Hangover: 4694-019

Coffee break, a hangover and I have a curious chest pain. I finished that damn bottle with a pack of cigarettes. I bet another pack will be sacrificed today to calm my nerves. My head hurts and my lungs are screaming for clean air. When I came to the office today there were no traces of the murder. The reception was spotlessly clean as if it had been just recently built. I could not find even a forgotten spot of blood on the walls. But there was something in the air that was seething with an unpleasant presence. Something was boiling within everyone and the ether was but a mesh of everyone's nerves shooting through their skin. People are unusually quiet today. The coffee machine is the one making most noise. I am sitting at a table close to the windows. There are some birds flying by and right now I wish I was one of them. I wonder what it would be like to be free again. Not a eunuch who is serving, a Pet who bows or an employee. Just Katze the mongrel who is free.

I think a lot of what Raoul said the day he raped me. I think the physical pain wouldn't have been so rough if he hadn't raped my mind at the same time. He made me welcome his intrusion into my body and degrade me with each thrust. He was right though. I had willingly given up my freedom to live in a golden cage. Is it wrong of me to long for freedom now? Just because one makes a decision once, is it wrong to have a change of heart? People change their minds all the time and besides, who stays the same forever? No one! People change as well as their desire. Isn't that what defines humans? To be able to change, adapt and to search for new frontiers.

Well, I have a few minutes left. I want to tell you I had written an angry letter to Papa Downs. It was just a few words accusing him of being a deceitful bastard. I got a reply saying he wants a meeting today. It will be quite late and until then I should be able to dig deeper into Raoul's life. At least he is vulnerable now. He has his guard up, but forgets to protect the area below the belt… and that's where I'll hit next time.

The Downs Club: 4694-020

It is very late. I am tired. I arrived to the Downs Club just in time before the meeting started. Papa was in his office with a few distinguished guests, which in this case means the shady individuals that balance between the righteous and the sinner; like me. I recognized some of them from before, but there was one person I had not seen before. His eyes were like ice; blue-grey and focused. He took me immediately into view, seizing me and following every motion carefully. He had a nice leather jacket and a nice shirt with a tie. I assumed it was X-breed and when I approached him, my suspicions were confirmed. His ginger hair was gathered in a ponytail and he was smoking an expensive brand of cigarettes. He offered me one when I was asked to take my seat next to him. The room was filled with people, but I felt I was the only one being in the centre of attention. I hated that, but I had to accept it.

The office was dark, the lights were dim as if these dubious characters feared brightness like vampires. I was the only one seating myself near the lamp. I could see the mist of smoke from dozens of cigarettes build into a swirling mist in this confined space. They must have been there for hours before I came. Before I had the change to light my own cigarette, Papa began talking.

"I saw your letter. I'm sorry about what happened."

"The fuck you are." I snorted with that poisonous stick between my lips. It was a nice taste, but my lungs were hurting and protesting against my deteriorating health. I was lining the bronchial wall with tar, clogging my alveolar capillaries with slime, tiny ruptures and clotted blood was accumulating in the lobes. Each cigarette is taking me a step towards my grave. I don't care, Artemisia. I was so tired of life at that moment. To the point in fact that I dared to challenge the entire pack of nobodies, including Papa Downs, and pushing them against the wall to make them confess about their killing.

What I've heard made me very weak, but I had to play strong.

In short; the murder was not an order given by either X-breed or Papa Downs. They had nothing to do with it. It was a young mongrel female named Amanda who had acted on her own along with a friend. But here was the most shocking thing. You see, I have never ever raised a hand against a girl in my life for it was considered to be the most cowardly thing to do. How could I have known? I had only seen the assassin form the back dressed in a long coat. Although she was part of this operation to bring down the Black Market lords, I wouldn't have acted the way I did if I'd known. I did tell Papa that the name Dr Hannoh had mentioned on his way past me was 'Kellie', not Amanda and that he seemed to recognize her in some way. Apparently, Amanda had a twin sister who had been sold to be a Pet many years ago. The parting had been a very dramatic one involving off the street kidnapping. Amanda had been the lucky one, for she was left behind due to the fact that she was in a fire accident as a child, which left parts of her body scarred. Since then she had been looking for Kellie, and she did find her eventually; when X-breed and his team revealed the identity of the many Pet corpses. It was perhaps not the best way to reunite. Amanda had been a medical assistant at the forensic unit at the station where X-breed is working. It was such a mess, but revenge is a powerful emotion and even conquers the fear of death.

I told them I had shot both mongrels. I got a stinging glare from X-breed, but he calmed quickly although without being able to resist a comment.

"Caring for you precious boss?"

I had so many things to respond to that, yet I chose only one thing to say.

"There were eleven people killed, two of them were your own. How many more would it have been if I hadn't stopped them?"

He countered with a genius chill; "There would have been one more… your boss. The rest is collateral damage, but it is worth it at the moment. But we didn't know she would be doing this. We would have operated differently."

"Listen." I said. "The explosives, which I recognized as PRT45, were NOT something you easily have access to on Amoi. And let me see if I get this right. You said she acted on her own? Now, I know that you guys are part for the special task force, but how the heck did she get her hands on SUCH equipment? It must have been a part of your gear, for this Amanda must have lacked knowledge about what type of explosives to use to cause maximum damage. The lack of proficiency in the way she acted tells she wasn't particularly knowledgeable about conflict situations or weapons. I think she just picked up something that was close at hand and ended up using something really nasty. People were completely charred, X-breed. You see, I know a little about what the task force uses, and it is certainly not PRT45. It can only be used in special situations and is very difficult to come by. They are highly restricted in use for the plasma effects are very hard to control and the damage is huge. It is imported from…"

"The Bravarian system, yes," X-breed cut it. "Since you've been gone from Amoi, some things have changed. Even the police have to evolve with the increasing threats. We have authorization to import more exclusive weapons."

"Iason never liked that idea and he was against it. Who issued this authorization?"

"Ambassador Hazall." Papa added. I must have dropped my jaws.

"Ambassador? Hazall?! Since when?"

"Since two years back, Katze."

"But that's not of focus here." Papa tried to cut in.

"The hell it's not." I exclaimed angrily. "What does he want in return?"

That was when Papa had enough of our bickering and slammed his hand so hard against the table surface that the bottle of whisky he had near his arm fell over and rolled down on the floor where it shattered to a million pieces.

"When you are in my house, you will abide my laws! Now, I don't care who gets what from where, I only care about ceasing these Pet trading affairs. If you can't focus on the importance of this whole business, I will make sure both of you are completely annihilated. I don't care if I have to bleed you myself. I want this to stop! I want you to stop... now!"

I told them I didn't want to work under the conditions where I was at the risk of getting killed and besides, nobody said anything about killing Raoul. I had to accept the explanation that it was an accident, but Papa wanted me to dig deeper into Raoul's affairs. The summary of the letters I've read so far and sent him was not enough. They wanted more. There were too few things connecting Raoul to the trafficking business and it was then when it hit me. Why would he be connected? Was him working at a facility where implanting was possible automatically linking him to trafficking? Wasn't that just circumstantial evidence? I didn't say anything else, just listened to the instructions about me having to compile more data on everything that has to do with implantation.

I have to go to bed now. My lungs hurt and my head is spinning.

Scared: 4694-021

I am so scared, Artemisia. I woke up this morning with a terrible pain in the chest. I don't know it was. It felt like heartburn after some bad reflux, but I felt my lungs cramping and I rushed to the bathroom coughing like I never did before. It was such a painful attack. I was holding on to the sink as if it had been my only support in life. It was then that it came. With each cough a spray of blood was leaving my mouth. I felt my tears flood my eyes and my cheeks. I had never seen anything like that. I felt the metallic, choking taste of it in my mouth. I think it's because of yesterday. I did smoke quite a lot at Papa's club. Or maybe it is just a cold coming up.

I stayed away from cigarettes today, but I feel the craving for it. I have been drinking quite a lot though. I know what you are thinking; why drown my sorrow in a bottle instead of doing what people tell me to. Well, to hell with it. I want at least to have some fun in my life… and that is currently the bottle.
You don't have to judge me, Artemisia. I am doing a splendid job of that myself.

I am tired tonight, so I won't work either on my programming or finding more stuff about Raoul. Trithorax has been sending me emails. I told him I couldn't talk. Not right now at least. I just want to sleep.