Chapter 5: Beginnings
*
The door opens. For the first time I don't have to close my eyes against the light. My new cell is illuminated by a flourescent tube shielded behind thick steel mesh too high for me to even reach.
"Good morning, Julia."
Oleg steps in, carrying a tray with rye toast and scrambled eggs. I salivate in anticipation. He hands me the tray. There is no silverware, which could after all be used as weaponry. It is a reminder of my intermediate designation.
"After breakfast, I thought you might enjoy a shower. Just knock on the door when you're ready. The guards will take you."
"Thank you," I smile up at him politely, but without warmth. He turns and leaves. The metal door swings shut behind him and I hear the lock slide into place.
When he is gone I devour the meal, and lick the plate clean of butter and egg yolk.
*
I am taken to a room with pale green tile and a two-way mirror along one wall. The shower head drops straight down from the far corner. A shelf in the tile holds soap and a washcloth. By the door is a single towel.
I know they are watching from behind the mirror.
The shirt comes off first, pants next, and I leave them in a pile on the floor. Julia is not ashamed of her body. And I could care less who sees me naked if it means a few minutes under hot water.
I turn the dial and it hits me cold, warming up slowly until the room steams. The soap smells like lavender and green tea. I breath deeply. The lavender is at once soothing and invigorating. I lather the washcloth with soap and rub my skin clean of dirt and sweat. I lather my hair. Then I just stand under the spray, face up, relishing the heat.
I am warm and clean and full.
*
"Julia is who you are. Julia will live well, eat well."
His voice drones on and on through the headphones, calming, almost hypnotic.
"Her sexuality is another weapon in her arsenal. She enjoys physical pleasure: fine food, expensive clothing, attractive men and women. Julia forms no emotional bonds. After losing her family, Julia will never love again. She cares only about herself. Julia is loyal to the highest bidder, and the Covenant pay her extremely well. Julia kills without mercy, has no qualms about interrogation. Julia is who you are."
Julia is a ruthless mercenary with a thin topcoat of sophistication and beauty. I can be ruthless, like her. I can kill in cold blood to save myself.
*
I wonder what she would think of me: Laura Bristow, Irina Derevko. I followed in the footsteps of the former, only to become the latter.
There is no going back. I will never again be who I was.
*
I only think about them at night, after all the lights have been turned off. I push my face into the pillow, and dredge up all the memories. Danny, Will, Francie, Vaughn, my father, even those happy recollections of my mother before I learned I was raised by a mirage.
I dig for tears. The ache grows smaller. More often than not, my eyes stay dry.
*
Julia's normal life was interrupted by a singular event: the death of her family in fire. That drove her to vengeance, and to this life. An ironic choice of history, considering my odyssey was also forged in fire. The world declared me dead when my apartment burned down. And the Covenant molded me in the crucible of torture and deprivation.
What started me down this path? I can't fix on a particular instant where turning left instead of right would have saved me this pain. Every choice I have made has deflected my trajectory a degree further from normal.
But even before I made those choices, I feel like this fate was inescapable. A KGB mother, a CIA father, and a tangled web of lies and loyalties played by a thousand separate puppeteers.
The situation is largely out of my control. Perhaps Julia is right to care only about herself. Her loyalty is true: unaffected by the shifting alliances of her employers, or the needs and wants of family, and lovers, and friends.
*
*
The door opens. For the first time I don't have to close my eyes against the light. My new cell is illuminated by a flourescent tube shielded behind thick steel mesh too high for me to even reach.
"Good morning, Julia."
Oleg steps in, carrying a tray with rye toast and scrambled eggs. I salivate in anticipation. He hands me the tray. There is no silverware, which could after all be used as weaponry. It is a reminder of my intermediate designation.
"After breakfast, I thought you might enjoy a shower. Just knock on the door when you're ready. The guards will take you."
"Thank you," I smile up at him politely, but without warmth. He turns and leaves. The metal door swings shut behind him and I hear the lock slide into place.
When he is gone I devour the meal, and lick the plate clean of butter and egg yolk.
*
I am taken to a room with pale green tile and a two-way mirror along one wall. The shower head drops straight down from the far corner. A shelf in the tile holds soap and a washcloth. By the door is a single towel.
I know they are watching from behind the mirror.
The shirt comes off first, pants next, and I leave them in a pile on the floor. Julia is not ashamed of her body. And I could care less who sees me naked if it means a few minutes under hot water.
I turn the dial and it hits me cold, warming up slowly until the room steams. The soap smells like lavender and green tea. I breath deeply. The lavender is at once soothing and invigorating. I lather the washcloth with soap and rub my skin clean of dirt and sweat. I lather my hair. Then I just stand under the spray, face up, relishing the heat.
I am warm and clean and full.
*
"Julia is who you are. Julia will live well, eat well."
His voice drones on and on through the headphones, calming, almost hypnotic.
"Her sexuality is another weapon in her arsenal. She enjoys physical pleasure: fine food, expensive clothing, attractive men and women. Julia forms no emotional bonds. After losing her family, Julia will never love again. She cares only about herself. Julia is loyal to the highest bidder, and the Covenant pay her extremely well. Julia kills without mercy, has no qualms about interrogation. Julia is who you are."
Julia is a ruthless mercenary with a thin topcoat of sophistication and beauty. I can be ruthless, like her. I can kill in cold blood to save myself.
*
I wonder what she would think of me: Laura Bristow, Irina Derevko. I followed in the footsteps of the former, only to become the latter.
There is no going back. I will never again be who I was.
*
I only think about them at night, after all the lights have been turned off. I push my face into the pillow, and dredge up all the memories. Danny, Will, Francie, Vaughn, my father, even those happy recollections of my mother before I learned I was raised by a mirage.
I dig for tears. The ache grows smaller. More often than not, my eyes stay dry.
*
Julia's normal life was interrupted by a singular event: the death of her family in fire. That drove her to vengeance, and to this life. An ironic choice of history, considering my odyssey was also forged in fire. The world declared me dead when my apartment burned down. And the Covenant molded me in the crucible of torture and deprivation.
What started me down this path? I can't fix on a particular instant where turning left instead of right would have saved me this pain. Every choice I have made has deflected my trajectory a degree further from normal.
But even before I made those choices, I feel like this fate was inescapable. A KGB mother, a CIA father, and a tangled web of lies and loyalties played by a thousand separate puppeteers.
The situation is largely out of my control. Perhaps Julia is right to care only about herself. Her loyalty is true: unaffected by the shifting alliances of her employers, or the needs and wants of family, and lovers, and friends.
*
