Though I did feel somewhat rested, I hadn't actually been able to nod off. Was I too mentally unsettled still by recent events? Or was sleep a necessity for pre-death beings only? Maybe time just flowed differently for those who were dead.
At any rate, some time had passed without me being aware of it. I only knew that time had passed because when I came back to consciousness I was sprawled out on the floor, and my hand had landed in Rebecca's CPU, giving me access to the server time.
It was the next day. Desmond was out of the Animus, seated in a folding chair with a sheaf of paper in his hand. "Damn, Clay," he said, and scribbled one last thing before tossing the paper to the floor. "Your puzzles just keep getting harder."
I sat up and saw the paper had written on it the exact text of the email message I'd had such trouble composing to him. He'd written all sorts of other stuff on top of it: a dozen different sequences of letters, some lines connecting parts of the nonsense punctuation. I threw my head back and laughed. "Oh, Desmond. Of course. Of fucking course you think it's a puzzle." I rose to my feet. "That's actually kind of sweet, that you think I couldn't possibly send gibberish on accident. You have such high regard for me, like I'm some paragon of guidance." I smiled at him, watching the motes of temple-light cast blue tones through his shaggy hair. "Really, I'm just muddling my way through things the same as the rest of you."
Desmond sighed. "I miss him so much."
"We all miss him," Rebecca said from her desk.
"Sure," Desmond acknowledged, "but it's... it's kind of a different connection, 'cuz me and Clay went through the same shit with Abstergo."
"Yes and that's precisely why he isn't here with us, Desmond!" Shaun piped up.
"Oh but I am." I poked my hand into the computer again. "Let's try for a more coherent email this time."
As I wrestled with the input, Desmond got up and crumpled his paper into a ball. "Well either I'm too dense to figure out the code, or maybe you were right, Shaun."
"Either way, just to be more safe, I've implemented a new scanner on incoming messages," Shaun said from behind his computer. "Anything resembling that hot mess is going to be blocked."
Desmond sighed again, and I swore, quitting my attempt to make another email. "Great! What the fuck am I supposed to do if I can't email you?" I flung my hands uselessly in front of me. "What use is it for me to hang on the mortal coil if I can't make my presence known?" I swung a fist at Desmond, and it "hit", going straight through his head.
Desmond flinched, a hand going up to his temple like he had a sudden headache, and he turned around to glare at me (at the place where I was hovering, at least).
"Oi," Shaun said. "You all right?"
Desmond ground his jaw and brushed fingers through his hair. "M'fine. Think a fly landed on me or something."
"That wasn't a fly!" I shouted, but Shaun spoke over me.
"Let's get out of the cave and catch fresh air for a bit, yeah?" He came over to Desmond and showed a map displaying on his tablet. "Here, there's a Precursor power supply artifact I've just located."
The map showed a section of Brazil. "Do we have time enough to go all the way down there?" Desmond asked.
"We have to make time. Those artifacts are necessary to power the mechanism back there," Shaun said, gesturing through me at the force field. "So, you feeling up for it? Get out and stretch those Assassin muscles?"
"Hell yes!" Desmond said without hesitation. "Haven't seen sunlight in weeks!"
It's good they've got work for him, I thought, actual physical work, work besides being chained into the machine for all hours of the day and night. I had missed the sunlight too, back when I was Subject Sixteen. Sure, there were windows in Abstergo's lab, but I didn't get much time to look out of them; the majority of my time was spent deep in ancestral memories or locked in my room. Even if the Bleeding Effect hadn't been a factor, there was no way a person could live like that and not lose grips on their sanity.
They packed lightly and headed back up to the cave mouth. I considered staying behind, but A) Juno was in the cave, and I didn't want her popping up to antagonize me again, and B) I felt this odd sharp tug on my being, for all intents and purposes dragging me to chase after the group.
I surprised myself with how goddamn fast I could fly. (Should an angel maybe not use that type of language? Eh. Perhaps the fact that such blasphemies came easily to my mind meant I wasn't an angel. Or perhaps I was a failed, fallen angel.)
Desmond and crew were aboard a small plane bound for Brazil. And yes, my top speed was fast, but that was my top speed; it took considerable effort to keep from falling too far behind. If my bewinged body had been physical I'm sure I would have died of over-exertion.
If we'd had time I'd have liked to go check out the ocean, try flying underwater and see the sea life, but like I said, I was hard-pressed to just keep up.
After a long while, their plane touched down in a stretch of open field, and I floated down beside it as they disembarked. They were met by a man I'd done a couple missions with before, back in my previous life as an active Assassin rather than a convenient tool for the Templars to access historical data. His name was Emmanuel Barraza.
"Good to see you, Manny." William gave him a quick combo of a handshake and shoulder pat. Their body language was as that of two war veterans who'd served in the same unit years back, who'd seen some rough shit together.
"And yourself, Miles," Manny said back. "Ah, except there are two Mileses here." He turned to Desmond, looking him over casually. "You really resemble your mother," he said with a smile. "Do you get told that a lot?"
"I used to," Desmond said, "way back when."
His mother must be absolutely stunning.
"...Oh, fuck of a time to get a crush on someone, Clay." I slapped my head. "The only way I'll even maybe have a chance is if he dies too, and we don't want that, for Planet Earth's sake."
The group got into a dingy Jeep and drove a little ways into town, then stopped to switch into a bit nicer vehicle, a black Ford sedan. I coasted along overhead, splitting my attention between listening to their intermittent conversation and watching the people along the sidewalk. If I was meant to be a protector, meant to keep helping Desmond, then the least I could do was make sure no Templars leapt out from the crowd to attack. (Though fuck if I would be able to do anything to stop that, what with being incorporeal.)
Luckily, Eagle Vision showed the local populace was a mass of harmless gray; no enemies among them.
"Wait. When did I get Eagle Vision?!"
This realization was startling enough that I did the midflight equivalent of stumbling, and lost some altitude as a result. I found myself a few feet off the ground, alongside the team's car, and glancing through the window I saw them all outlined in blazing blue.
"Wow." This was fantastic, in the literal sense of the word. "Desmond you lucky dog. You got this power without even dying first." I grinned at him. He was taking a nap right now, messy head rested on Rebecca's shoulder
On a whim, I reached out to him through the window. As my insubstantial fingers failed to brush back his unruly bangs, he started awake with a gasp.
"You okay there, bud?" Rebecca said, steadying his upper arm.
"I- what just happened?"
"Nothing; we're just driving."
"We're nearly there," Shaun said, "so it's good you woke up."
"You guys didn't feel that just now?" Desmond asked, leaning to look at his dad. "Like a... a presence?"
"Presence?" William repeated uneasily.
"Yeah it's me, I'm present here!" I yelled through cupped hands, for all the good it did.
Desmond rubbed the side of his head and glanced out the window briefly. "Felt almost kinda like when Juno-"
"She better not still be bothering you," Shaun snapped. "Last thing we need is you falling over unconscious while trying to secure this power source."
I had been reaching out to touch Desmond again, to channel more of my presence, my self, but at Shaun's words I pulled back and rose above the car again. Yes, it was thrilling to know I had some power to communicate with them, to know I wasn't completely cut off from the world. But better not to futz around learning how to do that while they were on a field mission.
They let Desmond off outside a great big sports arena, equipped with one micro headset and two carbon fiber Hidden Blades. Lastly, Manny handed him a green-and-black ticket. "Hope you're not a pro fighting fan, because you're not gonna have time to watch the match."
Desmond gave a small laugh in answer before heading out. He easily melted into the multicultural crowd and was practically invisible to normal eyes. I flew ahead of him and scanned the building with my newfound vision. A tiny tiny square of gold on one of the upper levels- that might well be our goal. A few red figures were scattered around it. They couldn't know we were here, could they? Perhaps these were just standard security guards.
Below me, Desmond moved along with the crowd pouring into the stadium. Once inside, he glanced around purposefully. Probably using Eagle Vision himself, I thought, smiling a bit at how we now shared this power.
Then, another thought struck, like a little lighning bolt, a sudden possibility! Could his Eagle Vision see me? Juno was able to, and it was their sight, wasn't it? One of their Isu traits, handed to humans via crossbreeding or genetic manipulation. And now watered down through millennia to the point where most people had no access to it. But Desmond had access.
But as soon as that thought hit me I flapped and circled around behind him to stay hidden. If he spotted me now, well, no telling how exactly he'd react, but it almost certainly would startle him out of mission mindset.
He made his way down the corridors, less crowded now that people were taking seats to watch the match. Cage fighting, geesh, I'd thought that was an exclusively "American White Trash" interest, but here were thousands of people of all colors and classes to prove me wrong. Their buzzing chatter filled the place from wall to wall.
A short fanfare played over the PA system and security opened up the doors to the stands. Desmond hung back against a pillar to avoid the rush of rowdy fans vying for the primo seats.
He and I spotted, at the same time, some special guards standing in front of a stairway. A small Abstergo logo was visible on the badges of these two men.
"That'll be where I needa go," Desmond muttered.
"Cut the chatter, you're trying to be stealthy," I muttered back at him.
I watched him sidle up around the corner from the stairwell, pick up a bottle cap from the dirty crungy floor, and toss it to make a (really pro-level) misdirection noise. One of the guards fell for it and left his post to investigate. Desmond choked him out silently and pulled him over to a bench to make him look like he was passed out drunk. The other guard turned around and, seeing this, called out, "Ei! Garoto!"
But Desmond moved like a fucking cobra strike, and that second guard was down no sooner than he'd gotten his two words out.
Damn that man had acquired some skills.