

Across the table, Henrietta giggled.

"What? Did I say something funny?"

"Oh, Rico," Henrietta smiled at her roommate. "I think you're so … so bouncy already. You're always smiling. I can't imagine you with even more energy."

True to Henrietta's words, the ten-year-old girl seated across the table, her blond hair in a neat page-boy cut, was already grinning, and it only grew brighter.

"We have a pretty good life, Henrietta. Before..." She paused, then extended a slender arm out, fingers splayed. "Before this, I couldn't move. My world was just a hospital room."

Henrietta nodded, her thoughts struggling to remember the time before this. Before the Agency. Before Jose. Rico remembers her life before the Social Welfare Agency. What did I do until I was eleven?

Rico continued. A wave of her hand indicated the cello case leaning in the far corner. "Now, I get to go outside, to work with Jean." Her eyes took on a knife-edge glint, her smile grew hungry. "I get to kill people for him. This month, I'm up to five."

"Ha!" Henrietta pointed to her violin case sitting on the shelf above their desk. "I'm up to nine already."

"That's really good! You're so lucky to use P90. It shoots so fast! You can shoot lots of people with it. I only get to shoot one person with my Dragonuv each mission." She eyed the case, then sighed happily. "Two, if I'm lucky."

Henrietta reached over and patted Rico's shoulder. "Should we count each of yours as two? Besides, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you make Jean happy, right?"

"If we count each of my kills as two of yours, then I'm ahead!" The bottom of her fist hit the table so hard the teacup almost tipped. "Ah! That's right. They just did something to my arms – they said I would be stronger, but slower. And they said it would help my aim." She ran her fingers over where her fist landed. "I didn't mean to hit it so hard."

Henrietta nodded. She flexed her artificial right arm, slowly brought each finger against the palm and unfurled it. "I wonder if they will change anything with my arms for this next mission."

"Oh! You're going to catch up with me, then!"

Henrietta brushed a stray strand of chestnut hair away from her face. "No, I don't think so. I'm supposed to be a bodyguard for a lawyer."

"Why does he need a bodyguard?"

She shrugged as she sipped her tea. It was too strong. "No idea. Jose said that's what I was going to do for the next week."

"And then?"

"I don't know. Maybe somebody else will take over? I'll be glad when it's over." Henrietta placed the teacup on the saucer with only the slightest click. "It will be the first time I'll be on a mission without Jose."

"That can be tough." Rico took a sip of her tea and grimaced. "Still needs more sugar."

Henrietta watched as a spoonful of sugar vanished into the cup opposite her. She waited for her roommate to finish first. She didn't want to use up all the sugar herself. "How was your first time?"

Rico laid down her spoon and smiled at the whorl atop her cup. "It was … It was different. I had a lot more freedom. I mean, I still had my orders from Jean, but he trusted me to figure out what to do."

"What was it?"

Rico sipped the tea and smiled. She gave a quiet, satisfied sigh. "The one where I had to kill Emilio. I told you about it, remember?"

Henrietta spooned what was left into her cup. "You never said you killed him."

"Oh. I guess that was the next day. I should have shot him that day, though. Jean told me that, if anyone saw me while I was working, he told me to kill them."

"Everybody?"

"No, silly. Remember what I said about figuring out for myself?" Rico set down her cup. It was empty.

Wordlessly, Henrietta finished her tea. It was still bitter.

Ξ§§§Ξ

While on the isolated path by the artificial lake in the park, Henrietta looked up at her charge. Olinto Gasparotto was a tall man, a solid man. His glasses glinted in the sun. "Signore Gasparotto? Who will protect you after you win the election?"

"Well, as a member of the Chamber of Deputies, I'll have official protection. And remember, as my niece, you should call me Olinto."

"Yes, Uncle Olinto. But that's only after you win?" They walked along the wintry streets; drifts of snow were plowed and shoveled into low, grey-specked mounds.

"I'm afraid so. For now, most candidates hire their own security. But, I need to look brave, so…" He gave a shrug, then smiled knowingly down at the girl.

Not fully understanding, Henrietta nodded, then yawned. The first night sleeping in his home was difficult, but as the week came to its close, she found herself able to doze off, fitfully.

"No need to pretend to yawn, little one. I know I can be very boring when I get to talking."

"It's not that, Signore." She let go of his hand and rubbed her eyes. "I just didn't get a lot of sleep."

"Staying up to protect me, eh?"

Henrietta blinked, unsure if it was better to continue his misunderstanding, or to…

"I'm curious, though. I would have expected you to, well, to not need sleep at all." Whether he sensed her discomfort, or he just wanted to continue the conversation, his words gave her that much-needed escape.

"I'm not a robot, Signore." She gave a small laugh. "I may be a cyborg, but I still need sleep." A yawn ended her sentence. "I'm just a girl, really."

His laugh was an explosion compared to hers. "So all the times you asked for seconds of my pasta, that wasn't just to be polite?"

"Oh, no! It was very good!" She held up her other hand, the purse holding her pistol hanging on her wrist. With her index finger, she counted off as she spoke. "I need to eat, to breathe. And, I need to bathe." Another giggle escaped her. "Or at least my roommate says I need to."

"Ah, so I have the advantage here! I have no one who tells me that..." Playing his role, he tilted his head and pretended to be deep in thought. "Maybe you're luckier to live with a roommate."

They both laughed, their breath forming short-lived clouds in their wake.

After a bit of wordless walking, with only the snow's crunch to keep them company, Henrietta asked, "Signore Gasparotto? I mean, Uncle Olinto? Will Italy be different after the election?"

"It's different after every election, little one. But, those differences are oft-time small and unseen by the press. What the press overlooks, the populace won't see, I'm afraid." He stopped and squatted. "Tell you what. If, after a year, you don't see any difference, you are to march right into my office and tell me so."

"Really?"

"I don't see why not. I do represent you, don't I? And, as a citizen, shouldn't you have a voice in how this country is run?"

"Do I have a voice now, Uncle Olinto?"

"I think so. Yes, I definitely hear a little chick chirping." He beamed a smile at her and rose. "Right now, you are speaking to Olinto Gasparotto, citizen. In a week's time, you will be speaking to Olinto Gasparotto, Deputy of Parliament." He rose.

They resumed walking, part of his daily routine. He would take an hour's walk in the morning, when the streets were crowded with commuters. He would take another at noon, this time through the city parks to talk to those less harried.. With his distinctive silver sideburns and white goatee, his walks were never uninterrupted.

"Well?" He chuckled.

"Well, Uncle Olinto?"

"You only have a voice if you care to use it, Henrietta. What's on your mind?"

"Uh..." Rico's words floated to the fore. "We live a very good life. At the Agency, I always have food to eat, a place to sleep, and clothes to wear. Its... well, it's so cold now. When it was summer, there were many homeless in the streets. But now..."

"You have a heart of gold, Henrietta." He smiled at her. "Maybe it is truly gold. Have you ever considered that? No, but then it would be heavy, and you do not look like you are the sort to have a heavy heart."

A giggle preceded her words. "Uncle! I have a normal heart! That's one of the things they taught us – what to watch out for, and what parts are not protected. My bones are all stronger. Uh, they call it 'carbon fiber laced,' but I don't think it's like shoelaces. My arms and legs are stronger. But, my heart is normal!"

"No, little one. A normal heart in a normal girl at this time of the year would be thinking about her presents. A phone, a handbag, or a jacket. They wouldn't be thinking about the homeless."

Henrietta brushed the half-cape of her jacket as it covered her left shoulder. "But, I have all that, Uncle Olinto. What I want," she took a deep breath and thought of her handler, of his hollow eyes when he didn't know she was looking at him. "I want people to have peace. Can you do that, Uncle Olinto? When you get elected, can you give Jose and those around him peace?"