First Kill Chapter 3: Endophagy

"So, um, what did I miss?" Eyes distant, Paolo appeared from the edges of Priscilla's confused mind.

She blinked three times quickly, then forced a smile to the fore. "Oh, uh… just, uh, girl talk. Girl talk, right, Al… I mean Dina?"

"Uh-huh, Signore Paolo. I was just sharing a secret with Signori-," Dina inhaled. "With Priscilla."

Paolo sat down and regarded the remains of his dish. "Well, that's nice. It's good that you have someone you can tell your secrets to."

The ambient conversations in the restaurant filled in the silence at their table.

Given this opportunity to recover, Priscilla squeezed Dina's hand. "And it's my turn to show Dina something: we ladies go to the bathroom together. Don't we, Dina?"

A "but" was formed at her lips, but Dina swallowed it back. She nodded once, then froze. "Is that okay, Signore Paolo?"

"Hm? Oh, that's fine. I need to … make another phone call anyhow. I'll meet you outside." Without waiting for their response, he stood, gathered his jacket and threaded his way out the door.

The dessert was not touched since before his first phone call.

Priscilla shrugged as she gathered their coats and bags. "Oh, your bookbag is heavy, Dina."

"Here, let me, please." She casually relieved the older lady of the leather satchel-like bag with only two fingers on her left hand.

Once in the restroom, Priscilla checked the two stalls. Satisfied, she squatted with her back against the door. "Dina, listen. That's not a very good idea. Saying you're in love with Jean, that is."

"Will it hurt Signore Paolo?"

"Probably." She studied the young cyborg's eyes. "Yes. It will hurt him."

"What if I don't tell him?"

"Do you want to keep it a secret from him? Do you want to keep anything a secret from him?"

"No, I don't. But, if it keeps him from getting hurt, then isn't that the right thing to do?"

"No, the right thing to do is to not fall in love with another handler, Dina. And think of what Rico will feel."

Dina's eyes grew wide. "I … I didn't think of that."

"What if you did make Jean smile," Priscilla saw her opening. I don't think there's a chance of that, but if it will stop this… "He doesn't smile for Rico. If he were to smile for you, how would that make Rico feel?"

"Pretty bad, I guess?" Dina's unsure voice was so soft a whimper, Priscilla had to lean forward.

"She would feel very sad, jealous, and maybe even angry." Priscilla forced back visions of what wreckage would result from that. "So, you see why this is a very bad idea?"

Her lips quivering, Dina couldn't speak. She only nodded, blinking so as not to allow the tears their escape.

Priscilla hugged her, held her until she stopped trembling.

Ξ§§§Ξ

The ride back to the Agency compound was short and somber. Each of the trio kept only their own counsel.

At the girls' dormitory, a subdued Dina exited and recited a wish for the adults to have a good evening. Pro forma pleasantries were exchanged.

At the adult's dormitory, Priscilla excused herself, opting not to wait for Paolo to park the Audi. More bland wishes for good evenings were autonomously offered.

Alone, Paolo walked back to his room deep in thought.

The Captain stood outside his door. The sight, the surprise, the curiosity roused Paolo from his miasma. "Captain?"

"I figured you would want to talk about what happened at the dry run."

"Hm?"

"With Jean."

"Oh." Paolo blinked. "He's field lead, right? I don't have a problem, then."

"With him, at least."

Paolo silently weighed whether he found it better that Raballo knew him so well. Memories of past attempts to hold thoughts back from his ex-mentor caused the corner of his mouth to tighten, to rise. "Doctor Manfredi called."

"Time for your yearly again?"

"No, I did that before my interview here."

Raballo nodded and gave a soft grunt. "I'm guessing it's not good news."

"It's not bad. Yet, at least."

"If it does go that way, you know I can't cover for you like before."

Paolo gave a sigh. "Should I tell them?"

"That's not the question you should be asking."

"You're right. What will happen to Dina?"

The Captain shrugged. "They're all prototypes. I don't know what will happen. I can make a guess, though."

"And your guess is…"

"Well, according to Bianchi, the girls imprint on us. Individually. They're like baby birds. The first person they talk to, that's who they're programmed to bond to. By their programming, it's for life."

Paolo swallowed.

"Don't worry. The Agency won't terminate her. There's too much invested in her to do that. Most likely result is that they'll re-initialize her and assign her to someone else."

"Can you … you know." Paolo could not bring the words to the fore.

"No. We only get one girl each. There are too many reasons for it, but their jealousy is probably the most important. It will be someone else."

"Who? Someone else in the agency?"

"I doubt it. The support staff aren't handler material. They'll find someone new."

"How about Marcello?"

"He's married now. That disqualifies him. Out of the old team, you were the only one that fit."

"No one here?"

Raballo shook his head. "No. She wouldn't work."

In spite of his mood, that brought a wan grin to Paolo. "It's that obvious, hm?"

"Only to me."

"That would have made it easier. That way, she would be in good hands."

Raballo grunted. His head remained still as stone.

"What am I missing, Captain?"

"They told you not to rely on the repair process, right?"

"Not get her hurt? I wasn't planning on it." Paolo was caught off-balance by the change in topic.

"Besides that, you know why we shouldn't rely on getting the girls repairs, right?"

Paolo blinked in confusion. "Why?"

"Repairing them requires more conditioning serum."

"Oh. Yes, they told me. It can regress their personality."

"That's all they've determined for sure so far. However, they're investigating other possible side effects."

"That doesn't sound good."

"There's indications that it may shorten their lifespan."

Paolo winced. "All right. Point noted. But how does this apply to me telling them about…" He tapped a finger against his temple.

"Reinitializing them takes a massive dose of the conditioning serum."

"Oh. So it's not so simple."

"Life never is, Di Tomaso. It never is."

Ξ§§§Ξ

Dina placed her bag on the dented and scarred table in her dormitory room. She looked at the empty top bunk and wished she had someone else to talk to, someone her age. Priscilla's advice rang true, but try as she might, she could not still those butterflies in her heart when she thought of the tall, blond, stone-faced handler.

As was her nightly routine, she deftly unpacked the bag. From foam-lined pockets, she removed the Beretta 90Two, the two spare magazines, the suppressor, and the medical kit.

From the underside, she pulled at a tassel seemingly tied to one of the straps to secure the flap. 28 centimeters of Gerber Guardian Mk II double-edged fighting knife slid free.

She studied the blackened blade and ran a finger lightly along it. A faint tingle, a slight bit of friction warned her that the blade was about to bite into her. Sharp enough. She slid it back in its hidden sheath.

With confident, efficient motions, Dina field-stripped the Beretta 90Two. She ensured all the parts were properly lubricated, and inspected the barrel, firing pin, and chamber for residue. All good.

Satisfied, she retrieved the silk scarf from her chest of drawers. By the time she seated herself again, the scarf was rolled into a band the width of her palm. She tied it over her eyes, lifted the left side enough to verify the pistol's parts were sitting in their correct positions, then lowered the material over her left eye.

The young girl took a deep breath, placed her hands in her lap, and whispered, "Go."

Thirty-seven seconds later, she threw the blindfold off and stared at the pistol, now reassembled. There was once a time this was a goal, something she thought would make Signore Paolo proud of her.

Now, it was merely a matter of rote. Her handler was always encouraging, always praising her. Dina thought back to Priscilla's words. "He doesn't have to love you. Paolo loves you because he wants to."

I guess he does. But do I deserve it?

Bothering only to take off her patent leather Mary Jane shoes, Dina crawled into her bunk and tried to sleep.