Chapter 6: Anne
Two lone headlights pierced the morning darkness as Blair and his companion made the final few kilometers to G&K Geneva. It had been five hours since the fall, and four since Welrod Mk II had passed on. Eric Blair had yet to get over that fact, his shirt stained with coolant, oil, and tears. The man gripped the wheel stiffly, cursing himself for his stupidity. Welrod had died not because of some rogue Commander, or assassin; she had died because of him, because of his insistence on climbing an utterly ridiculous mountain, just to spend time with her. Blair began to shudder as another fit of anxiety started to show itself, however, before he could fully break down, the distant lights of the oncoming facility came into view.
"Q-quite the e-establishment…" Eric said shakily to himself, looking down at what remained of his adjutant, taking heed to not look upon her face, "we-we're going to get you fixed Wells, I can p-promise you that."
The truck pulled closer to the front gate, where it was held up by the T-Doll garrison that was manning the outpost that shift. Eric rolled down the window, doing his best to appear professional, though his reddened eyes and beleaguered appearance stated quite the opposite. The doll at the gate was a G41 type, however unlike most dolls of that model, she wore a standard G&K uniform.
"Identification please!" She said, rather chipper, not minding Blair's clear state of distress.
"Y-yes, b-but a moment," Eric replied as he reached for his glove compartment, ultimately forcing himself to look upon Welrod's face, her lifeless eyes staring back. The man shut his eyes, trying to erase that still image from his memory, even as tears welled at the base of his eyelids. After letting out a trembling breath, he opened the compartment and retrieved his identification, taking heed not to repeat his mistake.
"G&K Commander Eric Blair. I am r-requesting an audience w-with Commander Anne M-Martin. It is of the utmost importance," Blair continued as he handed the child his papers.
The G41 doll looked over the ID, running the numbers mentally before giving a nod of recognition. "Ms. Kalina will take you at the front office, from there you will be directed to Ms. Martin. Have a nice day commander Blair!" The doll said with a salute, handing back his papers.
"T-thank you M-Miss G41…" The man replied as he took the papers back, rolled up the window, and cruised through the front gate. Despite his anguish, the man was puzzled as to the presence of Kalina.
I had thought she transferred to Russia, what is she doing in Switzerland?
There was not much time to ponder this, as Blair had already arrived at his destination. He shifted the truck into park, turned the keys to the off position, and opened the driver's side door. Sliding out, the man then walked around the front of the truck, and to the passenger side, where he opened the door and retrieved the remains of Welrod.
I have already walked miles with her in my arms, another dozen feet will not matter.
Eric walked up to the main entrance to the facility and through the front door, careful not to hit his adjutant's head on the way in.
The front office was a simple affair, there was merely an oak desk with a computer, and a bell up front labelled "ring me" and a door leading to some kind of backroom.
Right then, time to meet Miss Kalina again, if only I were not in my present condition.
Blair shifted Welrod's body onto his back and rang the bell with a free hand.
A bright flash of light popped out of the back room along with a puff of noxious smelling smoke, almost like sulfur. Kalina quickly made her way out without paying any mind to it at all.
"Hello sir how are you? What do you need this fine evening?" She chirped.
"I request an a-audience with C-Commander Anne Martin. T-this is of the utmost importance," Blair replied.
Kalina started clicking on the keyboard on top of the oak desk, before looking back to him.
"Alright, what is the purpose of your visit?
"I would have thought the girl on my back was evidence enough. I need to f-fix h-her," Blair said shakily.
"What is she? Your wife or something?" She said as she continued to click away at the keyboard.
"Adjutant."
"Needs repair for wife." She mumbled to herself as she finished up her forum. "Alright, you are golden, Anne should be in her office, I believe she fell asleep filing paperwork. Head up the stairs to the right and it's the first door on your left. Have a great evening Commander Blair!"
"...thank you," Blair replied without enthusiasm as he shifted Welrod again before heading up the stairs towards Anne's office, thinking of the conversation he just had.
The Kalina I knew would be a bit more concerned. What happened to her?
His momentary distraction proved fruitless, as once again he found himself staring at Welrod's still face, at what he swore was a kind smile. Blair shook his head, and for the first time tried to get a sense of his surroundings. Glass… everything was made of glass; the walls, the ceiling, everything. His reflection gazed back at him, exhausted, tearstained, and pained. Pale moonlight shown down through the roof of the hallway, providing the only light to this part of the facility. It was rather soothing, something Eric didn't mind in his moment of anguish.
...Wells, you would like this place, it is quite beautiful.
That momentary thought of his dear friend was ill advised, as the man sputtered out a torrent of emotion, barely audible over the sound of his beleaguered footfalls. Ahead of the Eric was a flight of stairs, and as he climbed them, Blair ran into the only man made lighting fixtures since leaving the front office. An oaken door stood before him, emblazoned with a plaque reading: Director Anne Martin. Eric, composing what little remained of his sanity, knocked several times on the door, and awaited a response.
Anne was shot awake at the knocking noise, looking around her office frantically to discern what had occurred. The knocking continued for a few moments before subsiding, causing her to groan in discontent. She looked over at the clock, 03:35, who the hell was here at this hour? She forced herself up from her desk, dusting off her green pea coat as she made her way to the door.
She cracked to door open slightly, and being unable to identify the man she decided to simply ask. It was probably her tired and groggy eyes after all.
"Bonjour, Qui est-ce?"
"J-je s-suis Commandant Eric B-Blair," The man responded in stifled French.
"Oh, a brit, come in Monsieur." She said fully opening the door. "Close the door behind you s'il vous plaît"
Anne made her way over to the desk, quickly finishing the filing work she had started earlier in the night.
"I'll make this brief. I have come requesting your aid in fixing my adjutant," Blair said quickly as he shut the office door.
"Monsieur, while I understand your request, why have you brought it upon yourself to drag her all the way up here, she must weight well over 150 kilos. What is she? Your wife or something?"
"I've carried Welrod several kilometers from where she fell, a couple flights of stairs isn't much more than that. I've already told you that she's my adjutant," Blair responded, a bit perturbed.
Anne tilted her head a bit looking at the man. It was clear from the way he was acting that she was far more than merely an adjutant, even a moron could see that. He was covered in oil and coolant fluid, which were blurred by the tears that had been running down his face.
"Well yes Monsieur, you must be rather thirsty. Let me get you a drink." She said, slipping below her desk, pulling out a bottle of brandy and two glasses.
She poured the glasses with trained precision, something she had picked up from Emily. Placing the bottle between the two glasses. "Now what brings you to Switzerland? Sightseeing?"
"Reconnaissance. I'm sorry for being so forward but… This is not the best time to be drinking Miss Martin," Blair replied, leaving the glass where it was.
"Mon Dieu Monsieur Blair, there is never an improper time to sit down and have drinks with a coworker. What exactly were you scouting up in the Alps? There really isn't much of note up there I assure you, I have checked myself numerous times. Not even so much as a parking violation up there in 5 years."
"An organization known as the Syndicate is planning something to shape the European Union. Welrod and I were tracking the movements of a convoy of documents moving towards Antwerp," Blair replied, "again, this can all be expanded upon later. I kindly request your aid in fixing my adjutant."
"Ah yes I know of the convoy you are speaking of, it passed through Bern a few hours ago. You see, I have this inkling feeling that you were doing something less professional up there. Maybe perhaps… a date? Not that I would judge you for such things, I would merely like to know more about the person I am about to lend my facilities."
"To even begin to think you would insinuate such a thing… as if I would tell a stranger more than she needs to know," Blair replied sternly, starting to get fed up with this charade.
"Sometimes you don't need to tell people things for them to hear you monsieur, and a person with nothing to hide in that regard wouldn't get so worked up about this would they?"
"Worked up?! Do you not see the girl on my back Miss? Do you not get worked up when you lose one of your girls?!" Blair replied, beginning to lose his temperament.
"You don't carry the body of somebody you don't care about 15 kilometers through rugged mountain wilderness to take her body to get repaired, you call the police and wait for them to deal with it." She said, leaning over the desk tapping Blair on the nose. "I think somebody is in love and refuses to admit it."
"IS THIS A JOKE TO YOU?!" Blair yelled, snapping as this woman continued to torment him in his moment of anguish, "WHERE IS YOUR SENSE OF EMPATHY?!"
"How am I supposed to have empathy for somebody who stubbornly refuses to admit that they have any feelings?" Anne elaborated, kicking back in her chair sipping the bourbon in the glass.
"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT YOUR EMPATHY FOR ME, BUT I DO CARE ABOUT YOUR EMPATHY TOWARDS WELROD," Blair spat, his body beginning to shake from the frustration of all of these petty questions. "DO YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW MUCH THIS GIRL HAS BEEN THROUGH? SHE'S BEEN STABBED, BEATEN, NEARLY KILLED PERMANENTLY, AND YET SHE CONTINUES TO SERVE A CAUSE SHE BELIEVES IN, NOT FOR FAME OR GLORY, BUT BECAUSE SHE LOVES HER TEAM!"
"Yes she cares about her team, but do you care about her? You talk so much about how great Welrod is, but why are you here? What feelings inside of you brought you here? What feelings made you lug a 150 kilo robot 15 kilometers through rugged alpine wilderness then drive her numerous hours down winding mountain roads to my doorstep?"
"IS THAT EVEN A QUESTION?! OF COURSE I CARE ABOUT HER! BUT IT'S NOT ABOUT ME OR MY DAMN FEELINGS, IT'S ABOUT GETTING HER BACK TO NORMAL!"
"Monsieur Blair, I will help you but only if you are honest to me about how you feel about her. I refuse to let this poor girl live in a world with a man who can't even understand his own feelings for her." Anne began to sip the amber liquid, staring over the rim of the glass at his eyes. " Hell if you are honest I will even foot the bill. Don't give me your "steadfast professional" bullshit. I can see right through it."
"I KNOW MY DAMN FEELINGS YOU DAFT, UTTERLY BELLIGERENT AND UNKIND WOMAN!" Blair said, "I LOVE THIS GIRL."
I do Wells.
Anne chuckled a bit as she stood up and moved her way around the desk. Closing the man in a tight embrace as she began to laugh hysterically. "Monsieur that is all I wanted to hear. Now come on, let's go get her fixed." She said, patting him on the back.
"The fact you think this is funny disturbs me to no end," Blair replied shakily, his tone back to normal.
"When you sit around here all day you try and find amusement wherever you can find it, now come on, we have to go grab my adjutant." She opened the door, leading the man towards the exit.
"I pray that you never have to go through what I have experienced Miss Martin. You will find that amusement is the last thing you wish to find," Blair replied as he followed Anne out the door.
"I don't think I ever will, at least not around here." She said.
I truly pray she doesn't… I am pleased you were not able to see that Wells, I admit I got a little carried away. I promise I'll keep myself restrained.
Anne led Blair outside of the main building, leading him down the well-lit sidewalks towards the building known as dormitory 5. It was rather similar to most of the other buildings in the complex, mainly glass and with little exterior differentiating features. Anne made her way up to the door, sliding a keycard before turning her way to Blair.
"Wait here, I'll only be a moment~." She said, slipping into the building
"Not like I have much of a choice Miss Martin," Blair grumbled as he leaned against the wall of the facility.
I do hope she hurries. The sooner we get you a new body Wells, the sooner things can return to normal.
A few moments later Anne made her way out of the building carrying a small red haired girl between her elbows. She was shaking around violently trying to pry herself free, however the attempt was futile.
"Feeder! Put me down!" She shrieked.
"As you wish princess." Anne replied, dropping her abruptly to the floor.
The girl brushed herself off as she stood up, clearly irritated by this turn of events. "If you are going to drag me out at 3 in the morning at least let me get dressed first." She mumbled, brushing herself off.
"As you wish, Monsieur Blair meet Mademoiselle MP7." Anne said pointing to her adjutant.
MP7 was wearing a rather large dress shirt, however there was a distinct lack of pants on her person, she had apparently fallen asleep in the shirt and had not had the time to put on pants before Anne forcibly removed her from bed.
"I take it this is your adjutant," Blair replied plainly.
"If by adjutant you mean "person who does her bosses work for her" then you would be correct John Bull" MP7 grumbled.
"First I'm forced to admit my love affair to a stranger, and now I'm being assigned a nickname. G&K Geneva is certainly one of a kind," Blair mumbled, "Commander Eric Blair, Sector 78 Scotland, at your service."
"She has a habit of assigning them to everyone, you get used to it." Anne said giggling lightly.
"Shut it feeder."
"Guess which one is mine. Come on now, we have to go see Papasha." Anne ordered, moving in the direction of the command center.
"As you wish," Blair replied as he shifted Welrod's body into a more comfortable position on his back.
These two have an interesting dynamic Wells, similar to ours, barring the lack of respect of course… though at the same time I feel it suits them.
Anne led the two once again down the long cleanly sidewalks, towards a large building at the edge of the complex. It was by far the largest building, with a large helipad overhanging the rather large Lake Geneva. Anne slid her keycard over the reader to the front door, ushering the two in rather quickly, before taking them down a rather long hallway. At the end of the hallway there were two large doors which opened into a venerable workshop, which was the repair bay. There were three figures inside, a small girl wearing stereotypical Russian headgear, a man in a wheelchair, and a red haired girl with wolf ears and a tail. The man was signing rather furiously as a male voice came from the red haired woman.
"What do you mean?" The male voice stated, anger clearly in his voice.
"I mean Comrade Boehler that you will need to wait a few more days to get replacement bodies, there was a recall for Spitfire models and therefore it will be a few days until they can fill out orders." The small girl said.
"Papasha, I understand that, but I need the team by the end of the week and I can't have delays like this."
The red headed girl, who up until now had bright blue eyes, switched to red ones as her voice switched to a rather cheery feminine voice. "Calm down Jean! We will get it together in no time!"
Anne led her group towards the two, chuckling as she heard the argument currently ongoing. "Jean has his panties in a twist again, P220?"
"He is being a big meanie to poor Papasha." P220 replied.
"I take it more of your employees Miss Martin?" Blair asked as he sauntered behind Anne.
"Unfortunately" "Jean" replied.
P220, who was clearly angered by this, flicked the back of his head, causing him to rub it forcefully. "That was mean Jean. Sorry about his rudeness. This is Jean Boehler, and I am P220 his caretaker.
"Commander Eric Blair. I'd offer my hand… however I'm quite occupied at the moment."
"Understandable. I think you might want to take a look at her Papasha?" "Jean" Said.
"You're right Comrade Boehler. Let me see her comrade! I am Papasha, or PPSh-41, at your service!"
"One moment," Blair replied as he knelt down to Papasha's height, letting the girl examine what was left of his companion.
Please, let there be something salvageable. I cannot bear the thought of losing you completely Wells.
Papasha inspected the body, putting on some kind of goggles as she inspected every nook and cranny of the dead body. She got a frown on her face the more she inspected, before finally giving out a sigh of defeat. She ran her fingernail in a square around a specific spot on Welrod's back. A fist sized cube popped out, it glowed dimly with a blue light. She intently inspected the cube, finally smiling as she gave a sigh of relief.
"Well her body is toast, however her core seems to be perfectly intact. If there is one thing I can say about these old war dolls is they know how to protect their cores. They had to in a way, they were designed before the cloud was even a glimmer in some inventor's eye." She said, taking off the goggles. "One moment comrade, I'm going to go check the inventory to see if we have a spare body of her model lying around."
"Please let me hold her," Blair replied, reaching out a hand.
"As you wish comrade." Papasha conceded, handing the cube to him.
N-nothing more… nothing more could be salvaged?
She then ran her way into the backroom, disappearing for the time being. Jean looked at him intently, his labored breathing being the loudest thing in the room at the time.
"What is she? Your wife or something?"
"...no… but she may as well be," Blair said quietly, curling his fingers around Welrod's core and bringing it to his chest, feeling the warmth envelope his hand.
At least I still have a piece of you Wells, no matter how small… I won't be letting you out of my sight.
P220 put her ears down as she put her hands together and up to her face. "Awwwwww it's adorable."
"That is the worst possible response to somebody who is dealing with the death of a loved one." "Jean" replied.
"But it's cute~."
Jean made some strange gurgling noises, clearly intended to approximate a groan as his hand became planted in his face.
"I appreciate your concern Master Jean," Blair replied as he gazed at the door Papasha disappeared into, waiting for the moment to reunite Welrod's core with her new self.
This is taking far too long.
Papasha finally came out of the back, this time sporting a bottle of apparently very expensive vodka.
"Apologies comrade but it appears we do not have a copy of her model here, however, it appears we do have one in Bern. You might need this." She said, presenting the vodka bottle to him.
"Well, we can put you on a train to Bern in the morning, until then you should probably get cleaned
"Is there any way I can arrive in Bern earlier than later this morning," Blair replied solemnly as he took the Vodka from Papasha.
"Sadly not, trains stop running at midnight, and I doubt that Alex will appreciate the late night visitors. You will have to stay here the night." Anne said, taking a seat at Papasha's desk. "G36, get him cleaned up and in a room. He doesn't get a choice on the matter."
A blonde haired girl in a maid outfit made her way out from the back room, bowing before the assembled group. "As you wish Madame Martin." She said, moving over to Blair's side.
"If you don't mind we can take that body off of you. You can keep the core, sadly the train system doesn't appreciate people bringing dead bodies along. Last time I tried things went… poorly." Anne stated, looking down at her feet at the mention of it.
"Understandable… may I at least s-say g-goodbye?" Blair replied, choking on the last two words.
"You have 30 seconds." Anne said, taking out another bottle of vodka from under the desk, popping it open.
Blair walked over to the Welrod he had known for the last two years, the one who he played chess with, the one that saved him from assassination, the one who he shared his thoughts, feelings and past with. Eric reached a hand to her face, a quivering smile forming at the base of his own. He silently slipped his hand over Welrod's emerald eyes, shutting them one last time. Blair wiped away the streak lines of tears that were descending his face, took a deep breath and said one last thing to his friend.
"Farewell W-Wells, know that I'll always r-remember this you," Blair said softly as he popped open the vodka bottle and took a swig, the fiery liquid burning in his throat, but still not as warm as the core in his hand.
"Wait a minute" MP7 said rather disconcertedly.
"What is it 7?" Anne asked.
"I'm not wearing pants… around strangers…"
"Yeah, that wasn't obvious?"
MP7's face turned blood red as she began to get rigid. She only managed to screech out one thing before falling completely over herself, rigid as a board... "AWAAAAAAAAAA!"
G36 then moved over to Blair, having been watching a pocket watch the whole time. She grabbed the man, sticking him under her shoulder as she began to move off.
"Sir Blair, your 30 seconds are up. It is time to go take a bath."
G36 then carried him off to the guest room, seemingly cold to the emotion he was currently going through. It was not her place to judge or to empathize, she was merely a maid.
I got to say goodbye. T-that's all that m-matters right Wells?
The man didn't budge as G36 carried him off, still holding tightly to the bit of Wells that remained. His eyes were planted on Welrod's body, all the way to the door, until G36 rounded the corner, and hid the body from sight forever.
In a few short moments, G36 deposited Blair in one of the guest rooms of the facility. Wordlessly, the maid drew a bath, stripped, and helped tend to Blair's needs, all the while the man keeping Welrod's core within view. G36 left the room for less than a minute and returned with his clothes, washed, dried, and ironed. She helped the man out of the bath and dressed him in his boxers, then picked him up once more and tucked Blair in bed. The maid accomplished all of this within a twenty minute span of time. G36, her task complete, walked towards the door, bowed, and said, "Call me if you need anything," before exiting, shutting the door as she went.
The room was plunged into darkness, the only light emanating from Welrod's core resting on his bedside table. Blair grabbed his filled shot glass and downed the vodka, pouring out another before placing the bottle down and taking a swig. Blair set down the shot glass and reached for Welrod's core, holding it in his hand once again, its warmth comforting the despairing commander.
I'm sorry Wells. You didn't deserve this. You certainly don't deserve me. I've made an utter fool of myself hiding my feelings from you, all because I was afraid of the consequences. No longer, when this is all set and done I'm being forthright with you. No more secrets, no more disguises. The new you… will also be a new me.
Blair felt emotions building inside him, and for the first time since he arrived, let them tumble out. The man let his trembling wails drift him off to sleep, as Welrod remained by his side, comforting her commander as he mourned the loss of someone he loved.
Author's Note:
I wish to thank discord user and writer SpacePrius for co-writing this chapter of Chess Pieces. Prius is one of several writers in the Creative Writing Circle on the discord, who so kindly rented out his characters to me for a chapter. The colorful characters of G&K Geneva, Switzerland are being expanded upon in his series, Glass Towers see the link below.
s/13093921/1/Glass-Towers