MEANWHILE IN ITALY

A Gunslinger Girl fanfiction, based on works by Yu Aida.

Author's note: These next couple of chapters tie in directly with my previous writing in "And the Adventure Continues", notably chapters 09 and 10 of that story. While the main plot arc is carried there rather than here, I hope this will make an interesting alternate perspective.

Thanks to Kiskaloo for the continued loan of Michele and Kara, MP5 for Allison, Elfen Magix for Rachel, and Professor Voodoo for Marisa.

CH11 - Strangers From a Strange Land (Part 01)

Rifle case in one hand, smaller trolley bag trailing from the other's grasp, Kara made her way up aged steps to the cyborg dorm's colonnade, its warm lights pushing shadows out into the night from each weathered pillar. Reaching the top she paused, feeling her suitcase's wheels bounce one final time to rest upon stone at her heels. This was not everything of course, her larger bag and evening gown remained in Michele's car, having been classified as too much to carry back in one trip. That was okay though: she didn't much feel like unpacking tonight anyway, and it wasn't like she didn't have other things to wear. Her handler could drop them by in the morning.

Besides, she had news to deliver.

Lifting her long bassoon case to help stifle a yawn, the girl slouched along rows of columns standing silent guard, then up another step to brush past the entryway notice board and into the dorm foyer, door held with a foot to squeeze the trailing luggage in with her before it swung closed again. Already gone was the large Christmas tree which had formerly resided there, leaving the space feeling strangely empty without its festive presence, cleared away in a fast return to business as usual.

Its demise did however give her a good view of the shadowy form approaching from the first gens' hallway.

It was late enough for corridor lights to have been dimmed now and, as the silhouette stepped into the glow entering through glass doors from outside, it resolved itself into the slender form of her mission's point girl.

"Welcome back, Kara."

Pausing for a moment to place her rifle case down before beginning to strip off gloves and coat, the Asian featured cyborg glanced up. "Hi Chiara, I see you made it back safe then."

That got a nod in reply. "Mhmm."

"How long ago did you get in?"

The younger girl blinked, before glancing at her watch. "About an hour; Henrietta came straight back, but Gaetano had to go and retrieve his car."

"How is 'Etta?"

"She is in the medical wing being fixed up, nothing major."

There was another silence as conversation once more fizzled out, and in it Kara finished removing her coat, placing it with her other no-longer required garments over one arm. That Chiara had only arrived recently did not surprise her: Mr. Manfredi was often one of the last back from any group mission, but his cyborg did not seem to mind.

Arranging stacked clothing a little less awkwardly, Kara once more picked up her remaining belongings. "I see Monty's in too."

Her opposite's expression became more interested at that. "She is?"

"Yes... or, I presume she is; I saw Mr. Blacker's car in the car park."

"That's good. Do you think we'll see her this time?"

"Maybe if you visit the refectory early enough." Stifling another yawn, the elder cyborg turned for the stairs. "Anyway, I'm going to head for bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Kara."

Climbing to the first landing, the faint sound of knuckles on wood wafted up from the ground floor, and she smiled to herself: Chiara was quiet, but reliable, and could be counted on to spread the word amongst the first generations on her behalf.

The remainder of her journey passed in a haze of tired footfalls. Frankly the small case could probably remain packed as well, once she had her toiletries out of it for a shower of course... and she still had to clean the rifle.

Rifle first, she did not want to go to bed smelling of gun oil; at least Raych should be around to talk to and help her stay awake.

Reaching their door to their shared quarters, Kara knocked once, then pushed the wood panel open and paused. The space beyond was empty, her roommate absent, that she had not expected: Raych very rarely went anywhere on her own initiative, and her handler was still away. Eyes flicking across the room's contents, the cyborg's gaze settled on its other tenant's desk. The dog she had been given was also absent, so she probably wasn't just in the shower either.

If Raych had gone somewhere of her own accord, then maybe getting her involved in Christmas had helped after all.

Either way, she still did not feel like stripping her DSR-1 down without company. Glancing around once more, Kara ditched her suitcase and retreated back to the corridor, turning instead for Allison's room.

It was only a short trip and, knocking again on solid, painted wood, she waited for a reply before pushing her way inside.

"Evening all."

As the chorus of greetings rolled back, she quickly discovered where Raych had disappeared to. Now sitting in what was seemingly becoming her accustomed spot, she remained back to the blank television set, clutching her white dog, with Marisa and Allison perched on the latter's bed.

"Petra's still not in?"

On the duvet, Allison shook her head. "No, she's here, I think she's down in Soni's room."

"I'll go say hi later." The visitor held up her case. "Allie, do you mind if I...?"

"Knock yourself out."

Now her own roommate looked up. "Umm, thank you for the gift too, Kara."

"No problem, merry Christmas."

Taking a seat against Petra's bed, the girl began to undo rose-gold clasps holding her rifle's disguise closed.

"That looks expensive."

Glancing at her roommate once more, Kara's gaze moved back to the shimmering weave protected behind clear resin in her hands, fine texture causing light to flit this way and that over the surface when it moved.

"It is. They make them from carbon fibre," she tapped her arm, "same stuff your bones are constructed from... though this is probably prettier than what the doctors use for cyborg skeletons."

"Only the best for Michele Pagani's cyborg."

"Well... yes," now she glanced at Allison, from whom the comment had come, "we're operating in very risky environments, so of course Michele is going to buy the best."

There was a moment's silence as the other girl paused, mouth open as if about to respond. Then she shut it again.

"Of course... enough of that though, tell us about the mission."

Now Marisa sat up. "Yeah, tell us about that!"

Raych's head also swivelled around and, extracting the broken down components of her rifle to begin cleaning them, Kara cleared her throat.

"Well, the first night was a black tie gala..."

"Which car did you take?"

"Michele brought the FF."

"He knows how she packs."

Ignoring Marisa's snide comment, she forged on. "...black tie gala. You should see the ballroom at the St Regis: inlaid floors, frescoed ceilings, Roman pillars capped in gold and mirrored down two sides, it's beautiful. There was a string quartet and they were playing as we arrived on the red carpet, and Renato greeted us personally..."

Still seated before the television set, Raych listened with rapt attention as her senior talked, drinking in every detail, clutching Dog tighter. One day, one day that would be her, wearing a pretty dress, being greeted by the Prime Minister... Danilo wearing a tuxedo, being important, doing something important. The other girls had been nice, and if she hadn't needed to be afraid of them, what else had she been afraid of that she need not have been?

She had not needed to be afraid. One day, that would be her.

"...I didn't see much after Mr. Croce and Mr. Manfredi arrived, but Chiara bagged two more, and I think Henrietta got one as well."

Who was Chiara?

"I saw her around before," Marisa piped up, "haven't seen 'Etta though."

"She's probably still in the hospital..." leaving it free of its case, Kara snapped the last part of her rifle back into place before checking the action, "...Monty too."

"Monty's here?"

Attention turning to her newest sister, the Asian featured girl nodded. "Mr. Blacker's car was in the car park, so I presume she's back on campus."

"But why in the hospital? Is she okay?"

"The Blackers hate being here, and Monty only comes back to the compound for one of two reasons," put in Allison, "either so she can use the hospital, or because they've been ordered to return. It would have been a while since her last visit..."

"Haven't seen her since Monaco," added Marisa.

"That would make it about three or four months at least."

"...so she's probably about due for a check up. I would say then it's routine."

Now Raych looked between her companions. "Do you know when she gets out? I would like to meet her."

"Are you sure about that? Monty's not exactly... sociable."

Turning to the room's owner, Raych nodded. Or course she wanted to meet Monty, she wanted to ask questions, to find out about those exotic sounding places with exotic sounding names she had read about. She had thought the other girls were scary too, but they had been really nice, surely this could be no different.

"Yes, I am sure. Which room is hers?"

"None of them here, she doesn't stay in the cyborg dorm."

"She does not?"

"No, she stays in the handlers' accommodation block."

The handlers' accommodation; that meant she slept where Danilo slept. At that thought, Raych felt a little pang of jealousy run through her.

"Why?"

"Uhh... because Monty loathes us?"

"Marisa." Removing a half-hearted glare from the younger girl, Kara tilted her head back, looking up contemplatively. "Michele says she's given a bed over there because you can't access the Agency network from the cyborg dorm... plus, since she's generally abroad, I guess it's probably easier just to put her up in a spare room like a regular visitor, rather than assign her a permanent billet."

"And since she doesn't do anything with the rest of us cyborgs, there's no point in her staying here anyway, so she might as well sleep near her handler," finished Allison. "If you want to meet her, probably the only certain way of catching her would be to visit the hospital."

Raych's shoulders drooped. "That is off limits to us though, isn't it?"

"Well, technically it isn't, I mean, we all have to spend time there by ourselves right? Claes goes too..." now the other tilted her head over to match gazes, "...but they don't exactly encourage cyborgs going by themselves if that's what you mean."

"And even if the building itself isn't off limits, most of what's inside is," added Kara, "so if you're caught wandering about without good reason..."

"I think we should take Raych down there." Marisa's voice cut through the rest of the conversation, and three sets of eyes swivelled to look at the young red head.

"I think we should," she repeated. "Raych wants to meet Monty, and once Monty disappears in with the grownups she's got no chance... and we wouldn't technically be doing anything wrong..."

"Umm." Raych looked down at the floor and squeezed Dog tighter. She did not want to get in trouble, did not want to disappoint Danilo, but...

"Don't worry Raych, it'll be fine. All we need to do is come up with a good enough excuse to be there." Marisa looked around the room again. "We're four smart girls; I'm sure between us we can come up with something."

Breath crystallising in chilly morning air, Kara ran her eyes up the medical wing's brutal concrete facade, before looking around at her three compatriots.

"You all have your IDs right?"

Two affirmatives came back immediately, Raych rooting around in one pocket to produce the plastic card before adding her own voice to their chorus.

"Good... let's go then."

Suddenly feeling horribly exposed, the richly attired girl led her little column of friends up the hospital's steps and through air-locked front doors into its warm interior. Pausing on chequered floor tiles to strip off heavy coat and beanie, she took a moment to scan the area, before putting on her most endearing smile and heading for the security checkpoint.

"Hi, we're here to see Monique Blacker."

Leaning back in his seat, the solitary guard looked her up and down as clomping boots signalled the others' arrival in her wake.

"And why would you need to see Ms. Blacker?"

Oh good, she was here.

Digging in a pocket, Kara extracted a small black box, opening it up to display two shiny, if slightly large, stainless steel cufflinks.

"She left these on Michele's boat in Monaco, we were going to return them to her."

"All four of you?"

"Umm... yes?" She recovered quickly. "They're not just cufflinks, they're a bit more than that."

Passing her coat back to Allison, the girl extracted one metal square, before separating its halves to reveal the flash drive concealed within. "They've been wiped, but I was told to return them in person."

The guard looked unimpressed. "And you can't return them later? Or your handler can't?"

"You know how difficult Monty can be to track down; at least here we know where she is."

That got a wry snort, followed by a shrug. "True enough... hand over your IDs."

There was a mad rustling as cards were produced, the guard briefly studying each individual picture before scanning the girls through one at a time, holding Kara's pass slightly longer whilst he punched something into the computer terminal before him. Allowing their final party member through prior to returning it, he twisted in his seat to eye each hard in turn. "In and out quickly alright? I've given Kara temporary access down to Recovery, but don't go wandering off anywhere you're not wanted."

"Yes, sir."

Heart thundering, Kara beat a hasty retreat down the corridor before the man could change his mind, group huddled tight together as they followed.

Beside her, Allison leaned closer, and her voice was a whispered hiss. "Do we know which room she's in?"

The other girl shook her head. "No, but she'll have been in surgery, so she's got to be in one of the recovery rooms right? 'Etta got out last night, so it should be the only one occupied."

Reaching the lift at the corridor's end, four girls waited impatiently for its car to arrive. Stepping in behind her friends, Raych looked on nervously as her senior tapped her card against a box on the wall, which beeped, before hitting a basement button. She wasn't feeling so sure about this idea now. It had all seemed so simple the previous night, with the other three planning together such that even a stern caution thrown at them by... Rachel, she though the name had been... had not been able to dampen her spirits: of course they would be okay. They were not doing anything wrong by the rule book, and they did have reason to be here: an actual, proper reason, thanks to some previous encounter of Kara's.

Now however, as the elevator groaned slowly downwards, she was not so sure.

A room in the handlers' block, Agency network... whatever that was... access: Monty sounded important, and special, and that made her at the same time both terrifying and fascinating.

Bouncing to a halt, the lift car's doors opened, disgorging its passengers into a well lit, concrete lined hall. Dark grey vinyl flooring gave way to white walls at the black scuff plate, a wide scarlet stripe running parallel to it down the length to double doors in either direction.

"Recovery should be... up here."

Dropping her pointing hand to lead off along the corridor, Kara touched her ID again against another mounted box and, from the doors, came the heavy clunk of bolts retracting so she could push their slow mass open. Beyond stretched another similarly marked hall, but with its walls peppered by openings: doors arranged in neat pairs, one closed, one open, a tall number painted on vertical concrete beside the latter. Letting the solid panel swing shut again as she followed the others through, Raych waited as they surveyed the area, until finally Allison pointed.

"Six has its door shut, she must be in there," she turned around. "Go on Raych."

The younger cyborg froze, was she supposed to go in first? She hadn't thought of that...

"Umm... maybe one of you should knock first, I mean, she knows you does she not?"

Marisa grinned. "It won't make a difference who goes in first, she'll still be mad."

"But..."

"No buts, you were the one who wanted to meet Monique Blacker."

Realising that there was no way out, their newest sister started slowly forward, taking her place at the head of the procession until it reached recovery room six. Standing before its door, she took one last look back at her co-conspirators, eyes resting finally on Kara, who gave her a little nod and smile.

Tentatively she knocked.

Nothing, silence... maybe Monty was not here after all. She glanced back again, and this time it was Marisa who gave her an encouraging nod. She was just starting to raise her hand for a second attempt when a voice spoke from inside.

"Enter."

It was a smooth voice, rounded at the edges and tinged with an accent she had not heard before. Twisting the door knob, she pushed the panel open to peek around its frame.

The room beyond was familiar enough, she had woken up in a room like this, she had met Danilo in a room like this; it was a room with good memories, though this one had a few additions she did not recall. One was the roll away table, a tray of empty crockery rested upon it, another the television on a wheeled stand, apparently turned on as, though she could not see the screen, voices emanated from it, echoing off hard walls.

The third of course, was the girl now eyeing her from the bed.

"Umm... are you Monique Blacker?"

One slim eyebrow went up. "Yes?"

"Oh, good."

Right person, that was a start. Suddenly feeling slightly more confident, Raych stepped fully into the doorway, looking harder at this girl she had heard so much about: fine facial features were framed by short, warm-brown hair which curved forward of her ears to end below large, heavy-lidded eyes. Lower down, rising above white sheets, simple cotton pyjamas covered her slender frame, their shirt's V-neck descending just low enough to let the faintest hint of breast peep above its line. Even so plainly dressed, she was very pretty, and suddenly Raych felt her own appearance to be horribly ordinary.

Still, she was here now.

"Everyone says you spend most of your time travelling the world."

"What of it."

The words were flat, hard, but now that she was going, Raych could not have stopped, even had she wanted to. "Well, I was wondering... what's it like? Have you had any exciting missions or gone anywhere really interesting?"

There was another pause, and the seated girl seemed to sigh.

"You're new aren't you."

Again the words were flat, a statement rather than a question, and Raych felt what little remained of her previous confidence melt away. "Yes, umm... yes."

"Then let's be clear right now: I don't talk about what I do unless you have some specific, job-related, reason to know. Otherwise, see Ferro; she has all our reports and will be able to filter out what you can and cannot see." The bed-detained cyborg's eyebrows arched again, voice rising slightly, and Raych realised she was suddenly no-longer the subject of attention: rather being looked through to the corridor beyond. "I assume the others put you up to this."

"Umm."

"Come on, I know there's at least a few of you back there."

How had she known that?

From behind the suddenly paralysed girl came a skittering of feet, and hushed voices.

"We could run." "And leave Raych by herself?" "You two can stay if you like." "Us two? You were the one pushing to come down in the first place." "Well, you first then."

Finally more footsteps sounded, and a wave of relief washed over her as more shapes appeared in her peripheral vision.

At their arrival however, Monty looked even less impressed than before.

"Marisa, Kara and Allison: the three stooges, I should have known," then she paused to stab an accusing finger at Raych herself. "But tell me: just what, is that?"

"Monty, this is C. Raych," that was Kara's voice, "general combat and rapid response, she's..."

"Cee?" The interjection cut that sentence off halfway.

"For 'cyborg'..." mumbled the girl in question, looking down at her feet. She was going to be in trouble, she knew she was, and she had managed to make Monty mad. Feeling herself drowning, she grasped at the one rock she had. "Danilo says..."

"Raych's new," Allison cut across her mumbled words, "she just wanted to put a face to a name."

"And so you all decided to tag along and see what happened."

"We did not!"

"I did!"

"Marisa!"

"No, of course not: you snuck in here, unsupervised, and risked a bollocking from your handlers because you're all such nice new friends."

But they had come along because they were her friends, hadn't they? She would never have made it down here by herself, not without their encouragement.

"Triela comes in here by herself." Kara sounded quieter now.

"Triela is senior cyborg..."

"...and unlike some uses her brain for more than just preventing her ears from banging together."

Raych suddenly realised she was once more being looked through in favour of something more interesting and, at the sound of that new voice, her heart sank all the way through the floor. This was just one big catastrophe wasn't it? Everything she touched seemed to end in disaster. She should have known better.

"Ms. Ferro." Her roommate's voice was a squeak.

Turning slowly against the dread welling up within her, she found Ferro standing back in the hall, a computer like Kara's tucked under one arm and a case of some sort in the other hand.

The support manager's expression was just as unimpressed as that of the girl in bed opposite.

"I take it there is some reasonable explanation as to why you four are here without supervision?"

"Uhh... Monty's supervising us!" That was Kara again.

There was a pause as the woman looked across the arrayed miscreants' heads at their supposed supervisor, then back again, before repeating the process once more for effect.

"Of course she is. All of you can wait in the foyer for me."

Still frozen to the spot, Raych felt arms grab her, hurrying her out into the corridor. Looking left then right she found Allison and Kara on either side, dragging her bodily between them, with Marisa farther out on the latter's flank. Finding her own feet, their grasp relaxed as she touched down to scurry along as well.

Slowing for the double doors, her head drooped. "Sorry."

"For what?" The words came from Allison.

"For getting you all in trouble."

"That's ok, this is nothing" pulling ahead, Marisa grinned back at her, "you should have seen the time when there was this excavator..."

"She's not very nice is she?"

"Who, Ferro or Monty?"

"Umm... Monty. I thought she would be... nicer. Everyone else is nice."

"She can be okay if she knows you, but generally..."

"Well... Monty's not exactly 'everyone else'." Raych's head turned in Kara's direction as a hint of bitterness again crept into the other girl's voice. "Michele seems to like her; he says she reminds him of people he met during the Cold War."

The younger cyborg's eyebrows rose. "The what war?"

"The Cold War: a war that sort of never happened, but was always just on the verge of breaking out between the West, mostly the United Sates, and the Soviet Union. Each was ready to wipe the other out if they even blinked, so the spy game was a very dangerous one to play..."

"And that made Monty like... that?"

"Sort of, she plays the same game, by the same rules..."

"I think she just believes we're all stupid." Put in Allison sourly.

As they reached the elevator, Kara waved her hands vaguely in front of herself, as if trying to pluck words out of the air.

"Monty is... Monty. She's not really one of us..." then she gave a small smile, "...though sometimes she is what we wish we could be."

"Speak for yourself."

It was a very silent ride back up to the ground floor, and subsequent shuffle to the foyer. Standing with the others while they awaited Ferro's return, Raych looked down at the black and white patchwork beneath her feet. She really had messed up hadn't she? Even if everyone else was here with her, she had messed up. What would become of her now? Would she be punished? Would they tell Danilo? She hoped Danilo would not find out, she did not want him to know of her failure, that she had done wrong. He would be disappointed with her, and there would be nothing she could do. What would he do if he found out? Maybe, if she was lucky, he would not.

Finally, those thoughts still swirling around in her head, the dejected cyborg saw Ferro appear, shooting the guard manning his station a glare before marching over to the waiting line of offenders.

Standing before them, she let silence reign for a few more seconds, before starting to talk. "I'm sure you all know what you have done wrong."

There was a mumbled chorus of affirmatives.

"I would have hoped that some of you older girls would know better than to be in the medical wing unsupervised."

"But there's nothing in the rules that says..."

"Allison, I recommend you remain silent." There was another pause, then the woman sighed. "You are, however, correct: there is no specific rule that says you are not to enter the hospital on your own, just opinion and precedent..."

Raych felt hope rise: if there was no rule, then maybe she would be okay.

"...which is why I will be leaving it to your handlers to deal with this as they see fit."

After that little ray of light, the floor being torn out from beneath her feet was all the more sickening.

"I will walk you to the dorm, but consider yourselves confined to quarters until your handlers come to find you."

So much for Danilo not finding out.

Stripped of its last warm, autumnal tones, the Italian countryside lay well and truly under winter's cruel blanket, its monotone vista of grey trees and rocks broken only by the occasional conifer adding a dash of much needed colour. Trundling along the road from coastal flatlands into the hills, Danilo's black Lexus hatchback did little to help brighten the scene.

According to the dashboard, outside was barely above freezing, but inside, the handler fumed: just what the fuck had Raych been thinking? It wasn't exactly secret information that unattended cyborgs were not welcome in the hospital. He had thought the things were supposed to do what they were told, not go charging off of their own accord. Someone had fucked that particular bit of engineering up right there, and apparently the brain that error had allowed to run unchecked was none too bright either.

Rounding another bend, the high stone wall fronting the SWA compound swung into view.

That she had managed to fuck up like this was bad enough, but do so in front of a senior staff member, and a senior cyborg... the girl was just a disaster walking around on two legs. The latter he couldn't really give a shit about, but the former...

Ferro's phone call had not been at all welcome, and the news it delivered even less so. Apparently a few days away and undisturbed were, in fact, an ask beyond both the Social Fucking Welfare Agency and the useless hunk of artificial flesh and plastic it had saddled him with.

At least he had decided one thing from the whole experience: he needed to get off-compound more often, to spend some time in normality, because the place was obviously driving him fucking crazy. Rome had been a godsend: a chance to get away from the SWA's never-ending bad trip and instead start living like a human being again. Of course, some arsehole had started shooting that up as well, so seemingly he wasn't going to win either way.

Halting at the boom gate, he handed over his ID without even looking at the guard, instead glaring ahead at well-groomed conifers lining the Agency's picturesque access road.

Time to start searching for somewhere else to live.

Taking the card back, he started rolling forward before the timber pole was even fully up, along the drive and straight to the cyborgs' block, packed bags still resting in the boot. Slamming the car's door he stomped his way to the dorm and up its three storeys to hurl open his charge's room.

Leaping up from her chair at the noise, C. Raych's dumpy form spun around, expression momentarily brightening.

"Hello, Dan..."

"Shut up."

Her face fell.

"Put your exercise kit on and meet me downstairs."

Without waiting for a response, the handler turned on his heel and stomped back the direction he had come, finally slouching back into his driver's seat. What the hell had he done wrong to get loaded with that? Someone, somewhere, had obviously screwed the pooch, and somehow he had been saddled with the result.

It didn't take long for C. Raych to join him, waiting momentarily, presumably for her door to be opened, before doing so herself and climbing tentatively into the back seat. Barely had she sealed the car again than Danilo slammed his foot down, the hatch's front tyres scrabbling for grip briefly before being reigned in and grinding off down the road.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

The binging seatbelt alarm finally stopped.

"I, umm, I just..."

"Shut up!" Reaching up, Danilo adjusted his mirror so he could glare at the form in the back. "You know the medical wing is off limits, so why the fuck were you down there?"

In the rear seat, his charge cowered. "Umm, the rules don't actually say..."

"I don't fucking care what the rules say! It's pretty common fucking knowledge that cyborgs, that's you by the way in case it had escaped your thick skull, that cyborgs are not to go into the medical wing by themselves! I had hoped for better, that at some point you may get one or two neurons firing on your own, but apparently I was wrong."

He paused, taking a breath.

No voice interrupted the momentary silence, and devoid of some other distraction, one and a half months of frustration and humiliation began to boil to the surface. "You can't fucking shoot, you're still in the obstacle course bottom third... I haven't dared put you in the assault house yet in case you cause a friendly fire incident! But I had at least hoped you could show some common fucking sense Raych! I've defended you, put up excuses for you, but then you go and pull this shit! And not only do you go and fuck up, but you do it in front of a senior staff member and a senior-fucking-cyborg! That's two serious people you've managed to piss off, and now it's all landing back on my shoulders! Who would you like to try next Raych? Jean Croce? Chief Lorenzo? Tell me, because I would really like to know ahead of time!"

Her answer was a sniffle.

"Well?"

"Danilo I'm... Danilo, I'm sorry..." the voice was small, choked out between more sniffs.

"Bullshit! If you were sorry you wouldn't have gone and tried this crap in the first place." Danilo paused again, drawing another breath between gritted teeth. "I've a good mind to have you reconditioned, and I'm sure Ferro and the Blacker girl would second me for that. You're that fucking useless right now it would almost be easier to start again from scratch."

A stifled sob emanated from the rear seat.

"I'm sorry, Danilo, I really am. I didn't mean to... you don't mean that do you?"

"Don't. Try. Me."

Ahead, the familiar sight of the SWA's obstacle course loomed into view. Pulling up just short of it, Danilo glanced again in his mirror to spit the next words.

"Start. Running."

"How... how many laps, sir?"

"Until I tell you to stop."

The back door opened, then closed again and, out of the windscreen he saw C. Raych jog toward the high wooden battlements, tears streaming down her face.