Chapter 2: Geheim

Hilshire had learned better than to interrogate his surrogate little sister about things which she didn't want to talk about. There was still enough conditioning in her mind to force her to answer all of the questions he asked truthfully eventually, but the hissy fit that inevitably followed one of those sessions was an extreme pain in the ass. Therefore, the topic of "what happened" was left to the mission report, which was basically "encountered hostile cyborg, situation handled appropriately, with the cyborg escaping after deciding to cease hostilities." Such a cryptic note. He would have to investigate further. All he had gotten was that the male cyborg's name was Jan, and, by Triela's own reckoning, which was right more often than not, the cyborg had skills rivaling his own sister's. This was an unpleasant and unexpected development, and further investigation was required.

The first place he went was Section I. He was going to find out who the hell "Jan" was. Moseying up to a colleague's office, he asked "Giuseppi, could I have a moment of your time?"

"I suppose, for an old friend."

"I was doing a little bit of research, and I wanted to know if you knew of any assassin by the name 'Jan.' Triela found him attempting to kill her mark yesterday. Just inquiring." Hilshire tread lightly. There was no reason to push too hard yet. The situation was still very much under control.

"Jan? No, I'm afraid not. Most of the German assassins stay in Germany. I'm don't think there's a Jan in the important ones. Still, no reason they'd be hired by our government to do their dirty work. They've already got pretty girls to handle that mess for them." Giuseppi winked broadly, before continuing on to what he really wanted to say, "I'll tell you a secret. I've heard rumors of an organization hunting down the same types of people as us. Terrorist hunters, or something."

"Anything more?"

"Nothing. Very professional guys, they are. Maybe you can find your mystery man there."

"I'll take a look. Thank you so much for your help."

Hilshire did take a look. The data suggested that there was another government organization doing many of the same things Section II did, on a more international scale. This group hunted down those terrorists who fled the country to fight another day. The more Hilshire looked at it, the more he was surprised the girls hadn't run into one of this organization's assassin's earlier. Then, a though ran through his head that disturbed him. Was Italy a police state in disguise? Not even a semblance of democracy, and quite possibly that the people he killed were right? He shook his head. He'd had that line of reasoning before, and every time, he'd had that idea shattered. The people he fought were no better than the people he served. He wouldn't be in his line of work if he didn't believe that. Nevertheless, the existence of another organization was enough to inform Jean—and important enough to jump the chain of command, and tell Triela, so the other girls would be aware of another organization. It was sleight of hand, really, dispersal of information that would inevitably get classified to the right people, without putting himself in real danger. All he was doing was informing his cyborg of events which had happened already, not even the slightest bit subversive. Besides, the girls knew what they should keep mum about. Hilshire hopped into his car, and drove back to his own office.

What he found was Triela holding court. That was unusual, really. Claes was the queen bee of the original five girls. She had the most time to spare, and had grown to be better at dealing with people than she was handling a gun. Claes was basically the counselor for all the newer, younger cyborgs—the conditioning doctors were amazed that five minutes with Claes could deal with most any issues of "my handler doesn't love me" more effectively than anything they could do. They hypothesized that hearing what they needed to hear from an older, wiser version of themselves made learning easier to stomach. In any case, Triela was the bad cop, in the hierarchy, from Hilshire's observations, but also the model for what all the other girls wanted to grow up to be. Sure, Henrietta and Rico pretty fun to work with, but they aren't praised as the best ever. That mystique belonged to Triela alone. Thus, when he found Triela gossiping, and generally being the center of attention, he had to find out the reason. "Triela, what's so interesting?"

Quicker on the draw than Triela, Claes cut off her friend before she could respond. "Nothing too much. Just talking about extremely good looking men."

"Ah. Jean will never understand that at heart, you're still teen aged girls. No amount of conditioning would stop you from swooning over movie stars." Hilshire had his question answered, but he was still nagged by a strange sensation that something was not quite right. He ignored it, and, went back to continue with his research.

He asked around, called in favors, and, after a long day's work, he had found the mysterious Section III, the new government force on the political intrigue scene, as well as a way to contact them. Mailing from his Section II address, he, as discreetly as he could, asked if he could drop by, to see what was going on, and perhaps give some advice from his time in Section II. The e-mail response he received was terse, but generally positive. He would be allowed to see the facilities the next day, and would generally be shown what they wanted to show him, but only because he was already a trusted agent.

Hilshire thought that Section III's facilities matched up well with his own unit's. He was paraded through things that he just assumed that any unit would have, before being shown the main attraction. The young man who had been leading Hilshire around introduced himself as "Jan, exterminator extraordinaire."

Hilshire hadn't thought it would be this easy to find his mark. Dumb luck, he supposed was very helpful from time to time. He had to confirm, though. "Jan, was it? Were you ordered to kill Benito Medici, at any time?"

"I don' t think I'm allowed to tell you. I trust you, but not that much."

"A different question, then. Have you met a cyborg, within the last couple of days, with blond pigtails and an automatic shotgun?"

"You're from section II?"

"Indeed."

"Then, yeah, I think I met one of your girls. Triela, or something. Quite the looker, too."

"I've always told her she looked good in a suit."

"Ah, but I think I've told you too much already. Let's move on with the tour, Hilshire. I do hope you've been impressed by what I've shown you, so far."

"Only a few short questions. I've always been told over at Section II that young girls received the conditioning and cyborg treatments best. Yet, here I am, walking with a male cyborg."

"Ah. The doctors practically drilled this answer into me. Male cyborgs receive fewer implants, but we make up for it in that our bodies are stronger naturally. Like, all of us are the people who scored really, really high on the aptitude and physical tests administered to orphans, so we can handle the strain better than most, unlike your girls who were terminal cases to start with, for one reason or another."

"And conditioning? You're like Triela—you hardly seem to show it."

"Don't have real conditioning. I never had a handler, though from what I've heard, we are a little bit conditioned in the way you're talking about. In fact, I'm just conditioned the old fashioned way–a thousand push-ups for disobeying orders."

"Do you remember your old life?"

"It's...sort of a blur. I know I didn't have parents. I remember some faces, almost. But I don't know enough to say for sure where I grew up, or who I used to be. I'm a soldier, through and through."

"So at that level, you're just like our girls."

And so, the tour continued. It was more of the same, and while Hilshire was impressed, he had learned what he had come to learn. Now that he had found Jan, and confirmed his identity as a government agent, he could pass it back to the girls, and they would be aware of the new players. As Hilshire prepared to leave, Jan sheepishly asked, "Hilshire, do you know anywhere nice to eat around Trevy Fountain? We don't get out much, and I've got some free time tomorrow, and I wanted to go out into Rome."

Hilshire paused, and rattled off a short list. Jan thanked him profusely, and sent Hilshire on his way.