Author's Note: This chapter hovers on the edge of appropriate language for a T or M story, however, the story rating will be remaining the same.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Whiplash
March 19, 2011
"Do 'Feeling Good!'" Missy suggested with genuine enthusiasm.
It took much less cajoling this time, and Fi sang Feeling Good without accompaniment. Her version wasn't quite the song he was used to, but it was more Fi's own style. When she was finished, she glowed, and a glance at the team seemed to indicate that she'd transferred a bit of her own joy to them, just as a good song should.
When she was finished, he clapped with the rest of them. She sat down again, this time leaning back and putting her feet on the table. She looked right at Jason, and gave him a grateful smile. He smiled back, pleased to see her integrating well into the group.
He struggled with his place in the Brockton Bay Ward team, and how Fi's acceptance or distance might influence that place. But the team seemed to be settling together; he had faith that they could become a good unit.
Fi opened the next conversation while the rest of the room was still re-settling. "Enough about me. I've been meaning to ask, and I know we said no work stuff but I've forgotten to ask five or six times now, so Jason, do you know what sort of energy source your previous tinker tech used?"
Jason shrugged. "No. I never did any of the maintenance or upkeep. He tried to explain it to me, but no dice. Why?"
Chris responded, and Fi snagged up a piece of cold pizza, settling back out of the conversation. It didn't surprise Jason. Fi didn't like to be the center of attention, and she'd said a lot about herself already.
"We've been trying to figure out how the same energy source managed a Taser beam and a paralysis effect, but no luck so far. I can do either one on the same chasse, but I can't integrate them. It's been bugging me!"
Taylor perked up immediately. "I haven't heard yet, what's your specialty?"
Chris groaned and Dennis and Dean grimaced in concert. "I don't know," he admitted reluctantly. "Once I figure it out, everything should be a lot easier, but right now I just sort of bounce from project to project trying to figure it all out."
"Well, at least you get a lot of equipment out of it," Taylor offered diplomatically.
"Not exactly," Chris said, but didn't elaborate. Jason glanced at the other guys, waiting for an explanation. He hadn't heard about Chris' problems, although it did seem to be taking a long time for him to build a simple gun.
Dennis finally elaborated. "Chris cannibalizes existing projects for future stuff. Which is great for his timetable when it works, but if the new ideas get stalled or sidetracked, he can end up a bit short changed."
"I've been trying to get complete designs before I start to fix the issue, but…" Chris shrugged, trailing off.
Jason didn't understand the hint, but Taylor did. "Your dyscalculia."
"It's a lot easier to build things than design them."
At that, Taylor's brow furrowed. "Why? If it's a matter of math versus visualization, why can't you just sketch or draw the designs out?"
Chris shrugged again, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. Jason wondered how he could subtly change it, but couldn't come up with anything to say before Chris was answering her. "When I build, it's a lot easier because the project is more constrained. It has to fit the existing power cells, or the articles have to fit on the existing chasse. When it's on paper, there's too many decisions. And yes," he sounded exasperated, "I've tried making a few hard decisions in paper designing and using them as constraints, and no, it doesn't work."
Taylor nodded thoughtfully. Jason felt for Chris, since as a PRT tinker he was required to draft everything before building. Building and then spec-ing was technically illegal, but it sounded like it was the best way for Chris to work.
"What about Gallant's suit?" Taylor mused. "Do you ever use his suit for parts?"
Dean and Chris exchanged looks. "I made him swear not to," Dean said, blushing a little. "I mean, it's his tech but it's my defense, so…"
"But it needs maintenance, right?" she double checked.
"Sure," Chris agreed easily, evidently feeling better talking about his most successful and long-running equipment. "But I just take the parts that are acting up down to the work shop and fix them individually. The whole suit is modular, so it's easy to maintain and upkeep, and it's easy for Dean to get in and out of."
"Modular?" Taylor asked, confused. "Aren't all your things modular?"
Chris looked back at her in equal confusion.
Jason picked up on her train of thought immediately. "She's right, you said you took stuff apart and re-used it. That's what modular means, isn't it?"
Chris was still looking between Taylor and Jason, stunned. Dennis sat forward slowly. "Chris?"
"It's brilliant," he whispered. "Brilliant! Modular systems!" His eyes were a little glazed.
Dennis looked at him for a bit, then pressed, "Kid Win?"
At his other name, Chris seemed to come out of his funk, and a grin slowly grew across his face. "That's my specialty. Modular systems." He was glowing, now.
Jason felt a surge of victory. He shared Chris' grin and then offered him a high five. Taylor held her hand out next, and she got one too. Missy was laughing at them, and Chris started whooping. He grabbed Taylor off the couch and spun her around in a move that wasn't dance so much as just jubilation.
"Does this mean you'll make me my bug carriers?" she teased him, laughing. Chris tripped over his own feet and landed back in his chair, nearly pulling Taylor on top of him. Instead, she overcorrected and had to scramble up from the floor, still giggling.
After another minute of celebration, they had expended what little energy was left. They each somehow found a seat, exhausted by the late hour and the gambit of emotions, but no one was ready to be the first to call it a night.
There was a moment of stillness, then Missy muttered, "You know what, guys? We're pretty awesome."
Taylor laughed breathlessly. "Got that right."
"Damn straight," Jason and Dennis said together. Everyone chuckled a little at that.
The door opened unexpectedly, and Armsmaster walked in, dressed in full battle armor. The way he moved said combat, too.
"Armsmaster?" Clockblocker asked, leaning forward. Everyone sat up, though no one stood.
"What's wrong?" Gallant pressed, and Intrepid knew from his tone that whatever he was seeing in Armsmaster's emotions must be bad.
"We've had an alert of a potential S-class event," Armsmaster informed them grimly. Intrepid felt his heart accelerate, and he glanced at Contract, but he couldn't read any emotion on her face. Whatever her reaction was, she had already locked it down.
"The Slaughterhouse Nine?" Clockblocker asked, but he was clearly confused.
"No." Beetle cut in before Armsmaster could answer. "It's an Endbringer." Intrepid knew he wasn't the only one who glanced back at Contract when he heard that.
For her part, Contract physically flinched, jerking back just so slightly, as her body stiffened. Then she sat fully upright and forcefully leaned forward, as though to refuse to allow herself to retreat.
"The Simurgh may hit Australia sometime in the next twenty-four hours," Armsmaster confirmed Beetle's guess. He turned to look at Contract. "A certain individual contacted Dragon and insisted you be informed immediately."
Contract nodded like this, at least, was expected. "Is Ash still on the line? Can I talk to him?" Intrepid couldn't remember much about Ash. Contract had said that he was the real muscle behind the program that had taken down Sophia. She spoke of him fondly, although she never called him a brother. He was, at the very least, an ally. And evidently, the only candidate that might be calling her during a Simurgh attack.
The TV kicked on, and the screen showed a late-twenties or early-thirties man with long, curly hair, who was sitting in a dimly lit bar or restaurant. There was no one else in the frame, but a woman's voice was talking in the background. The door was barely visible over his shoulder.
"Did you get a schedule guarantee?" the man asked, without greeting.
Contract shook her head ever so slightly. "Sort of. The exact phrase is 'natural attack progression.' So this acceleration was either already in the works, or it's a natural reaction to Behemoth's disappearance. They might be like a hyrda. Cut off one head, two more shall appear."
Ash was nodding along, though he tacked on, "or the creator got pissed."
Contract nodded to concede the point. Intrepid realized, then, what they were talking about. It wasn't just that the Simurgh was attacking, though that was horrible. More importantly, she was attacking weeks early, or maybe months early since there were only two Endbringers now. Unless there weren't just two.
But then, what did they mean by a creator?
"Regardless, can you do anything about it?" Ash pressed, and Intrepid jerked his attention back to the conversation. Focus on the whys later, worry about the idiot putting pressure on his teammate now.
Contract winced but shook her head, and though her tone was frustrated, it could have been because of Ash or because of her helplessness itself. "No. Not preemptively, at least, and I doubt it will change after the fact. Is the city evacuating?"
"Canberra," Ash supplied. "The Prime Minister just issued the order. Ellis is on the phone now."
Contract shook her head again, resigned. For a moment, there was a lull in the conversation while the woman's voice was more audible. Intrepid tried to think of something to say, but his brain was still stuck in a gear somewhere between 'it's a freaking Endbringer attack, and there might be new ones' and 'I'm meeting Contract's friend and he's old.'
Contract was evidently paying attention to the woman, because she asked, amused, "I take it the Compound isn't listening?"
"Not while there's a bullet between them and a book to be packed," Ash said cynically.
"Or a civilian to escort," Contract tacked on.
Ash then jerked the subject to a completely new topic once again. "Christopher swore a blood oath."
Contract didn't seem to react to that in any way, but she did follow up with a question. "Any idea where he is?"
"Last report said Oregon. But it's not as bad as it could be. He stood up in Council and volunteered his own wording. The exact phrase is 'if given reasonable opportunity.' Most of the younger generation followed suit, if they swore anything at all." Intrepid wasn't sure what that meant, but from the way Ash said it, he was guessing it wasn't good.
"Anyone I should worry about?" Contract asked, not sounding worried at all.
"No."
She gave him a sad smile and said quietly, "Thanks for calling."
"Anytime." Considering they hadn't seen each other in months, it was surprisingly calm. Contract's smile grew brittle, and Ash added on, "Find lots of trouble."
Her smile grew a little stronger, and she said, "Be safe."
The door to the bar opened, and the person who entered was backlit so that it was hard to see anything except that he was tall. As he walked up to the bar, the woman's voice in the background paused slightly, and Intrepid could see that the man was dressed in jeans and flannel, and carrying something in his left hand.
"Oh cher, you're no fun." Ash said, leaning forward with a teasing smile. The man was clearly visible in the camera now, looking over Ash's shoulder. Contract huffed in very quiet laughter.
The man's face changed. He looked furious. He was barely two feet away from Ash when he raised his left hand, and the sawed off shotgun came into focus. There was a deafening bang, and the video cut out.
"ASHLAND!" Contract screamed, jumping up, and stepping towards the TV as though she could physically reach out and save him.
Intrepid was on his feet too, mostly from the shock of the noise. Gallant said, "Tag" very, very firmly, and Clockblocker lurched past Beetle, reaching for Contract.
Contract froze.
Gallant was breathing heavily as Intrepid turned towards him, towards Clockblocker, ready to take a swing, but Gallant spoke before he had decided which of the two Wards he was going to hit.
"She just lost the closest emotional connection I've ever seen her display. If he wasn't a parent figure, he wasn't far from it."
"How did she react?" Clockblocker asked, while Intrepid processed that Gallant was both monitoring Contract, and had previously worked out an emergency code-word with Clockblocker.
"Hatred. She had a spike of loathing when he first came on screen, but as soon as he started to lift the gun, she had only fear and hatred. Now her aura's nearly all hatred, with a little horror. Oddly, no denial."
"Is this the Simurgh?" Vista asked, "Could this cause Contract to release Behemoth?"
Intrepid glanced at Vista, who was looking straight back at him, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Taylor's face pale dramatically. He wondered distantly if she'd been briefed.
Then he realized the Wards were all looking at him, waiting for him to speak. He was the one who knew Contract the best.
"No," Intrepid answered reflexively. "No. I'm not saying she won't be irrational to some extent, but I don't think there's a chance of her releasing Behemoth. Not really. She's given up too much keeping him down. She won't crumble now. I mean, she might crumble but I don't think she'll let him out."
"Are we sure Ash is dead?" Clockblocker demanded, though Intrepid wasn't sure who he thought could answer the question.
Surprisingly, or perhaps not if Armsmaster had been the one to cut the feed rather than the gunshot destroying the camera, Armsmaster actually had an answer for him. "Yes. He is definitely dead. However, the video has now been cut off at the source."
"So what do we do?" Clockblocker asked. He was looking at Intrepid, now. For an instant, it didn't feel real. He tried to think of any reason the Protectorate might have for screwing with Contract, or any other way that this might have been faked, but he couldn't hold on to the fantasy. It felt for an instant like this shouldn't be his call to make, but he was the best friend she had in Brockton Bay. There was no one else.
Intrepid swallowed and answered, "We support her. Do whatever-"
"-BASTARD!" Contract shouted as she unfroze, finishing her second step towards the TV, and it was more a scream than a word. Intrepid moved closer before Clockblocker decided to buy them more time by freezing her again. The Wards talking wouldn't fix this. Maybe nothing ever could.
He caught her upper arms, twisting her face him and not the still-dark TV screen. She jerked backwards but he held on, heart racing. He could see her eyes, but it was like she couldn't see him. "Bastard," she bit out. "Fuck." She raised her fists and brought them down on his chest just once, hard; hard enough to bruise maybe, but Jason didn't let go.
It took him a moment to realize she was cussing with actual words. It had sounded more like an angry, guttural animal.
"Fi," he said, not sure what he wanted to accomplish but just trying to break her out of the zone she'd fallen into. "Fi."
"Gods curse him!" She choked out, and Jason realized she was crying. Her fists hit his chest again, and Jason grunted, and reflexively squeezed her arms tighter. She tilted her head forward, resting her forehead against his shirt, and whispered, "Goddamned bastard."
He released her arms in order to gather her closer in a hug. It was uncomfortable. Her hands were still curled into fists between them, and there was something hard and long in her jeans pocket. He didn't let go, though.
After a couple seconds, he could hear audible sobs and she started shaking, trying to take heaving breaths. Jason twisted his head just far enough to see Dean, who met his eyes and nodded encouragingly. He had an arm around Chris, who was covering his mouth with his hands, looking sick and shocky. Dennis was grim and stiff, holding it together until the crisis ended. Missy seemed to be headed towards shock, but Taylor had put an arm around her and the two girls were sitting on the couch. For her part, Taylor's face had simply closed off, and Jason couldn't read her.
They must have stood there for an eternity. After a minute, Jason's shirt was soaked with what he hoped was tears. After ten minutes, Dean motioned for Taylor to take Chris and Missy quietly out of the room. They left together, but then Taylor came back, slipping into the room and settling back on the couch, just watching Fi. Sometime after that, Jason's legs locked up and his feet started to fall asleep.
Eventually, Fi ran out of tears. She raised her head, and pulled back from Jason, wiping at her eyes with her sleeves, which weren't all that dry either after being trapped beneath the waterworks. "Damn it," she whispered so quietly that Jason doubted the others had heard. He took a step closer, keeping her focus on him, and reached out to touch her shoulder gently.
"It's okay." As soon as he said it, he regretted it. It was dumb. This was obviously not okay, and he didn't think it was, but the reassurance was a reflexive reaction that completely by-passed his filter.
Fi tried to chuckle, but tears were still sneaking down her face. "Damn it all," she reasserted more strongly. "Damn Ash for thinking we could outsmart the bitch. Damn Lucius Westfall and his thrice-cursed Winchester 22 sawed off." Her voice continued to rise, and Jason could hear the hate in it. "And damn to hell my pride, that I thought it wouldn't matter!" She was almost shouting when she finished.
She turned away, looking out the window of the conference room, or perhaps staring at her own reflection in the dark glass. "Are you happy, Jazz? You got your damned pound of flesh! Best damn hacker in the country! This will destroy my family! Are you happy, Jazz? Are you grinning? Will you crawl back to your hole in the stars? Are you finished yet, you shiny, bird-feathered BITCH?"
Dean motioned, pointing from Jason to Fi, and Jason immediately stepped up behind Fi to distract her, trying not to think about what might happen if he got this wrong. Jason told himself that if he wasn't helping Fi, Dean would have motioned to Dennis instead. So he had to be doing something right.
"Fi?" he asked, reaching out but not touching her again. He did not want to startle Fi, ever.
"Phoenix." She turned back towards him, seeing him but ignoring or not caring about anyone else. "It's Phoenix. Like the city. Someone ought to know."
Jason's heart clenched, because he would much rather have learned her name under any other circumstances. "Phoenix," he repeated back to her, just for something to say.
"Tell me I'm dreaming," she whispered.
"I wish I could."
"Tell me this is some sick trick of Company's."
"I don't think so."
"Tell me Lucius missed."
Jason flinched as he remembered a single moment of red blood spray before the blackness cut it off.
"Christo." It was a curse and a prayer, begging and defiance.
"I'm sorry." It was the wrong thing to say. Her body lost strength, and he had to step forward to help her lower herself to the couch before she collapsed on the floor. Taylor helped maneuver her, sitting on her right, then Jason took the only remaining seat.
Fi curled toward him slightly, her head resting against his shoulder, and she said, "My own damned pride."
Jason didn't know what to say, but Taylor spoke up before the pause had really stretched. "You couldn't have known."
Fi shook her head in reply, and whispered, "Damned call."
Jason squeezed her shoulder, trying to impress on her that she wasn't alone. She started crying again, but before she worked herself up into true sobs she was already asleep, utterly exhausted.
They stayed in that position for a few minutes, listening to her breathing even out as she finally stopped crying all together. Jason looked up at the rest of the room, and was almost surprised to see Armsmaster. He'd forgotten about the hero.
For his part, Armsmaster didn't seem to be paying much attention to the Wards. It was hard to tell, with the visor covering his eyes, but Jason could see his fingers twitching slightly and he guessed that Armsmaster was silently manipulating his internal display, perhaps communicating silently or reading the feedback from one of his tinker-tech gadgets.
"We should get her to bed," Taylor whispered, and Armsmaster's face jerked toward her. Dean and Dennis were already facing the couch, but both seemed surprised when she broke the silence. Taylor looked uncomfortable for a moment, then continued.
"The first night was the only good night of sleep I got after I found out my mom was dead. Every night after that, I had horrible nightmares. But the first night I was tired enough, and it didn't feel real yet, so I could sleep. This might be the last good rest she gets for a long time."
Dennis reached out and squeezed Taylor's shoulder. Jason was startled to realize how close he still was, less than a step away from being within arms' reach of Fi. "I didn't know you'd lost someone. I'm… I'm sorry," Dennis murmured.
"Thanks. But it was two and half years ago now. I'm doing a lot better." Taylor shrugged, embarrassed, then looked over to Jason. "Can you lift her without waking her?"
Jason nodded, and applied his power. Normally, he had trouble lifting anything even half the weight of his own body. His power worked best when applied to himself, a directional weightlessness that let him fly, and carry loads heavier than his muscles could account for; the first power was much more potent than the second. But right now he had adrenaline coursing through his veins, still hyped up from what he had seen as well as the fear that one wrong word could shatter what was left of his friend.
Through his power, and with Taylor's help, he carefully maneuvered Fi into a bridal style carry. Armsmaster opened the door for them, and Jason led a procession of heroes down the hall, and to the elevator that was already waiting. As they got inside, Taylor spoke again, quietly.
"I left Missy and Chris in Chris' lab. She was dealing by trying to distract him, and he was still in shock. They should still be there."
"I've alerted them that we're on our way down and told them to stay there until I give the all clear," Armsmaster said, equally quietly, as the doors closed and the elevator moved without any beeps, chimes, or requests for ID. Armsmaster was definitely talking to someone, or manipulating something, to ensure they got to Fi's bunk as smoothly and quietly as possible.
As Intrepid exited the elevator, he glanced down at Fi's face. She shifted ever so slightly, and he was struck by a sense of déjà vu. This was the position, or close enough, that he'd held her in when he touched down in New York. Far from being peaceful in sleep, her face was tense. He hadn't noticed at the time, but now he knew her well enough to read it.
Jason shook himself free of the thought - metaphorically so as to avoid waking his passenger - and began to slowly walk down the hall way. When they arrived, Taylor opened the door.
The room was bare. The PRT-issued Wards handbook sat on the desk next to the PRT issued computer, and PRT issued bedclothes were tucked with military precision around the corners of the bed. Taylor yanked the blanket and sheets back to make way, and he set Fi down very gently. She shifted, again, and cracked an eye open.
"Hmm?" her eyes drifted shut, even as she voiced a little confusion.
"You're safe," Jason said, not sure if it was the right thing to do. But he'd noticed that Fi had a habit of bidding people to be safe as her way of saying good-bye, and the reassurance sort of slipped out.
"M-hmm," she agreed, shifting a little deeper into the bed. "Hmmmmm."
"You're safe," Jason repeated, and her breathing deepened again. They all waited, tense, but she didn't shift again. Quietly, he and Taylor slipped out of the room as Dean eased the door shut. Armsmaster directed them all to the main conference room, and Missy and Chris were waiting for them when they arrived.
"What do we do now?" Missy asked immediately.
"We help her," Dennis said with authority. "But we need more information. Who was Ash? What was his relationship to Fi? I know that it's an invasion of privacy, but we're flying blind here." He looked at Jason, but didn't actually repeat the question, which was more tact than Jason would have credited him with a few days ago.
Jason answered anyway. "She doesn't really talk about her life before New York. I think she might have mentioned him as a friend who taught her about computers, or helped her with programming. She's mentioned brothers, plural, but I don't know if he was one, or just a friend, or what. The information Dean gave us earlier is probably the best guide there."
Armsmaster volunteered more details. "He has been leaving her coded messages about her family on PHO. Dragon has been aware of this for the past few weeks and has been talking with him. She says that he never gave a lot of straight answers, but she believed that he always had Contract's best interests at heart. Contract has also spoken of Ash to Dragon in glowing terms."
"So she just lost a close friend or possibly someone she views as family?" Chris summarized. "Shit."
"She talked about Jazz," Taylor said slowly. "Do you think she meant the Simurgh?"
"Yes," Armsmaster asserted, but he didn't explain.
"She's feeling a lot of self-hatred and guilt, right now," Dean put in, rubbing his temples. "In fact she's all over the board. She's furious, at the killer and I think at herself too, she has a lot of hate for the killer, she's got guilt and pain… no sadness yet. I don't think it's processed that deeply yet. At one point, there was denial and desperation, which was followed by helplessness that became anger and then guilt. Round and round and round."
"Do we really think the Simurgh targeted her?" Dennis asked Armsmaster directly.
He shook his head. "No. The Simurgh is still headed for Australia, she hasn't changed course or speed. The thinkers and precogs are all working on the upcoming confrontation. We can ask them to look for more details later, but right now everyone who can help Canberra is focused there."
Jason breathed a sigh of relief. There was something truly horrible about dealing with a precog like the Simugh that was hard to imagine, until it was actually sitting on his hindbrain and he was trying desperately to ignore it. Still, Brockton Bay may have dodged the Simurgh but Australia wouldn't.
"That will only make things worse when Fi hears about it." Jason muttered, then realized that this might actually be crucial information. "She doesn't talk much about the other Endbringers, but she did mention to me that she wishes she had waited and taken out the Simurgh instead. She didn't suspect how to beat Behemoth until six months ago, and she wasn't sure until she actually faced him in person. As soon as it was confirmed, she took her shot. But she told me that she wondered if she should have waited. It didn't occur to her at the time."
"Wow," Missy sighed. "That sucks."
"She'll blame herself," Dean confirmed.
"She won't listen if you tell her it's not her fault." Everyone looked over to Taylor. She was still stoic, closed off. Jason wondered if she was barely holding it together or if she was naturally that cool under a crisis.
"The best thing we can do is ask how she's doing, and listen to the answer," Taylor continued. "Make sure she eats. Let her sleep if she can. Listen to stories about Ash, no matter how weird or personal they seem. She's going to have mood swings, and she won't react like you expect her to. But there is no wrong reaction, no wrong emotion. She'll be mad, and depressed, and listless, and shocked and irreverent and happy and loopy and tired, and pissed, and crazy. None of that is wrong."
Most of the Wards were nodding. Dennis nodded slowly, but then issued an order that made Jason's blood run cold. "We don't leave her alone, ever." He took a deep breath to protest, to argue that smothering Fi was the exact opposite of helpful right now.
Then Dennis glanced at Armsmaster, and the Protectorate leader nodded, adding his own caveat. "We don't want to overwhelm her, or add any stress to her situation, but until further noticed Fi is on a suicide watch. She was already dealing with separation from her family and an identity crisis. Questions were asked about her mental stability before. I don't want to give anyone an excuse to look harder or ask more questions than they already have. You are her teammates. Take care of her."
"She probably should see a counselor," Dean offered, looking grim. "We can help, but we're not professionals."
"She's refused them in the past, but I will see what I can do." Judging from Armsmaster's tone, Jason wasn't too hopeful. They'd just have to give it their best effort.
"There's something else to think about. She knew the killer. And the killer knew her," Taylor reminded them. "He recognized her, and he didn't shoot Ash until after he recognized her. She's talked about having enemies before. He might try to hunt her down."
"I will talk to Dragon when the Simurgh attack is over and investigate Ash's death. But until then, you will all just have to keep alert."
"Another reason not to leave her alone." Dennis rubbed his temples. "Armsmaster, I request permission to put the entire Ward's team on non-active duty with regards to patrols and the like for the next 48 hours. We'll re-evaluate after that."
"Agreed. Your sole duty for the next two days is Contract."
"Phoenix." Jason heard himself say. "We need to remember to call her Fi or Phoenix, since she decided to share it with us. She doesn't really identify with 'Contract' very well."
The team nodded in agreement, and looked at each other, then Dennis sighed and issued assignments. "Okay, everyone go to your quarters and get some rest. Missy, go sit with Fi in case she wakes up. Chris, sleep for an hour then relieve her. I doubt she'll wake up tonight anyway. I'll tag in at 7 AM so you can sleep. Taylor, you take over from me at 10 AM. Hopefully, she'll be tired enough to sleep until much later than that, and Dean and Jason will be rested when she wakes up. For now, you two are probably the best equipped to deal with Fi."
"What about the Simurgh? She's going to want updates at some point. It's not the sort of thing she'll forget. What do we tell her?" Jason asked, wanting to clarify the point for all involved.
Dennis grimaced, but Jason knew this was important. "We tell her the truth. But only if she asks." It was what Jason planned to do anyway, even if it had been forbidden, but he wanted it said for the entire team.
"Good," Jason asserted. "If someone lied to Fi at this point, she would probably deck them. Or start crying again. Certainly, it would destroy any chance of trust." He paused, for a moment he wanted to chew Dennis out for freezing her earlier. But the chances of changing his mind now, less than an hour after he made the judgment call, was slim. He would wait, and not leave Fi alone with Dennis in the meantime.
"So now we wait?" Taylor asked.
"We wait." Dennis stood up and the others followed suit, drifting toward their quarters.
Jason was afraid what might be waiting for him in his sleep, but if he dreamed at all, he didn't remember it when he woke.