"Greet the day, sunshine."
A gentle knock roused her from a light sleep. Mercy eased her blurry eyes open and groaned in annoyance. She never liked to be forced into waking up; her body naturally had to do it, or else she'd be tired and unproductive all day. Such was the life of a medic. She just hoped the person at the door understood this.
Evidently not, because they knocked again.
"There is breakfast waiting for you in the mess hall," the person – clearly female; clearly Aster – explained. "You need not be late, or else Walt might eat your share."
Mercy buried her face into the wedge pillow beneath her head and shooed her away; she wasn't about to give up a chance to rest – she'd jump at the call of an actual emergency – and frankly Walt, the foodie of their motley crew, had probably already eaten her share. It happened on several occasions in the past, so Mercy never much cared about rushing to make breakfast in time, even though Ed was the cook, and damn was his food good.
"Our boss sent me to wake you; it's mandatory you attend," Aster furthered. "Or else I would have let you sleep in. It's important, sunshine; might even be the news we've been waiting to hear. Take some time to wake up – have a shower – then join us."
She departed shortly after, leaving Mercy to ponder over the one-sided chitchat she and Aster just had.
What sort of news did he have for them? Was it their time to head out again? Risk the dangerous and unexplored terrain of new America?
Mercy huffed; she was in the palm of his hand. Not to mention the Director sent Aster, the kindest woman on the team – the only other being herself – to wake her. It was a dick move on his part, but to be fair, Mercy wasn't the easiest to convince. It took Aster to quickly make up her mind, this time at least.
She stretched her arms above her head and grunted as her muscles tensed up and her bones popped in protest. Yanking the fleece blanket off her bare legs, she dragged her thin body off the padded wall cot she too often mistreated. The sudden change in temperature brought unwanted chills to her heated skin; nothing a warm shower couldn't cure.
But first, she needed some music to bring in the bright morning.
Pop Virus was her number one choice. Mercy couldn't remember where she found the track – a former employee must have recommended it to her – nor could she understand the foreign lyrics, but the soft and peaceful ambiance it created made her heart race and her skin tingle – frisson, she believed was the scientific term for the sensation. Before long she was swaying her hips and humming out of tune with the words as she hastily checked her messages on the holographic display projected upon the wall.
Sunergos; working together, one title read. It was from Deadman, sent during the night from Capital Knot. The title was something of importance to her; the name of the company she was currently partnered with. Mercy assumed as her mentor, the affable doctor was curious about her state of health; that or he just figured out the origin of the company name – the Greek word for synergy – and sent her a message to verify his claim.
Either way, she'd read it after breakfast. Maybe even interest him in a quick game of Holochess.
Mercy stepped into the shower and moaned in relief as hot water poured down her skin. Lifting her arm, she stared solemnly at the cuff link secured to her wrist; funny how it reminded her of handcuffs – stainless steel coded in black oxide with a holographic display screen; technology of the future. This baby was her salvation. Bridges – her employer – done her right by gifting her with one.
The loud whir of the dryer brought her back to her senses as it nearly shoved her out and onto the floor. Mercy ran a towel through her short black hair and went over to the fogless mirror above her sink to finish up.
Next was to get dressed.
The glass shelf in her private room stored a set of uniforms she wore on the norm; one for safe outside use, tailored with a mechanized hood to protect her from timefall, and the other to represent Sunergos.
Mercy pulled on the second uniform, a parka jacket that adapted to extreme temperatures, over her deep navy coveralls, then headed out. She was met in the hall by Rook; a thin middle-aged man with textured blonde hair and a short well-trimmed beard; a regular heartthrob in her eyes. Mercy tossed him a momentary wave as he came out of his own private room.
"Mornin' doc! Might I walk with you to breakfast?"
She agreed and let him come to her side before moving on "How are you settling in? It's been a while since we've talked."
Rook tugged at the sleeve of his parka jacket. "Fine, I think. Names are still a little hard to remember, and my research has come to a complete halt, but that's understandable; we're not making any progress sitting here idle. But hey … things could be much worse."
We could be dead.
"Best not let Cap hear you complain," Mercy snorted. "He agreed on this course of action for the safety of the team."
He rolled up his blue eyes. "The man is a prude. I know he's only looking out for himself and the one paying him."
Rook was right to be upset; wrong to blame Cap though. Sunergos brought him on as their biochemist – redundant in their profession, but everyone had an important role in the world these days – but the week he joined on Fragile Express and terrorists blew up Middle Knot City and killed hundreds. He never made it outside the base before Cap proposed they wait it out for a while. Mercy didn't blame Rook for voicing his concerns; the world was dangerous, but she too missed the freedom it provided.
"Be a little patient." Mercy stopped outside the frosted glass door that lead to the mess hall and faced him; gentle smile on her face. "Things are not good out there right now. The Director is on top of it; he'll let us know when it's time to go out, so give him some trust."
She opted not to mention it, but she doubted even the Director could find them work now. Sunergos broke their deal with Fragile – to expand her company – and put all of their hard work into creating settlements for the unfortunate people who survived and lost their homes to the voidout; those who were not in the city at the time and those who sought relief for the families they lost.
It was a futile attempt in the end however. Preppers turned on them; sent them away at the door. No one wanted to let in people who ignorantly worked for terrorists. Sunergos was a thing of the past.
"Trust him? I trust you, but it's hard to put faith a guy whose name we don't even know."
Mercy snorted despite her grief; she didn't mean to, but every time someone brought up the topic of his real name, she was reminded of the conversation she had with Aster during her first week at Sunergos.
"His real name … maybe it's something real embarrassing or feminine; Aster thinks it might be Sterling or Jules," she whispered.
Rook shook his head in disbelief. "And you? What do you think?"
"Francis … he looks like a Francis to me." Mercy took a deep breath to stifle her need to laugh again. A serious look hardened her eyes. "So, there's no reason not to give him our trust. He's already done so much for us by allowing us a chance to help others."
Keep telling yourself that.
He hesitantly agreed. "If you say so."
Not even he believes your lies.
"May I ask you something, doc?"
She nodded. "Ask me anything."
"There's a researcher at Bridges I've recently heard about. He wrote several interviews on the Death Stranding and I'd like to read them – you have no idea how important this request is to me. His name is Heartman; his research should be in the network, but I can't access them without a cuff link."
He even went as far as touching her arm. A shiver ran down her spine; the urge to wrap her arms around him made her skin tingle. She desperately needed an oxytocin right now; maybe it would even out her oxy levels a bit. Thank god he noticed and removed his hand.
Mercy took a deep uneasy breath – back to the matter at hand. She had never met Heartman before, but she knew of him. His research was extremely valuable to Bridges. She wasn't sure why Rook would see it as such; he developed products such as oxytocin and other smart drugs, but she also wasn't one to question someone's desire for something they wanted so much.
Also, it seemed like a harmless request.
"Let me send him an email first; he might not want anyone who isn't employed with Bridges to read them," she explained.
It was the right thing to do. Rook wasn't too pleased, but he agreed nonetheless. As reassurance, Mercy promised to send the email after breakfast – another to do on her list.
"Shall we then? I believe Francis has waited long enough for us," he teased, ushering to the door.
Mercy playfully ordered him to behave. She was careful not to touch him as they walked into the mess hall together; late as expected.
The Director and Cap were in conversation; too deep to notice Sunergos' own field medic and biochemist walk in together. Aster gave them a gentle smile – her blonde pixie cut hair was styled with an alloy band coated in chiral gold; a present she was rather fond of – and Walt, too immersed in a control system tablet – idly named Top Dog – never looked up. Ed staggered from the kitchen, bringing with him a platter of scrambled eggs and potatoes as they sat at the circular table.
"About damn time," he grunted, doing the same. His taper faded hair was unkempt and damp with sweat.
Aster sent Mercy a look of concern; she too noticed his obvious discomfort.
"Need a pain reliever? I can run back to my room and get you one, sunshine."
Ed took a deep uneasy breath. "Don't trouble yourself with me, darlin'. My arthritis is only acting up because of the rain."
"No reason to let yourself suffer," Aster retorted softly.
Walt at last put down the tablet and soothingly patted his shoulder. "I keep telling him to chill out, but he's as stubborn as damn mule; won't even wear his exoskeleton. It's supposed to lessen the pressure on his joints."
"I know what it's supposed to do," Ed argued. "I customized the damn thing; built the frame out of carbon fiber an––
"And I ran diagnostics on it," Walt interrupted with a laugh. "I know, babe. We're only sayin' that you need to wear it before the swelling gets worse and you're forced to spend time in the infirmary."
Mercy, who was quietly eating, snorted. "Ya don't want that. It's extremely boring in there; trust me."
"All right, for fucks sake. I'll go put the damn thing on after the meeting – ya bunch of naggin' fucks," Ed rambled on.
It was easy to get him started; all in good fun, of course.
A sharp thwack rattled the table and drew their immediate attention down to Cap. He placed his finger to his mouth and hushed the rowdy group.
"It's all right, Aeron. I should begin," the Director mentioned. His unyielding blue eyes moved carefully around the table, from one patron to the next – dread curled her stomach as he met Mercy's curious gaze, then passed on. "Let me start by saying thank you. I realize it's breakfast time, and everyone here is still in the process of waking up, but now is the opportune time to have this meeting."
He paused to wet his lips. "Now … allow me to apologize. Sunergos is on its last leg. As you all know I pushed to collaborate with Fragile Express a few months ago, but in that time Middle Knot was nuked. I realized too late that our partners were in league with terrorists. We lost the foothold we strived hard for; the good we provided went to waste, and since then work has been put on the back burner. Nothing has changed out there; terrorists are still on the loose; the world is nowhere close to explaining the Death Stranding, but an offer arrived to me earlier this week via porter from the eastern region, and for the sake of Sunergos I am going to accept it."
"Offer? What the hell are you talkin' about?"
Aster raised her hand to stop Ed from carrying on. "Let's be rational about this, sunshine. We haven't been told the details yet."
Ed seemed reluctant to listen, but he remarkably did, accepting Walt's hand as it was offered to him.
"Thank you, Aster. Please let me explain before I ask questions," the Director stated in a serious voice. He rested his arms on the table and leaned forward. "The offer was made by Bridget Strand of Bridges, the current President of the United States. As you may know, Bridges is a company stationed in the east. Its goal is to reconnect America via the Chiral Network, a communication network of sorts. They want Sunergos to assist them with this goal and rebuild the individual cities of America into a United Nation. It's a beneficial deal for us."
The letter Deadman sent me. Did he know already? Mercy leaned back in her chair with a pout. She should have read the letter when she got up.
Walt puckered a brow. "Beneficial how? They already failed to connect the cities once. Do they plan to exploit us? Make us do their work for them?"
"I have no idea, I'm afraid. The only information they gave me was just what I said," the Director explained. "Each of us will be allowed to continue our research, and as partners of Bridges, they agreed to share with us their own understanding of the Death Stranding."
Rook hummed – he had been so quiet until now, Mercy wondered if the news was weighing on his mind like it was with the others.
"Why not ask Mercy? She is employed with them. Can Bridges be trusted?"
Mercy blinked back warm tears; her face heated up. "I honestly don't know. It's not up to me to decide our fate, but as a member of Bridges I can guarantee that their research is vast; their resources are vast. It would indeed be a beneficial deal."
"And if I tell them to shove it?"
"Then you can look for work elsewhere," Cap grunted.
Ed shot him the bird.
"It's either we agree, or Sunergos is done for," the Director clarified.
The room went silent as a ghost. Was this really the only choice? Mercy wasn't too concerned. She liked Bridges enough to vouch for them, but honestly, she could tell it wasn't enough to sway her coworkers – Ed mostly. She was certain Rook was onboard, as was she; Aster and Walt were still in the air.
It came as a big surprise to her in the next moment – and the others, she imagined – when the emergency lights unexpectedly went off and swathed the room in a blanket of deep red. The PA system warned them of an intruder, on loop every few seconds.
"The fuck? Is the base under attack?"
Walt grabbed Top Dog and began looking for the source of the emergency. He managed to shut the PA sensor down, but something was still amiss; something or someone was messing with the terminal.
"There's someone at the door," he mentioned in uncertainty. A second later a hologram of said person appeared over the screen of his control system tablet.
Much like the others, Mercy leaned over the table and stared curiously at the person. She forgot they too could see her.
"Can ya hear me? Sunergos right?"
Even with the golden skeleton mask over their face, Mercy could hear their voice with ease – deep and lively; clearly a male. His black nylon hood covered his eyes, but she could tell he was staring right back at them.
"Hi there." He waved.
Ed snorted. "Who the fuck are you, buddy?"
"Name's Higgs. Ya know, Homo Demens."
The terrorist group? Aster covered her mouth in shock; Cap was quick to draw his weapon, a non-lethal Bola Gun; one kill and unfortunately a voidout would end them.
"What can we do for you, Higgs?"
The Director leaned in to keep his wondering attention.
"There he is; the big man. Not the person I thought you'd be," Higgs teased. "But no problem. Last I heard, we're partners."
Mercy shot a brief look at the seemingly fearless man in front of her. He was taking this rather well; her heart was a hammering mess. And what did he mean by partners?
"I'm afraid you have the wrong people. We aren't terrorists, nor have we ever done work with your kind before," the Director clarified.
Higgs laughed. "Terrorists … idealists … Ludens … depends on whose perspective you're viewin' the situation from. But we can talk all about that later. Right now, I'll be civil. May we come in? I think you'd rather us not do this the hard way."
"There's no way they're getting through that door without my permission," Walt declared with pride – no one had their doubts.
"No deal. Sorry," the Director said. "Leave us be; we're not the ones you want."
Higgs lifted his head – she wasn't for sure, but beneath the hood, his eyes were black as coal – and pointed at his temple. "Not the right mindset, chief. Sit tight."
The entire base went dark.