Chapter 5

01:24 AM, Saturday, 1 January 2017

From: awoijaweohr

Hey Renzol,

It's damn good to hear from you. I understand you didn't want to get into it until now, but let me just say that much. It's damn good to know you're doing better.

As for Liani and the child, I shouldn't be handing out personal information… But to hell with that. They're both alive and well in Johannesburg. I've attached a short report on them along with her email.

Good luck.

-Awo

Nolan scribbled down on his notepad before speaking.

"And why do you think it's so easy being with her?"

Renzol shrugged. "I don't have to explain anything to her."

Shelly knew she was struggling, that there was something in her past that had changed her irrevocably. But not once had she asked Renzol about it.

"When I'm with her, I can almost forget about it all. Being with her is easy."

Nolan nodded and eyed through his notes. "You've talked a lot about your budding friendship with Shelly, but I'd like to ask you this; how does it make you feel, Renzol? When you feel what you call the 'dark waters' rising, has something changed? Or is it the same as before?"

Renzol flinched and clasped her hands together. She dropped her gaze to the floor. "The voice – the Box – is there, every night. It says I let Cell die. That I'm –" Renzol swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut. "That I've replaced her with someone just to make myself feel better." Renzol grit her teeth in frustration. She hated it. The voice, herself, the world. It seemed like it would never end. "I know it's not true! I know it but…"

"Aren't you doing just that, though? Replacing Cell to feel better?"

The words shocked through Renzol and she looked up, eyes full of incredulity. "W-what?" she managed to ask.

"You're seeking a new friendship in order to feel better. That's how humans work. Of course with any relationship you have the added benefit of giving something back to the other person as well. And if things work out it'll become something much greater than the sum of its parts."

Renzol could only stare at Nolan, agape. The psychologist continued.

"You say you know it's not true. Is it?"

Renzol shied away from the gaze that seemed to drill right through her. She closed her eyes and looked inside, past the hurried excuses and barriers she had begun building anew.

Nolan was right. She still blamed herself for Cell's death. Still blamed herself for Frag. Even Hunterhr, despite finishing War and Peace. She had assured herself the symbolic gesture would grant her closure, but it hadn't, not in the slightest. She still blamed herself for it all.

"It's true," Renzol whispered, "I'm a terrible person." She buried her face in her hands. There were no tears, only soul-crushing despair. "How?" she asked, "How am I supposed to get past this?"

"That's what we're here to figure out. That and a lot of time."

The door was already ajar, so Renzol stepped inside.

"Hello?"

"Hey you!"

Shelly leaned over from the living room and gave a small wave with a brush. Her hair was tied back and she wore a big grin and a loose T-shirt stained with hues all the way from dark brown to bright magenta.

"I was just wrapping up. You can drop 'em in the kitchen while I wash up."

Renzol nodded and placed down the shopping bags before hanging her jacket in the hallway rack. Her sleeveless olive drab hoodie left her metal arms exposed, a piece of kit that had quickly become her new favorite for its ease of movement. She breathed deep and summoned the courage she knew still resided within. Her latest session with Nolan still on her mind, she took the bags into the living room.

A plethora of new paintings lined the apartment walls: Landscapes of snowy mountains and tiny cabins, autumn scenes with waterfalls and abandoned barns. An old VHS system was hooked up under the TV and a cardboard box beside it spilled videotapes onto the floor.

"New project? I haven't seen you do landscapes before," Renzol shouted.

The sound of running water from the bathroom halted. "It's what I do when I hit a rut. Bob Ross just mellows me the fuck out, you know?"

The water resumed and Renzol stepped towards the kitchen. She left the bags on the counter and turned to observe the landscapes closer, excited to see what her friend had created. Before she got closer, the ongoing painting on the easel made her stop.

Black-on-white. Sharp edges and jagged corners. The arms and shoulders were all ridges and spikes. The chest armor was impenetrable, and the hands were replaced by a twisted blade and a flamethrower that spat black fire. The helmet formed into a snout with snarling teeth and a mane of carved steel spikes. The lower half of the painting was unfinished below the torso.

There was a crack in the plating along one side of the helmet. A single blue eye stared out of the exoskeleton's depths. It appeared expressionless, but Renzol's mind filled in the emotions.

Hope. Despair.

"Like it?"

Renzol came to with a visible jerk. Shelly stifled a giggle, smiling. Renzol had been too captivated to hear the smaller woman come up behind her. The painting seemed to have the intended effect.

Renzol eyed the painting warily and said, "It's great, but I'm not sure 'like' is the right word."

"Want it?"

Renzol shot her an incredulous look. "You'd just give it to me?"

"If you want it."

Renzol's eyes searched Shelly for honesty before inspecting the painting again. A chill ran down her spine and all the way down her dead legs, prickling at her toes. It wasn't the nightmarish form that unsettled her, but the expression she saw underneath. It was too real. It was her.

"Thanks, but I don't think I could sleep with this in the house."

Shelly laughed and touched a hand to her arm before pulling away to the kitchen. "Sure thing. Let's cook. I'm fuckin' starving!"

Dinner was a simple affair: pasta with soy in tomato sauce and plenty of avocado in the salad, but Renzol enjoyed the simple act of cooking with someone. Sometimes Shelly's energy made Renzol feel clunky and ugly – namely when she put on music and wiggled her hips to the beat – but today wasn't one of those days.

The food was tasty and Shelly's chatter was familiar and welcome filler to go with it. They ate by the counter on bar stools Shelly had bought from Alleyway's that fit the bohemian style of the odd artist's apartment perfectly. They were finishing the wine when Renzol breached the conversation.

"I'm travelling this weekend."

Shelly raised an eyebrow behind her glass. "Oooh, interesting. Where?"

"South Africa."

"Now that's a destination for a holiday." Shelly's eyes lit up with curiosity. "Is it? A holiday?"

"No."

Shelly wheeled her head from side-to-side, contemplating Renzol. "You're not gonna tell me."

It wasn't a question, but Renzol answered anyway. "No. Maybe someday."

Shelly nodded. "Fair enough. Not knowing is kinda fun anyway. Results in all sorts of things," she said, gesturing towards the easel.

The rest of the week crawled by agonizingly slow. Renzol's nights were full of restless sleep and phantom pains, and her days were riddled with anxiety and trepidation. But despite all the hardships, she remained determined. She had promised Cell she'd find her daughter. Would it give her peace of mind? Renzol didn't know, but she also didn't care. She owed it to her.

You're only doing it to make yourself feel better, the cold voice whispered. Renzol didn't push it aside. It was her, an undeniable part of her that she would have to live with. The Box. The voice. Herself… it was all one and the same. So she just closed her eyes and accepted the abuse. But she refused to let it break her.

The day of the flight finally arrived. It was Friday, and the O'Hare International Airport ebbed and flowed to the beat of the approaching weekend. A connecting flight would take her to JFK in New York where she would board a plane headed for Johannesburg. She felt clumsy and unnatural walking across the open asphalt and towards the sliding glass doors. She was tall, and her movements must have looked unnatural. What if security decided she was suspicious? Would they believe the veterans ID she had in her wallet? Or would they decide letting a half-roboticized human on the plane was too much of a risk?

Let them try. I'm going to Johannesburg so let them goddamn try. The thought spurred her on, and she headed straight for the counter. She only had a small bag with a change of clothes with her; she wasn't planning on staying long. She checked in at the desk and got her boarding pass before heading for the security check.

Her turn came all too soon. She placed her bag inside a bin and when a uniformed man with a thick mustache beckoned to her, she handed over her passport and boarding pass.

"It's going to sound," Renzol said, nodding towards the metal detector.

"Empty your pockets then," the security answered in a voice dulled with routine before giving back her passes.

Renzol braced herself. The moment of truth. She rolled back her sleeve, and the man's eyes widened.

"I have ID," Renzol said, "Can I take it from my pocket?"

The security stared at her metal arm for a while before managing to tear his eyes away and nod. Renzol produced a small laminated card and handed it over. The man observed it carefully and after a while, his frown smoothed over.

"I see. XCOM, huh? My grandpa was a vet. Was there on D-Day." He handed the ID back. "Thank you for your service. Just go around the side. Mike'll check you don't have anything hidden and you're good to go."

Relief soared inside Renzol's chest, leaving her feeling light as a feather. She thanked the man and headed towards Mike, a nervous looking man no doubt serving his first month at airport security.

She stood patiently through the inspection as Mike's hands patted her down, and the pause when he reached her legs almost made her laugh. The young security looked helplessly towards the man with the mustache who just motioned for him to get on with it. Mike muttered a confused apology and let Renzol through. She took her bag and left the checkpoint and before long, she was high above ground.

It's so different from the Skyranger, she thought, gazing out the window at the scenery rapidly growing more and more distant. She let out a sigh and leaned back in her seat. I wonder how they're going to feel about this?

Cell's sister had seemed apprehensive in the email, but had said she wanted Renzol to come. As for the child… Renzol didn't really know anything about little Jamball. Well, she wouldn't be that little anymore at ten years old.

She never even met her mother. Wonder how she'll take the news.

Renzol looked out the window again. The towns and cities below looked like they belonged to ants. It was a good reminder of how insignificant all their lives really were in the grand scheme of things. Yet she was on her way halfway across the world anyway, on behalf of someone already gone. It couldn't be insignificant. Renzol grasped onto the thought, holding it tight.

After I see Jamball, I'll officially know more about her than Cell ever did. The thought made her sad. It wasn't the soul-crushing depression she had gotten used to; she was simply sad. She closed her eyes and laid her head against the window.

Renzol arrived in Johannesburg just after noon. The sun was up, and the temperature felt tropical after chilly Chicago. The winter coat went right into her bag, leaving her wearing a gray sweater. It was too hot, but she decided she'd soldier through it. She wouldn't bare her arms here.

She had told Liani she would come visit right after her arrival, and the flight had been on time.

Here we go then. She stepped to the sidewalk where a line of taxis was waiting. Now that she was in South Africa the trepidation had disappeared. Only one thing left to do.

The taxi she took smelled like air fresheners, and the black man behind the wheel wore a bright smile.

"English?" he asked in a thick accent that ate the entire word.

"Yes." Renzol leaned forward from the back seat and offered him a piece of paper. "This address."

The driver looked at the paper before smiling again, baring rows of white teeth. "Ah, yes. I drive I drive."

The city of Johannesburg had recovered admirably following the months of alien occupation. Downtown and the surrounding metropolitan area were dotted with newly completed architectural marvels while construction continued in parts of the city. The most notable in its absence were the trees. For a city that had once been called a rain forest, the lack of green was unsettling. The saplings planted after the war would take a long time to grow.

Everything about the city seemed to scream we're past it! Renzol wondered how well that façade would hold up if you scratched the surface a little. How much corruption still remained? How many lives had been changed by the occupation, never to return to normal, no matter how many new seeds were planted?

The taxi cruised over the newly paved roads and into the suburban area on the edge of town. The houses were well maintained but not luxurious, very much the same as the middle-income areas Renzol had seen in the US. The taxi turned at another intersection before coming to a halt by the side of the road.

"We here," the driver announced with his wide smile.

Renzol answered with a generous stack of South African rands. The man nodded approvingly and thanked her in the accent Renzol had grown somewhat fond of. She returned the thank you and climbed out of the taxi.

The sun bore down on her relentlessly. The lawn before the house was green and well maintained, and a cobblestone path led up to the door. Liani had told her she was living with some of her relatives, but there would be no one else home today. Renzol took a deep breath and walked up to the door.

She rang the doorbell. The following eight or so seconds were the longest of her life and after what seemed like an eternity, the lock turned. The door opened to reveal a white woman in her early thirties, dark hair pulled into a ponytail. The areas around her eyes and mouth were wrinkled past her age. She was as tall as Renzol, and the rough line of her jaw and cheekbones made the resemblance undeniable.

Renzol couldn't manage a word. She was the spitting image of Cell.

"Hey? Are you Renzol?"

The greeting brought Renzol back. She made eye contact and most of the similarities faded away. The woman's tired eyes were full of poorly masked grief.

"Yes, sorry. I'm Renzol." She offered her hand.

"Liani," the woman said and took her hand, doing a double take as she grasped the cool synthetic. Renzol had told her about it in the mail, but she had expected the reaction nonetheless. She was already growing used to it.

"Excuse me. I'm sure you get that all the time. Please, come in," Liani said and stepped inside.

A long hallway covered by a brown carpet reached into the house. At the end, a drawer stood against the wall. A large picture of Cell was in the middle of it, surrounded by fresh flowers. The picture was old, from before she left home; she couldn't have been older than seventeen. A lump materialized in the back of Renzol's throat and her eyes prickled.

"Do you want coffee? Tea?"

"Coffee is fine," Renzol answered, doing her best to keep her voice from cracking.

Liani led her into a yellow-paneled kitchen. The floor was covered by colorful carpets, and a large old table stood in the middle. Renzol sat down while Liani worked on the coffee. The silence between them stretched on as the coffee machine rumbled and the welcoming aroma of coffee enveloped them.

How do I even begin? Renzol thought. Liani leaned against the counter with her back turned, waiting for the coffee to finish with reverence that would've seemed comical if not for the situation. Renzol realized she must be thinking the exact same thing. It eased her anxiety.

Liani finally poured out the black liquid into mugs and placed cream on the table. She sat opposite Renzol and seemed to make spooning sugar take a lifetime. Just as Renzol was about to clear her throat, Liani spoke up.

"You… knew my sister?"

"Yes. She was a—," she fumbled over the pause, articulate words immediately failing her, "a good friend." Renzol kicked herself. She hadn't managed to put her feelings into words at all.

"Was she happy? With her… work?"

The question made Renzol blink. "Yes, I believe so." She felt like an idiot. Was that really all she could say? She felt like she needed to offer proof, some tidbit of evidence that would assure Cell had been happy. A quote maybe, or a profound story.

Liani scrubbed her face. "She mentioned her work in her letters, but I don't know. It gets so hard. When you don't see someone for eight years, you start to doubt yourself. Do I even know her anymore?"

"Foul-mouthed, cocksure, doesn't take shit from anyone. That's the Cell I knew."

Liani's jaw dropped. She stared at Renzol for a while before bursting into laughter. The fit was frantic and over quickly but it made Renzol smile nonetheless.

"Ok. That's definitely my sister."

"I really admired her. I wanted to be like her."

The silence returned and the two of them drank their coffee. It was Liani who broke the silence again.

"Did she talk about us? Did she ever talk about little Jam?"

Renzol swallowed. This was it. "Not much. It was after the series of hits on South Africa in May. I think… I think it was the only thing she was afraid of. That something bad would happen to you. She wanted to protect you but once South Africa left the Council, we stopped responding to attacks in this area."

Liani nodded. Her eyes were red, firmly fixated on the table. "And how did she…" Her voice trailed off, unable to finish the question.

"They hit our base. Tried to take us all out with a direct assault. It was –" Renzol closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Memories of dark metal corridors and flickering emergency lights flooded her mind.

She cleared her throat. "Cell was in the first line of defense. She took a bad hit but refused to give in. She saved a lot of lives. I tried to make it in time but I – I couldn't save her."

Renzol clasped a hand over her mouth. If she hadn't gone training before the attack, if she had left the engineers behind, if she had been faster to kill the enemy on her way… the infinite possibilities of what could have been chased themselves around and around in maddening circles inside her head.

"I'm sorry," Liani said.

Renzol shook her head. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be at all. She swallowed back the tears. "You know Daishi?"

Liani nodded uncertainly. "Yes."

"Cell died in her arms. Afterwards, Daishi told me she said something. 'I couldn't protect you'." Renzol forced herself to meet Liani's eyes. "She meant you and Jamball. She loved her daughter. She wanted to come back after the war. But she was afraid Jamball wouldn't want her anymore."

Liani cried. It was violent and heartbreaking, but Renzol sensed a sort of relief from her. Unlike herself, Liani must have started dealing with Cell's death months ago. Renzol hoped this was the last thing she needed to be at ease. Wanting to give her privacy, Renzol looked away. That's when she noticed the girl by the door.

She stood in the hallway, peering into the kitchen. Round cheeks framed by dark hair and a pair of serious eyes.

Liani noticed the look and followed Renzol's eyes. She wiped away the tears and called to her niece, "Jam, come here. We have a guest. A friend of your mother's."

The girl stepped into the kitchen. She walked to the table and stopped, never saying a word. Renzol looked from her to Liani. The woman gave her the go-ahead with a nod, and Renzol slid off her chair. She crouched in front of Jam and offered her hand, palm up.

"Hey. I'm Renzol," she said.

Jam didn't answer, only stared at her hand. She reached and lifted her sleeve. Cold metal stretched on under it.

"What happened to your arm?" Jam asked, her voice oddly serious for a small child.

"I was in an accident," Renzol lied. Not entirely a lie, a thought echoed inside. "Listen, I have something to tell you. It's about your mom."

Renzol waited for Jam to acknowledge her, but the girl just kept staring at her arm. She let go of the sleeve and touched the metal. Renzol could swear she felt the slightest of tickles.

"Your mom… she loved you. She wanted to come back."

Jam pulled her hand away, but that was all the reaction Renzol got. Her small face was unreadable. Renzol sighed and stood up. Liani looked from her niece to Renzol, heartbreak in her eyes. But the smile that rose to her lips was thankful.

"Thank you, Renzol. Thank you for coming."

Renzol nodded. "I think I should leave now."

"I think that's for the best."

"Goodbye."

"All the best to you."

The front door closed behind her, and Renzol leaned against its hard surface. She closed her eyes and wondered. Wondered how exactly the news she had delivered would affect Jamball's life. Would she forget about it, burying it deep inside her subconscious? Would she resent Cell for never coming home? Would she cherish her memory, knowing her mother had died fighting for her family and a free Earth?

There was only one thing she knew for sure. Even though her own heart was still broken and bleeding, the lightness that came with it made her feel ecstatic. Something wet streaked down her face, and Renzol touched her cheeks in wonder. She was crying. But for the first time in forever, it wasn't because of despair.

She was healing.