Chapter Three
Two days later
Both of them were finally on the mend, following the... frankly harrowing... experience at the illegal fighting pit. For Yelena and her onboard bioregenerative systems, the recovery consisted mainly of taking it easy, following the immediate first aid administered by the medics at the pit. She had lost quite a bit of blood from the slashed wrist, and the scars on her neck would take some more time to heal completely, but she was well on the way to her old self. Both physically, and emotionally.
Not mentally, however...
It was as Irwine predicted – she didn't hold a grudge. Or give the encounter a second thought, since, for that matter. As far as she was concerned, it was now over and done, and she had proven herself to those criminals. And left a lasting impression, if the nods of recognition and respect she was getting since, were any indication. The cyber-armed thug was not yet out of the hospital, himself, undergoing a bit more involved recovery.
For Irwine, it was different, however. He had gotten out alive, by the narrowest of margins, following a desperate knife fight with the captive policeman. In the end, he prevailed, killing his opponent, but not without paying for it. Multiple lacerations and abrasions, a nasty gash across his stomach, and a deep stab wound in his right thigh. He was released to house-care, following the two-day stint at the hospital, but he was sill very much undergoing recovery.
Physical, emotional, and mental one, that is.
"Hold on, I can get it- aagghh! SHIT!" - he exclaimed, stumbling as his injured leg wouldn't fully support his weight, as he got out of bed.
Yelena caught him as he nearly fell, smiling indulgently.
"I'm sure you can, dear. But you must take it easy for now. Come on..." - firmly taking his arm, and helping him along, to the bathroom.
"It's fucked up... this whole thing's fucked up." - he growled under his breath, gritting his teeth.
"Don't worry, you will be able to walk on your own soon. Probably before the week is over, yes?" - she reassured him.
He glared at the wall, with a minute shake of his head.
"It doesn't bother you at all, does it?" - as they reached the doorway to the bathroom, where he used the nearby wall as support, to make the rest of the way, into the shower cabin.
The woman shrugged. But her body language betrayed that something was, in fact, bothering her.
"It is the way things work. I was expecting for us to be tested, sooner rather then later. The Bratva is a very... insular... organisation. Mired in it's own traditions. With me, it is obvious... as a woman, I had to prove I was just as tough as any of their men. On their own terms, not mine. Hence the dampener. If not... let's say the - pedigree - I was given, by the Collective, would not have been enough to keep me inside. Successful mission or no. With you..." - she trailed off.
"Yeah. Soft American, right... ? You know, I thought those kinds of stereotypes died out after the Cold War." - Irwine growled, turning on the shower, on low intensity, letting the lukewarm water relax him, as he closed his eyes. But he couldn't relax. He was too... angry.
Yelena shook her head at that.
"It will take a lot longer then half a century, for that to happen, Irw. I heard what Igor said to you, how things work differently here? He is not wrong. We have long memories, going back hundreds of years, and even harder time letting go of preconceptions. Vendettas. Old grudges. Or - stereotypes. Why I had to prove myself. And why you had to prove yourself. Don't take it personally."
He turned to glare, at her, this time.
"Don't tell me not to take it personally, god damn it! They made me MURDER a guy in a fucking deathmatch, just to prove a god damn point! I realise that's everyday stuff for you, but-" - he abruptly cut himself off, noticing the tightening of her eyes, as she turned her head away. The... haunted... expression on her face.
"No... no! That- that's not what I meant, Yelena! I didn't mean to imply-" - but she was already gone, gliding back to the living room, and closing the door.
"Nice going, man..." - he muttered under his breath, banging his head lightly against the tiled wall of the cabin. And with a mirthless chuckle to himself, realising he'd be hopping on one foot, back to the bedroom.
In the living room, Yelena sighed to herself. He wasn't wrong, of course. But that didn't mean she liked the reminder. She was past judging herself by now, since it was an ultimately useless exercise. Not to mention redundant. She regretted what she had been. She even despaired over it, some nights, as the nightmares were never far from the surface. But she refused to let the guilt consume her. Ultimately – they did it to her. They made her that way. And it was them, who needed to pay for it. Not her. She paid, for long enough.
She approached a secure comms terminal in the corner, sitting down, and typing-in a very specific series of code-phrases, given to her by the Collective as an encryption key.
After a long pause, Jamella Couture's face appeared on the screen. The young hacker's expression upon seeing who was calling, was a far cry from the suppressed fury and open loathing, that Yelena was regularly subjected to, early on... but it was still far from amicable.
~"Oh it's you. What do you want, Fedorova?"~ - the young woman growled.
"A flight-in to the Kiss. I need to consult with some of the cybertechs there. I have... reservations... about some of my augment infrastructure. Have a helicopter dispatched to the penthouse." - Yelena replied neutrally, getting straight to the point.
~"We're not a taxi service-" - Couture cut herself off, at the anticluster glare from the aquiline woman... and given her new position in the organisation, Yelena was well within her authority here, "...fine. Take me half an hour to whip up a good fake transponder signal for the bird. Figure another hour, for the flight..."~ - she looked over to the side, clearly talking to someone else.
"Two hours is fine. Out." - Yelena closed the link.
Then she dithered for a moment... before pulling out a thin, proprietary-connector cable from the drawer below the terminal's desk, connecting one end to the I/O port just behind her left ear, while the other went into the jack on the terminal.
Her fingers flew over the keyboard... accessing her augmentation framerwork's main operating interface. A detailed wireframe image manifested itself on-screen, in the vague shape of her body, overlayed with all the systems and circuitry layout she was equipped with.
She called up the power-grid layout... and scowled, biting her lip.
So much of me, is on an active circuit... and vulnerable to EM interference. I'm... compromised.
She thought, shaking her head slightly.
The memory of her... diminished state, in that ring, fresh in her mind. The vulnerability. The... anxiety she felt. And the desperation of that final act. Then her mind recalled the confrontation with Adam Jensen, in Montreal. How he used the environment to his advantage, destroying one of the AI core's power generators, which sent an electrical charge through the cooling fluid – a charge which nearly fried her on the spot, sending her systems into hard-reset, and draining her power levels. While he simply walked through it, unaffected.
Obsolescence. She wasn't... quite... there yet. But...
It was a sobering thought, for the woman. When her build was finalised, six years ago, her systems were literally state-of-the-art. The best Tai Yong and it's subsidiaries had to offer, funded by a near-limitless commission, to create perfect weapons. Some of them well ahead of their time, in fact, custom-built for her. For the late Namir and Barret. Each of them was unique, in more then one way.
But the underlying infrastructure, the power grid, the bioenergy storage, the circuitry, the connections - were a product of their time. Active-matrix power delivery was on it's way to be phased out, for a while now, being vulnerable to power surges, and EMP effects. Passive-matrix components, and modular scalability, were the name of the game today, replacing the more utilitarian, fixed framework, of the past.
Case in point. Praxis kits, being offered commercially at LIMB clinics, these days. She could not make use of them. They required a modular, scalable infrastructure to be integrated into, and provide added functions. Her infrastructure was very much fixed. Static. She was as advanced as she would ever be, and any additional functionalities would require a complete rebuild.
True, active-matrix power delivery and fixed infrastructure, had it's advantages too... efficiency, for one. Reduced power drain, giving her cloaking array, in particular, very robust autonomy of usage, especially combined with thermoptic mesh to use it on. But those advantages were contingent on one actually being able to use them. And with the increasing availability of various forms of EM-based dampening, now even finding it's way to dirty underground fighting venues... that was no longer a guarantee.
She was too vulnerable, to unforseen circumstances. And she knew all too well, that on assignments, very few circumstances can really be planned for, in advance.
And the fact that her systems were incompatible with further upgrades, especially modern ones, would only be more and more detrimental, as time went on. Yelena knew that. She read about the various new kinds of implants that were coming out. She recalled Ben's mention, of the possibility of getting hooked up with some aftermarket mods, back in Panama. Little did he know that even if she got her hands on some, she couldn't make use of them. Technology waited for no-one, and the longer she lagged behind the development curve, the more difficult would it be to catch up.
Six years.
In the early days of personal computing, six years was tantamount to six renaissances. While human enhancement technology didn't progress nearly as rapidly, six years was still a long time. And would only get longer.
It was time for... a renaissance. She looked at her Ouroboros bracelet again. Given her nature, rebirth... definitely had more then just one connotation.
"Listen uh... I'm sorry for what I said earlier." - Irwine smiled at Yelena, as they both sat comfortably in the chopper's passenger bay, looking down on the spring Sankt Peterburg cityscape, as they lifted off.
Even he had to admit - now that the frigid winter was over, it was a pretty nice place to live in. The... locals, just took some getting used to. But he figured she had a point; now that they'd proven themselves, that would be the end of it.
She smiled back.
"Nothing to be sorry about. It IS something that was everyday stuff. Now it is not. I'm happy about that, but it doesn't change the past. Anyway, why did you want to come along? Just as moral support? Afraid I would break down in tears, over my archaic power grid, in front of the techs?" - her smile turned into a chuckle.
The man nodded with a smirk.
"I wouldn't put it past you!" - deadpan, before adding, more soberly - "...and... what you said about disassociating. I want to have a chat with Couture personally, on how we can go about that. Definitely not something I wanna discuss over a link, even an encrypted one. Time to become Castor Van Strohm, in fact as well as name. And find a way to let my folks in on it, so they can do the same." - he paused there, with a sigh. It still felt... rotten, but he knew it was for their own good.
"What about you... Tanya Cristoff? Why take another Russian identity? Why not go cosmopolitan?"
Yelena shrugged.
"I do not have much to disassociate from. My family is long gone. I have no idea where they were buried. If they were buried... or just incinerated namelessly." - she closed her eyes, suppressing the pain.
"My relatives... I don't even think I knew them. If I did, I don't remember. Maybe they were... killed, too. Maybe they were threatened into silence. Maybe they never knew at all... It is like I said back in Panama. Bits and pieces, like fragments of a dream. So I don't really have to go far, in identity. It is more to prevent anyone who might recognise me by name, from tracking me down and getting themselves in danger, then for my benefit. And of course... it is for you. To help your own disassociation work better. Anyone connected to... Yelena Fedorova... would be a target." - she looked at the man she loved.
"You can't think of anyone, you might still have? Anyone at all?" - Irwine asked quietly, embracing her.
The woman shook her head, laying her head on his shoulder.
"No. Until you came into my life... I was a ghost. Now - I don't know what I am. But I am glad you're here. And I love you. I would do anything for you. Because you are kind to me... and a good person. Anything aside from... from letting go. Or... or stopping. I cannot do that." - she amended, adamantly, then continued,
"And no matter what anyone tells you, or how anyone treats you around here, or anyhere else... don't let that get to you. Forget about the Bratva, or anyone else, or what they think! They don't matter. They are tools. Expendables. Allies of convenience. The world, doesn't matter. It is - a shithole! People are stupid... and blind... and oblivious. Being led around by the nose... Like horses running into a burning barn! And they don't even see it..." - she kissed him in the neck, cuddling closer to him.
"It's just you and me, love. You and me, and whatever the world throws at us!" - she whispered in his ear.
As the helicopter came in for a landing at the ship's rear helipad, Yelena was looking over the pilot's shoulder.
"Did you scramble the transponder signal, the moment we departed Russian airspace? Even with spoofing, they have satellites in orbit that continually scan for parity-checks. A fake transponder would be detected before too long." - she asked.
"Yes. As instructed upon departure. We've tightened security protocols since the mole in the Hole." - the woman replied with a nod. Belatedly, she realised that was a rhyme, suppressing a chuckle.
"Good. I would hate for this to be a repeat performance of that unpleasantness." - Yelena clapped her on the shoulder.
"Look at those dishes..." - Irwine pointed at the EW equipment dotting the ship's upper deck, as they disembarked.
"That has to be the equivalent of about three separate EW systems, combined! Say what you will about the Collective, but they learn from mistakes. I don't think you can get more stealthy then this... barring actual stealth-coating on the hull, or an active cloaking shield. And that would draw visual attention, or light us up like a Christmas tree on any EM scans, in case of the cloaking shield." - there was confidence in his tone.
Yelena nodded, testing it with her Uplink, as she half-closed her eyes... she couldn't get through. She ran a hand through her hair, adjusting her short ponytail.
"M-hm... microwave shielded, too. It seems a full package, for the vessel. While being nondescreipt." - she grudgingly admitted, looking around. The soft bobbing of the deck under her, and the feeling of fresh sea-air on her skin, felt good though. The clear skies did make her want to get indoors sooner rather then later... she would have preferred an overcast weather, to make it more difficult for any potential visual scans, from orbit.
A slightly paranoid mindset, perhaps, but given where they just landed – no amount of paranoia was unhealthy.
They stepped away from the chopper, now shutting down it's rotors, towards a stairwell leading to one of the observation-deck entrances.
It was a bit chilly, early Spring at the Black Sea, and her rather revealing sleeveless tank top under an open leather jacket, and grey bell-cut jeans, didn't help. But she liked it... it got the blood pumping. And it also helped cool off her mounting... anticipation.
"Do you think they'll be able to switch you over to passive-matrix aug setup?" - Irwine asked, almost as if... sensing... her unease.
She thought about it. Realistically – it was unlikely. Given how integrated she was with her systems, and how incompatible they were, with modular reconfiguration.
"I don't know. If not... I'll have some hard choices to make." - the woman admitted, more to herself, then him.
"You know, there's another side to this..." - the man murmured, "I've seen you practicing – alone and with me as your sparring partner. You rely a lot on those fancy reflex-boosting implants, don't you? And how you're next to impossible to take off your feet - I'm guessing gyrostabilisation comes into play a lot?"
"Yes." - she shrugged, not sure where he was going with it, "They are a great asset, and they allow me to move in ways I cannot, naturally. Not to mention make me quicker in responding to threats. All kinds of threats. They saved my life more times then I can count, on deployments."
"And they also decrease your muscular contraction times, right? Helping with the power-generation?" - he probed.
"That and managing muscle fatigue. Sometimes the connective tissue between my own musculature and polyfibral one, gets a bit... strained. They do a good job numbing the lactic-acid buildup. I can remain active for hours on end, if I need to. And the power-drain is minimal, because of how efficient the power grid is." - she nodded.
"What's your point, Irw?" - she added, frowning.
The man considered his words.
"I think you're relying too much on it. You're used to having that... get-out-of-jail-free card, when it comes to a fight. I saw your body-language in that pool – you were nervous, looking up at that dampener thing. Trying hard to hide it but... it was there. I've never seen you that way before, in a fight. Any kind of fight. I think you were fighting that, more then that guy."
"I wasn't nervous-" - she objected reflexively, in a 'oh really' hiss, rolling her eyes, as they opened the door and stepped in... then she sighed, noticing the patient look he was giving her.
"I suppose... I like my little conveniences, yes. I like being quick and precise. I like the economy of movement. I like the acrobatics I can apply, when needed. It is... satisfying. And empowering. It is a part of me, and how I trained, for a very long time. And it makes me very, very lethal. Being... one... with it." - she was honest.
Irwine nodded.
"And when you suddenly lost the ability to access it, with your power grid unresponsive..." - he trailed off, expectantly.
The woman bit her lip.
"I felt... vulnerable. And... a little scared. Just a little." - her tone barely above a whisper.
"I felt like I did, back in Montreal... when I was drained and scrambled, following Jensen's... creative use of the environment." - she admitted, remembering.
"All I could do, was stumble around, and try to keep him suppressed... until I had to reload. Then it was over. Just like that. I did not even see the grenade coming, I could not leap out of the way in time... or stop him from turning me into... swiss cheese, after. I was... slow. So, so slow. Because my machine-side failed me. I am just glad it didn't kill me... the grid reset in time, for the bioregenerative matrix to begin working properly." - in a soft growl.
"Did it fail you? You say it kept you alive, in the end. That don't sound like failure, to me. Or did you just rely too much on it, expect too much of it, and were flustered, when it suddenly wasn't there anymore?" - the man asked pointedly.
She glared. But the glare lacked conviction.
"Gadgets don't make a soldier, Yelena. And you are one hell of a soldier. Tough. Steady. Composed. Focused. Ruthless. Not that that's a good thing but... in a fight, it is. But relying too much on advanced tech, takes you away from the human side of it. From your own natural skill and ability." - he continued, seriously.
"It becomes a crutch, not an augmentation. And that's dangerous, when you suddenly lose it, due to external factors. If it turns out your systems can't be brought up to modern spec, and shielded from scrambling, you might have to rely more and more on the human side of it. That means training without those systems online."
"Probably..." - she grimaced, with great reluctance.
"Look at it this way - you'll get to improve yourself, and those systems'll still be there, when you really need 'em. They aren't any less effective - hell I saw you in action, back at the airport - you were almost impossible to keep track of visually, how fast you were! Don't imagine there's any kind of modern setup, that can do much better then that! And I seriously doubt anything they come up with, in the forseeable future, will be any better. Maybe better shielded and modular, but - better performing? I don't think so! I had to watch my fire quite a bit, when I wasn't sure where you'll be the next moment." - he complimented her, to which she smiled.
"But you'll be way more confident in yourself, if you have to fight without it. Sometimes tech can't be improved past its specs. You were... designed... in a different time, for a different time. But you, can be improved past your current 'specs'. That's the fun thing about being human... we're a very, very modular machine, you know. Just depends on how hard you train! And how you approach it."
She paced a few more steps, before nodding.
"I know... and I used to! I really used to. I'm just in denial about it! It would mean making quite a few... changes, to my training regime. The one I had, for the past... three and a half... four years or so. Ever since I fully adapted to my systems." - she paused.
"And adapt a new fighting style, for those times when I am not... hooked in. New way of thinking, too."
"I guess. But you know what they say - you keep learning while you live. And I'll be very happy to beat the crap out of you when we spar, when you don't get it right! Be a nice switch..." - he teased.
"Keep hoping!" - she hissed with a grin, giving him a shove.
With that, they arrived at the main stairwell, where the signage pointed the way to the cybernetics lab, and the comms centre. They were on different decks, so this was where the two would split up, for the time being.
"Good luck! Hell, maybe I'm wrong, and those tech-whizs find a way to soup you up anyway! Then it'll all be fine." - he smiled.
"You too! And... give my regards to your family. Maybe I am wrong as well, and you don't have to be disassociated from them, for good. Maybe the time will come when this will all be over! I am... pessimistic, as a rule. And a cynical bitch! So do not read too much into it!" - Yelena winked at him.
Wishing she could really believe it. Either of it.
With that, the two split up.