Disclaimer: Hello fellas and ladies, welcome to my pet side project. Now before you get any ideas, let's clarify some things here so as to not write each individual note – IH is not dead, but there was a problem I stumbled upon called 'Windows 11' and 'a right to use any tool my whole life and now I have to pay up for it'. Second, unlike War for the Damned, this is a complete separate fic with no ties to that particular universe at all. Third and most important – you are probably gonna be hard to like a certain someone.
Also, this stuff belongs to Kinoko Nasu who, let's face it, is either brilliant or a complete nutcase to have come up with the whole concept by himself without having his gray matter splattered on the walls of his 2-by-2 office. But, man, does he inspire folks to write. Let's get this show on the road!
Being a Handler at Chaldea Sucks!
Chapter 1: Everything Starts With a Bang!
There's something to be said about Chaldea facility; they took years to built this stuff. Spent who knows how many bills, hours and manpower so some Clock Tower's bigwig Lord-Whatshisname… It was written on the contract, but all I could remember was... Billy. The hell kind o' name is that for supposed aristocracy? Shows how much they know… Anyway, long story short – a humongous mix of metal, concrete and rebar jammed into a giant hole in a middle of a freakin' Antarctica.
Like seriously, Sahara has sand, snakes, oases, camels, a weird out-of-place crock and a scantly clad Cleopatra and her maids, but this?! I'm pretty sure, no positive, that penguins and shrimps that dwell down beneath the tons of ice avoid this place like a plague. If Lord Willy-Nilly wanted to be the second coming of Noah or something then he choose the wrong spot for his Ark.
All that money down the drain and for what? So that a buncha tight-arsed mages can observe Human History through the world's biggest crystal ball… Yeah, it's a more complicated than it sounds, but the more I tried to find out the more the supervisors got concerned they'd end short-staffed by the amount of time I tried to pry the information by what they consider less than humane methods. I can't believe I just heard those words from dudes that'd sell their wives, their side-bitches, kids, grandparents and a left testicle to reach their Root of all things.
That's one helluva family-friendly image they're trying to sell. But at least the good thing that a current budget covers curing a hangover that'd cause three liver failures. Say what you will about medical insurance back in the outside world, when your body feels like it'll burst in flames, eyes acting as Niagara Falls and an angry dragon that's just raging to be set free, you can bet that there's no better response team than here in Chaldea. Now if only the interior designer didn't make everything so polishing shiny and bright-surfaced that'd make grandma's china go green with envy.
Beggars can't be choosers here unfortunately, just like how the clearly gender biased pillocks couldn't find themselves to have more women on the medical facility. I'm pretty sure Florence Nightingale would've said something about this… Nothing against male nurses, but come on, part of the good recovery is making the patient comfortable, and last I checked having some ginger geezer hovering above you making notes and checking you like you're the first of your species to have been plastered with semi-quality booze that's barely found. I'm putting that into personal complaint later, if I could remember which one is my writing hand again.
The damned eyes still on my mind, I groaned, feeling the weight of the hundred and thirteen kilos of flesh, bone and skin protest all at once. "Ugh, bollocks…''
The annoying squiggly scraping over paper stopped for a moment, thank the heavens, "Oh, you're finally awake. This is actually impressive considering the amount of alcohol you in-''
"Doc,'' The words felt like dust was spilling from my mouth, but I pushed through, "come closer.''
A slight hesitation, then a shuffle grew closer until I could feel it blocked the overhead light, I swear I'm gonna punch that thing, my non-existent pension be damned.
"Alright, now I know you likely would – OOMPH!'' The good doctor never got to finish, but getting suddenly punched in the thorax would do that, reflexes are still good somewhat.
"Doctor Roman!'' The other orderly that uselessly stood until now decided to open his more useless mouth with even more useless garbage to fall out. Likely on me.
"An' you,'' I tried my best to sound intimidating, but my voice still needed some fixing, fortunately a disheveled hair, glaring bloodshot eyes and a hoarse edge made up for it, "Nameless Face Number 69, shut up... No, in fact, fuck off!''
From the barely clear image my squinted eyes managed to reproduce for my brain I could see that he was rooted on spot, but didn't take the verbal part to heart. Damn, I must be slipping.
"It's all right, Sebastian. Everything is all right.'' The ginger man managed to wheeze out, his voice recovering and posture straightening. The hell? I'm no stranger of a bar brawls and alcohol actually dulls the sense of how you might perceive strength, but there's no way I messed that punch by that much. That, or this guy apparently has tougher guts than I though.
"I think maybe I should call for help.''
Oh for the love of all holy and unholy, does being a low tier grunt makes people lose the mental faculties faster than Alzheimer's? Getting sick of hearing two voices already, and it's only six thirty in the morning, or whatever counted as a part of the day when you get six months of constant sunshine.
"No, no, that won't be necessary. In fact, it's quite counterproductive with this one… But luckily I have accrued a lot of experience dealing with cases like this, so this is nothing for me, haha!''
That has got to be one of the lamest ways to tell a subordinate to get out of the way. Yet somehow it worked, the NM69 started withdrawing slowly. I waited until he was almost out, "And turn the goddamn lights down! You want a tan and brighter perspective, try going outside!''
Dammit did that increase the pounding in my head, but seeing the look of a scrunched wet paper bag on a NM69's face was so worth it. Though, what does '-ronzo' mean? Gotta find someone who speaks wop later, if I can remember which one of a couple hundred faces actually comes from Italy.
Roman sighed, shaking his head lightly, "That was really unnecessary what you did.''
Story of my life in the last fifteen years give or take, "Which one? Wanna compare notes, see where we stand?'' I said flippantly, "Okay, I'll start first; Once upon a time there was a -''
"Please, don't try to avoid it, not this time.'' He glanced a the chart that he somehow picked up without me noticing, or it fell on bed? "I can't in good consciousness allow you to make these kind of stunts… One was alright, two was pushing, but after that it got worse and worse. I think it's time we addressed these problems.''
Here we go, Doc wants a verbal spar, I never go down without a fight, "Yeah, right, there's just a tiny deal of we're in a middle of a frozen wasteland. And I'm pretty sure the Big Boss Lord Billy is not too keen on opening his overflowing chauffeurs to have my sorry ass shipped to the nearest AA joint.''
Roman coughed slightly in his hand, "It's Lord Marisbury Animusphere, actually.'' Nice enough information that'd be gone by the time I'm out of bed. "And I don't think it's polite to speak of the dead in such way.''
Oh yeah, that happened like a month before I came aboard, which means it's been almost three years being stuck on the South Pole.
"Three years… Three goddamn years…!'' I breathed out in frustration, "And not a single clue about it. No witnesses, no murder weapon, no motive, no PC, the whole package it'd take ten Poirotes to scratch the surface. Oh, and the cherry on top, the good sonny Woody wouldn't let me stay anywhere near the crime scene! Like, why the hell not?!''
Dr. Roman sighed exasperatedly, his left hand touching his forehead, "You know, with an attitude like that, I sometimes wonder how you lasted th-,'' Seeing my look he backtracked a little, "-I mean, no one is keeping you here against your will. You could've simply plead for an early release. I think with your dedicated record the board would've paid you in full.''
''It's not just about the money, Doc.'' Well, not entirely, but there was other things that didn't add up that kept bugging me, poking unpleasantly at the back of my skull like somebody's driving nails from the inside. "Look, bear with me for a minute here; You hire a security team, in an enclosed end-of-a-world type bunker, pay them a very handsome wage they could only dream of anywhere else, and expect that they run a tight ship. But wait, here's a kicker, the dude that's running the op ends up dead, and we ain't got the first idea on what caused it or who, but ohhhh no, the Lords and Ladies of Big Ben are mostly quiet and the ones calling the shots just tell us we continue as we were like they're talking about a freakin' weather!''
Mid rant I spotted a pitcher and a glass of water, but only now reached it, Doc trying to help before I beat him to it, "I ain't an invalid yet.'' Muttering irritably, and to Doc's great befuddlement I grabbed the whole pitcher and gulped more than half of with in one breath, probably spilling some on the sheets.
"I understand,'' Roman started again seeing my pause and starring off as some sign he should jump in, "You're a professional and to you and your colleagues that incident is a great slight against your work. You think you failed, and the resulting guilt is eating away at you from the inside. Believe me, I'm sad and angry at what happened, too. Lord Marisbury is the reason I got my job as well, if I could help somehow to catch the culprit, I'd give my best but the reality is usually different than what we want it to be.''
Wow, this is the first time I heard Doc talk to this length, although we never had to spend longer than five minutes in the same room. He seem to be rather close with the Lord Billy, to what extent now that'd be filed for later.
I kept my blank stare, and in another turn of hand I washed all the remaining water down the proverbial drain pipe. "Where's my gear?''
Roman blinked at the sudden shift, this man was really complicated he thought, "Or rather, his reasoning is…"He pointed at the close by rack where my black and gray uniform lied, neatly folded, along with my boots. "Whew, I admit it's heavier than it looks, your clothes, it almost gave another orderly a hernia trying to carry it!"
I snorted, amused at a dumbass who had to go through that, "There's something about going to the gym once a week… And seriously, any of your grunts ever heard of a dolly?''
The Chaldea's resident doctor looked sheepish, "Uh, I-we'll keep that in mind for the future references. Alright, going back to you, your preliminary results are- What are you doing? W-Wait, you shouldn't get up yet!''
Tell that to my chief and my darn guilty consciousness, "Relax, I'm fine… For the most part. But now it's time to go and face the music.''
"As your doctor I still must insist!''
I grunted as I carefully slipped into my uniform, the familiar weight settling around my frame, "You want me to lie around like a sack there either bring chains or horse tranquilizer." At his slightly appalled look I couldn't help but roll my eyes, "Relax, Doc, if I end up passed out in a hall or elevator shaft I'm sure you'll be the first to know.''
"That's not in any way reassuring!'' Roman almost fritzed out, "As a head of medical staff, it is my duty to see the patients to their recovery!"
"Then we have a problem here," Slowly slipping the troublesome bandaged right arm in the sleeve, "As your duty now clashes with my duty." Honestly it was a weak argument, but I wasn't letting Doc talk me out of it, I knew he wouldn't try to use force, but then again neither did I for that matter, as overbearing his mother-hen act might be, he's actually a capable guy.
"You say that, but how can you perform your duty without being healthy?" Raising one brow and crossing his arms once more, the Doc delivered what he thought to be a final line in our verbal tug o' war, expecting it to nail me down.
Yeah, no dice, "… You want healthy, huh?'' I sighed once, and another deep breath before pulling a jumping jack followed by a burpee. "That good enough for you, Doc? I'm fine." Which was a lie because my insides were burning like crazy, but I did everything in my power for it not to show. "Now I just hope he never watched 'The Italian Job'…"
"Uh-huh, you say fine…" Romani muttered with an unimpressed look.
Goddammit, seriously?! Please let it not be true. Please let him be a normal shut-in who cares more for his dirty stash and talking to imaginary idols than a pop-culture enthusiast. Please, I swear to never miss an evening prayer again…
As if the prayers itself were answered, the bright haired doctor took another look at his charts as if weighing whatever options he's got when it's only one reasonable left, he shook his head slightly and spoke, "If I decide to go with this, and it's a very big 'IF', you have to promise me to at least come for a check up every other day in the evening, no skipping, no excuses and most important, you will take it easy for now. Is that clear?"
I stood there almost gaping for like two whole seconds, before I remembered that this guy's face and the word strict don't go together. Like, really, it's like having a staring contest with a blobfish and trying not to laugh.
But I think I gave the poor doctor enough grief for one afternoon, so decided to end it there. "A'ight, Doc. Glad you finally saw reason, so we shake on it and seal in bloo-ink?" That got a single eye twitch, heh. Score.
Turns out, the good doctor will take care of the filling a report and as I was reminded once again to take it easy, whatever that meant, I walked to the door.
"… And Tristan."
I stifled a groan, not turning around so Doc won't see the scowl on my face. But strangely, I thought to hear what he had to say. Parting words or whatever, but if it turns to be some asinine advice I stomping out with a dented door.
"Please, at least take better care of yourself."
But already through half of the line, the younger man was out, hitting the door with his elbow that made Romani wince. Sighing as he went a hand through his hair, he went to finish the report, and maybe grab the last dessert from the canteen.
XxX
With that out of the way, it was almost time for my own walk to the gallows. Well, technically, it was more of a verbal dressing down by my superior and the current director, but they'd probably not waste any time showing for what might be some boorish, but handsome grunt that started a fight because some asshole started badmouthing his position and in turn to those of his partners.
Though I'm not facing that with an empty stomach, so a quick run to the galley and a swift snatch an' grab of a snickers bar and a fizzy orange can was all I could afford at this time-frame. The stink eyes I received were a blast tough, real peachy, I see the rumor mill already started spinning whatever lame theories about me, my damnable ancestors they've no idea about, the cute but crazy girl at the clothing department, to will I be getting a boot or face the firing squad.
"Shiiiiiiiit, like a buncha lonely middle-aged wives in a knitting circle.'' But what else to expect from magi? Least the engineering gave me no flak and I even think I saw a guy give me a salute. Huh, go figure. Well, when the world throws lemons at you, what do you do? Chuck it right back, of course!
~''Said your mother told you all that I could give you was a reputation, Aw, she never cared for me
But did she ever say a prayer for me? Oh-whoa-whoa"~
Best thing about walking down the shiny metallic hallways of Chaldea, they're so much good resonance for singing. Also the stupefied faces of some mages who don't know if you're chanting some kind of prayer, curse, spell or what have you. But most now just pass by with only a few weirded out glances, while the rest of regular staff or normies just toss a few amused glances or completely ignore you. Which is fine either way with me. Means no one gets to bother me and my incredible stage performance make-believe.
Seriously, people need more hobbies here, when I tried to pass mu darts board, they first thought it was a dangerous weapon. Had to get it through series of scans and whatnot to get it to my room, damn their looks when I first told them it was so I can practice throwing curses at different body parts.
Anyway where was I… Damn lost my track, well, let's pick a random one. Makes the time passing more bearable.
~"And they say there's a heaven for those who will wait, Some say it's better, but I say it ain't, I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints, The sinners are much more fun, You know that only the good die young, oh, baby, I tell ya only the good die young, Only the good die young"~
Pausing to take a sip from a half full drink, I let the bubbles glide over my tongue and throat, man that was incredible! Surprised they even allowed the orange flavor here. I never paid much attention to who I passed or their faces, except minding not to collide with another. Especially with a walking model of a Mona Lisa, that'd be embarrassing.
~"Come out, come out, come out, Virginia, don't let me wait, You Catholic girls start much too late, Sooner or later it comes down to fate, I might as well will be the one, You know that only the good die young, Tell you, baby, You know that only the good die young, Only the good die young, Only the good, Only the good die young!"~
Finishing the jumbled order of lines with a slowly drawled out 'Ooh-ooh, ooh-hoo' I was getting closer to our station, which was neither here nor there, I almost expected we'd be crammed into a back-corner somewhere, but we were nicely tucked in so as to have an even route to most places in Chaldea.
And as I passed another odd couple composed of a creepy Willy Wonka look alike and a hot but otherwise typically reserved magus girl, I finished the rest of my can and smashed it over my head in one move making it nearly a flat circle. "Time's just a flat circle… Hmm, who was it that said that? Nietzsche?"
Ignoring the sudden annoyed chatter behind me I walked straight into the shop, HQ, precinct, call it what you will. It wasn't much but it was home. I had to ignore most eyes on me still and I walked directly to the chief, saw that some tried to get in my way, but those with brains either pulled them back or they thought it over when noticing my pace.
And in the boss' office two familiar faces. Behind the desk, the oldest among us and most experienced, former police inspector and security consultant, Edgar Williams. "Yeah, okay, there's a lot of willies here, I'm starting to notice the pattern."
The other one, the shorter Hispanic man I immediately recognized, who wouldn't remember a dude that shaves his dome like that, "Sup, Mayonnaise!''
"Cabrón, it's Jimenez. How is it so hard to remember that?" He scowled at his colleague.
I scratched my head, feigning ignorance, "Damn, though I'd get it right this time. Sorry, hombre, not like we got name tags, which is ridiculous if you ask me, how're we suppose-"
A loud clearing of throat interrupted my monologue, "If you're finished boys, we can get straight to business. Since Tristan decided he'd rather skip his stay at our lovely med center, even better.''
I raised one finger, "Yeah, hold that thought, boss, please…" Not waiting for a reply I opened the door and shouted to the right desk, which was like twenty feet away, "Hey, Lindsey, move off, three pointer coming at ya!'' The crushed can mashed with a chocolate wrapper flied true, and struck the unlucky trash bin. I went back inside before I could hear any more profanity from the owner of the desk.
And was met with two blank stares that I choose to indulge slightly. "That's a score folks, thanks for watching."
Luckily Jimenez was faster to break the ice, shaking his head slightly, "That's not a three."
"Huh?" I got on a defensive, "There's like, six and a half or so meters, of course it's a three!"
"Ni lo sueñes, you're missing like half a feet."
Fucking imperial system, the gloves are off now, "I don't wanna hear about basketball where all they do is slam-dunking and jumping on three-pointers to boost commercials."
Jimenez actually had the gall to scoff, "And when's the last time the Dream Team lost to anyone from Europe in the finals? Like forty years or so, si?"
"Oh wow, the 'dream-team', where to even begin, let's start with the fact what those guys play ain't got nothing to do with real basketball as much as soccer and football are related as me and a Queen of England!"
A sharp whistle and a slam couldn't have come at the worst time, Edgar was standing, his wrinkles more prominent as he directed a stern glare, his boss-face at the two of us, but mostly me. He did that for a whole minute until he was certain there would be no more from Jimenez or me. Once satisfied, he huffed slowly, getting down on his leather chair, "Now if you are quite finished discussing the finer points of our favorite game, and by the way the distance is seven-twenty four Tristan, it's time for all the red tape to slowly unravel."
Well this was it, heads will roll, even if I had to hand it to Edgar on his delivery, he didn't sound any more angry or frustrated unlike I'd have expected him to be. With good reason, since it was that under his command that our- alright my actions that cast a shadow of departments capability.
Before Jimenez could add his two cents I stepped closer to the desk, my face for once gravely serious, "Boss, whatever you heard and think you heard, it was all me. I take full responsibility, I lost control and it was my fault, so if it's a brig or a boot that's waiting for me I'll take it. Just don't take it out on the lads, they had nothing to do with it.''
Funny that they kept our guys and those we, or rather I, mostly punched all over the room separated. I didn't even know we had more than one med bay. Or did we?
Edgar's eyes pinned me in place, like he was looking through me, but I got a slight softening for a second before he got his bearing, "While it's admirable you're ready to take the full brunt of what happened, I'm afraid that the final decision this time is not up to me."
I blinked, is he for real? Wracking my brain, my eyes widened slightly in recognition, this wasn't supposed to happen, "I see, of all the times they are just now concerned about a security breach… You know something's fishy when they put more attention to a bar fight than an assa-"
Suddenly there was a knock on the door and I couldn't help but stiffen slightly, my right arm giving an uncomfortable short spasms, "Dammit, pull yourself together!" I chanted slowly counting in my head, so much in a trance that I missed the door opening and two figures walking inside. It was getting rather crowded even for Edgar's more than humbly spacious office.
"… -gise for our tardiness Mr. Williams."
"Not at all Professor Lev, Director Animusphere. In fact, all the important participants are here and I think we can solve this rather quickly."
The disgusting feeling that creeped up my spine was getting even stronger, almost like a smell of burning land and smoke and ozone, and brimstone and…
"Ermentraut? God, Ermentraut are you still with us?"
I don't know who was shaking me and I didn't care, I slapped the arm away and went sideways until not even half a step I bumped into a wall, no way out. Squeezing my eyes and my right fist tight to get the blood pumping I found a new pair of eyes on me, one dark, but that's all I could see since the man kept squinting, and a pair of blazing amber-orange eyes.
"Who the hell are you guys?"
I could hear a slap of a skin meeting skin, but I didn't know if it was boss or Jimenez as I couldn't really divert the gaze from the two in front of me now. The girls face quickly began to contort and redden slightly, while the other guy, wait it was a Willy Wonka from before… He just kept starring rather amicably, his lips even faintly started turning up in a smile. Fake, fake, fake, dangerous, blood, dest- "Quiet, dammit!"
"… Disrespectful! How is even someone like him being employed and kept on our payroll?! It must be before my time, surely! I would have never allowed such hooligan pass the doors!"
Right, ouch. As my head was getting clearer and I could focus on the voice more, and the more I heard the more I couldn't decide if I should let my skills work and chat her up or to punch her in a face to shut her up. Still leaning towards the former, it's a really pretty face, despite her current state.
"Well, are you going to say anything or just stare like a halfwit… Please tell me he's at least socially functioning…"
Okay, now the scales are going other way, like, sheesh this is one of those high-maintenance ones of noble Lords. And most likely she's never seen someone naked that wasn't her ma or handmaiden.
"Now, now, Olga, I believe we have somewhat overwhelmed this young man, also it would seem he is prematurely released from the medical center, so he is still in a state of recovery, are you not?"
Although his entire presence was stiffing on a certain level I still couldn't exactly pinpoint, I'd have to use the opening he just gave me, "You're right, I was discharged earlier by my own request, so no reason to blame our good doctor there."
The fair-haired girl was skeptical, "Romani let you out early? That doesn't really sound like him. I didn't read the full report from the security team and the witnesses but I distinctly remember that there was a part and I quote 'People without consciousness being on the scene along with the assailant standing', end quote. Now I am by no means a medical doctor, much less an expert on physiology, but to knock out four mages for a non-magus is quite a feat… And the reason for using physical force was what again? A few inconsequential insults?"
"All due respect Ma'am, that report you have is pretty vague, it doesn't even cover the half of what happened." Bureaucracy, and a whole lot of incompetent, brown-nosing desk clerks, what a shitshow this is turning out to be.
The flush was back full force once more, "M-Ma'am?! What in the…! Do I look like some random staff member to you here, do you have any idea who we are? Who I am?!"
Not really, but I guess I'm about to find out.
Without even waiting for a positive or negative from me, she went on, "I am Olga Marie Asmlelt Animusphere, current Head of Chaldea Security Organization and your superior!"
Ah, so this was actually the Lord Willy-Nilly's daughter. Trying to picture his face real hard I couldn't find much resemblance except for the hair color. Hmm, must be on the mother's side then.
"And this here is Professor Lev Lainur! You are in the presence of the two most important members in the whole Chaldea, you should feel privileged we even decided to show for such small matter as a boorish fight between staff personnel! Which is your job to prevent not help perpetuate! You are making us all look like amateurs!"
Her lecture mode is definitely better than this, that's final. She'd be a good teacher if not for her temper.
"And we have lost enough time here as is, so I will even allow to hear out any words you have before we leave, not that it would change much."
So that's how it's gonna be, well can't say it wasn't a trip. Taking a deep breath and steeling myself before the final and only performance in front of the head honcho I cast a quick glance and looked at Jimenez's and his uncomfortable posture, he clearly wasn't in on it, but he wouldn't involve himself further. And that's alright, as for Edgar, he tried to remain cool and composed despite the girl's tirade and unnecessary expletives, but I could see the tightening of disapproval on his lips.
"Alright then, Madame Director, Professor… You've talked and I've listened, but now I'll talk and you'll listen." Their reaction was polar opposite, while she looked indignant with her now narrowed gaze, Professor Wonka on the other hand opened his eyes further, as if he studied some sample and wanted to save the image for later use.
"I've been here at Chaldea for some three years, I've explored almost every nook and cranny of this place and you know what I've found? You have a problem, a serious problem; I'm not talking about rusty pipes or tangled cables, short-circuited board or a giant spyglass crystal ball… You have a human problem. Ohhh, and where do I start there? A bunch of staff composed of half decent and the other half typically prejudiced Clock Tower goons who don't appreciate the little man's honest work, to a plethora of secret projects wrapped up tightly in a little bundles of formal contracts, Geas and what other magical protection to keep from prying eyes, because what would happen if someone took a glance and found Lord Director wasn't as good as we all thought he was."
The daughter jumped, expectedly, right at the mention of her father's name, but I'm surprised she kept herself up until this point, I honestly expected she'd fire a spell at me, propriety be damned.
But no, I still have my piece to say, "But no! If that wasn't enough, you have literal psychopaths working to protect humanity. What the fuck are they supposed to protect?! You want to fight evil with evil, that's fine let 'em kill each other, but you want to make something good from using evil as a starting basis… Don't make me laugh! You live in a delusion, and I for one will not stand by it! No more!"
The silence could be cut with a butter knife, and the only sound was my uneven breathing after my own speech, I'm not even sure where the second part came from, but I feel it in my bones that I've said all that had to be said, even if the other side didn't want to hear it.
Finally, Director Animusphere broke the silence, "Is that all you had?"
With a resolute nod I answered never breaking our gaze, I don't know why, but holding it against her was strangely making it easier on the previously suffocating atmosphere.
She broke the gaze first and looked at Edgar, "You know what is to be done, Mr. Williams. And I want no reports of this happening ever again, am I clear? You will keep up your work immaculate from now on."
Edgar hesitated before he responded curtly, "It'll be done, Director Animusphere."
Giving herself the permission to leave, since when did she even need it, she walked out of the office in a swish of long platinum blonde hair, her heels clacking steadily on her way out. Professor Wonka lingered by the exit just a bit longer, then he suddenly turned and tipped his hat in my direction. "It is a rare thing, having strength to bear the weight to such words. I wish you auf-wiedersehen, young Irmtraut." With those last words, he gently closed the doors behind him and left.
And I, the idiot that was, just stared to the other's opinion stupidly at the door, like it held the answers to some freaking question that lingered in the back of my mind. Who the hell is that guy? To the oppressive atmosphere was just lifted, although, neither boss nor Jimenez reacted any differently.
"That went well."
Rubbing my forehead, I turned a mild glare to Jimenez, "Oh yeah, surprised daddy's girl didn't try to curse me on spot."
I saw his hand reach to clutch lightly below his neck where I knew he kept a rosary under his uniform. "Mierda, you think she's like la bruja or something… Like, what if she makes your dick fall of or worse…"
Sometimes I forget who I'm working with here, "That's not how witchcraft works. And I'm positive she's straight as an arrow when it comes to magi, prolly wouldn't touch that with a ten meters pole." They are prideful creatures, most magi, relying on things they think below them works in my advantage here… Though I wouldn't doubt some would be below hiring proxies to do the dirty work. Money makes the mare go as they say.
Jimenez looked confused for a moment, "Ten foot pole, amigo. And how would you know that?"
Rolling my eyes along with my stiff shoulders I answered, "Trust me, in her case it's more like the length of a speedboat. People like us are so below her radar she's already forgotten our names by lunchtime. Which is good all things considering."
"I guess… But what if-…"
"Alright, gentlemen," Edgar interrupted before the conversation started to take a turn in which most in the office didn't have a clue about, "The impromptu trial went more or less how we expected it. Only thing left is to deal with final procedure of the aftermath."
Now that we were again in a more familiar environment Jimenez opened his mouth too late to protest, but I's more or less saw this coming, "Forget it," I stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder, giving a strong pat, "Boss is right, ain't nothing more to be done. Powers that be said their piece."
"But it isn't right, ya know!" Jimenez rounded on Edgar, a somewhat renewed passion entering his voice, "Jefe, I know as well as you do that Tristan's a pain in the ass, but he's actually one if not our best! We can't just leave him high and dry like this!"
Edgar's eyes narrowed slightly and he clamped his hands together leaning on his elbows, "Believe me, if I had a way to keep him around I would. That being said, I cannot overrule the decision from the head of the organization that writes our checks, they even gave us the courtesy of dealing with this by ourselves quietly. Which means they don't want any more blowback disturbing the main operation."
Translation; clean the shit you caused quietly, which is actually a byproduct of a century-old tradition of looking down on fiefdom thralls while we run our own thing your simple minds couldn't possibly comprehend. All for world peace of course. Corporate bastards, nothing's changed in that regard. Just painted with different colors.
And I was so looking forward to Chaldea New Year's surprise… Ah, well, when you've seen them once, you've seen them all. Wonder where I should schedule the next trip, I'm taking a month-long sabbatical. The question is; squander or penny-pinch? Tahiti or a budget cottage?
"Kid, you all right in there?"
Damn, got lost in thoughts again, I swear this place chewed me both inside-out. Next thing I'm leaking brain fluid from my ears. I sighed heavily, taking note that Edgar somewhere in my mini mind debate dismissed Jimenez, probably for the better. "I dunno what to tell you, boss. I still feel like shit, not from punching those a-holes though, it's like I've riding on a fast-imaging machine just taking info on and on till my brain just decides it's enough."
The old African American across me snorted, "Better be careful with that sonny, Tom Sizemore died of brain aneurysm. In any way, I won't ask you more on how you're feeling cuz I think I got a pretty good picture of what's going on inside that crazy head of yours."
Chuckling hollowly I pressed a fist to my head once more in hope to relieve some pressure, "Wow, not five minutes I'm fired I can see 'the talk' coming."
"The talk." Edgar said dryly, "I sure hope that by now you're familiar with birds and the bees you don't need me, if not so I pity whatever convent you grew up in. On a more serious note, I think I got some good news and some bad news. What would you like first?"
"The bad." I said not a second later.
"… Don't know why I even bothered." Edgar muttered under his breath, "Alright, here goes then; Tristan Ermentraut, by the order of the acting chief of Chaldea's Peace Unit, you are hereby relieved of active duty. Your release form and all the necessary documents pertaining your employment record will be filed, prepped and ready in two days time. You'll also need to hand over your staff uniform and any other equipment issued by CSO."
Okay, this was mostly standard stuff concerning my drop out, why would boss even put it like that, unless there's something I'm still missing here.
"Good news though, is that the transport won't be here for another two to three weeks with the latest batch, so in that time you'll be staying with us."
No way I'm hearing this right, "I'm sorry, boss, but just to be clear, you're taking me off work and letting me just, what, bury myself in my room and wait out the last train home?" Say it isn't so, come on Ed, say it ain't so… At that Edgar's mouth did the little quirk up, ohh come on old man, don't keep up with the damn suspense.
"Well, you might be unemployed as of now, top brass concerning and all, but who am I to tell you how to spend your free time you got left here. Still, what I certainly don't need to tell you is; keep your head straight, kid."
Up until now I believed there's no five swinging dicks in this place that can do what I do. Boss just convinced me there's still some light at the end of tunnel.
"We clear on this, kid?"
Guess we're back to that again, "Clear as Big Lord Willy's not so solved murder case, boss." At the mention of that, his face fell in disapproval, but I wasn't gonna stay on any more lectures, so I turned and headed for the exit myself, "Just off the record boss, you don't buy any of that shit they gave us in 2013, yeah?"
"… No, I don't." Before the youth left, he pointed a finger sternly at him, "Remember what I said."
"Uh-huh, heads-roll, spikes-wall something. See ya, old man!" Not in the mood for any more sagely advice on a proper procedure and conduct, since I'm technically not a part of the force anymore I didn't need to follow it. To a reasonable level, which now that I think of it makes me giddy as hell and a little turned on.
Which is what my face showed, either I sprouted a tail or I now had a Ryan Reynolds look plastered because everybody in the office stared, again. Oh boy, do I really want to do this now? Most guys here are as harmless to the environment as the next one but I can't exactly fault them for doing their jobs… No, that's a lie actually. I know exactly what they want to hear right now.
"Ask away already."
No one dared at first, so I looked pointedly at the one Mark Lindsay.
"So is it a boot or do we get to watch your sorry ass walk to executioner block?"
I made a double finger-gun motion pointed at him, "You can't easily kill greatness that's me, Marky-boy, sorry not sorry."
He stared unamused, and if I might say disappointed to hear the news, until taking out a piece of paper and starting to read, "Oh-kay that's Niels, Twombly, aaannnd Masuka getting dinner… Damn, good thing I didn't bet."
I can't say I didn't expect the boys to do this to me, but then again, the result is totally not fair, "What a joy was working with you guys. All these years and all I get is two and a half men in my corner." And the love is just pouring.
"Oye, I'd bet on you, but they wouldn't let me!" Jimenez indignantly shouted from next to the water dispenser.
Lindsay, still checking the paper and likely writing down the final score answered, "You were an inside man, man. You had firsthand info, unfair advantage, all that stuff I wouldn't trust you with my final will if the world came crashing down."
Funny how many world-ending jokes you get to make in a facility that designed for the purpose of doing the opposite. The enlightenment is just irresistible, I bet half my paycheck not a soul would cross here and not start throwing away dark humor and a bunch of apocalypse references around like an everyday office banter.
"So I should thank you for not betting against me?"
The man looked up at me briefly, "Hmm, what? No, I'd totally bet against you, it's just that being the official referee kinda forces me to be the neutral party. That was the agreement."
Yup, love is definitely in the air.
Time to make my exit then, just as I practiced since getting out of Ed's office, "Alright, listen up fellas, we all knew this day would come, so a few parting words from the bottom of my heart." I searched the room and spotted the Brit I was looking for, "Phil, you Twombs and Kato get to try my special bootleg. As for the rest of you little traitors…" I made a half-circle and raised both hands with only middle fingers out.
Message delivered, I laughed as much as they did and even more as I strutted out in style while whistling a merry tune. It wasn't so bad in the end, the time I spent here.
XxX
Those three weeks Ed was talking about? They flew me over worse than a cuckoo's nest. So I was in a way the paper someone had misplaced in a file cabinet, not here or there, not needed but still being the eyesore by existing.
Best part, they couldn't do a thing to make me disappear, though I suspect a good number wanted me either dead or dying. "Heh, pansies." Everyone including their great-grandma knew, and while I did everything to properly channel all that into something creative it was getting a little annoying how one side completely ignored your existence out of spite, the other being overly cautious to approach.
Well, fuck that, better a few trusted friends than a thousand admirers. Pretty sure that's what the world outside has fallen down to though. Poor bastards, I pity them. But what I don't pity is a Russian engineer whom I had to deliver my last drop of vodka to his workplace, which was between the walls of the reactor down under, just enough space to pass through, and where turning you'd scrape off of anything and everything.
Just like now, for like the fourteenth time since I entered, and this suit was a size too small for me. In a quiet words of Virgin Mary, blyad.
"Tris!" The unmistakable voice of the chief engineer called from dozen meters ahead, "Is that you?!"
This is so not how I wanted it going, but throwing caution to the wind I responded, "Yeah, it's me, Sunshine! And your darling is here with too!"
A few moments passed before a panicked answer came, "You brought my wife?!"
I couldn't help but chuckle loudly, my laugh echoing and his exasperated groan filling the air soon after, "Yeah, first-class pure, unspoiled and wrapped up with a nice bow, all for you and me to enjoy!"
"… You know, your jokes are terrible, tovarisch." I could hear his footsteps approach, and lo and behold, the white hazmat suit along with a flashlight came in sight, "Huh, you actually brought it. Come, follow me."
I sighed, the things we do, "Course I brought it, my word is bond, I ever failed you before Art?" Artyom just hummed noncommittally, and after a brief struggle we reached the giant compartment where the safety room separated the reactor from us, "Man, must've cost a fortune to bring this thing here and making it work." Honestly I was in awe, my first time actually seeing one of these, although I can tell most is pretty modified, this isn't the actual power plant the design mostly different than if we were in the actual one. The basis were the same otherwise, and only before we entered the control room and were we allowed to take off the protective suit and put it on the used rack.
"This is next level, doubt even at CERN they have anything close to our rig here."
"You don't say…" I muttered, coming from Art who knows his stuff, that's a high praise, "You sure your pals won't mind me? Don't wanna leave any bad impressions after they ship my sorry ass away."
He just waved me off, opening the doors for me, "Does your Pope shit in woods? Trust your friend Artyom a little, da?"
"I ain't Catholic, man." At his questioning look I elaborated, "Look, the whole schism happened a millennia ago cuz they couldn't agree we should pray standing or sitting, with icons or no icons and whose Godly word and gospels gotta be followed." Sugar on top, they can't even agree on which side uses sign of the cross properly, shows you how far we've got. "If prayers are honest then they reach God, I don't think he cares much 'bout how you go about before that."
Case in point, if I told this down at the Holy See or in front of one of the officials I'm sure there'd be a Black Key made with my name on it. Artyom regarded me for a second and shrugged, his longer shaggy hair and beard unkempt, how his wife puts up with his habits I'd never know. Maybe she's even into it… "Yeah, not going there, no way."
The inside of a control center looked like a freaking Enterprise command center, screen and all. I don't even wanna begin to wander what each of the switches and handles are for here, it honestly makes my department looks like a house of desk jockeys jeez.
We were one of the smallest units in Chaldea after all, closely followed by Furniture department.
I felt a pull and saw where Artyom was pointing for me to not lag behind, "Why'd you even wait the day before last for this? You knew I had kept this in stock, why not ask for it earlier?"
Seemingly ignoring the question Artyom started rummaging for something under his assumed work desk until finding what he was looking for with a loud 'Ahah!' I stared in mild bemusement at two shot-glasses. "Now we are ready."
Oh, I can see where this was going, and I'm not sure I want to take that road now, "Art, my man, I appreciate the effort really I do, but I can't." His disappointment was almost palpable as I handed him the container where the bottle of vodka was packed, he wasn't looking insulted, but sad in fact. I'm not too sure I even want to know.
"Why?"
A million dollar question there, "Where do I even begin… Look, Art, any other day I'd be all for it, but today… I just can't. The clock's hands already punched my last stay, and looking back, all the things that happened everything I tried it's just not ringing out… It's-It's hollow, ya know. Does that make sense to you?"
"Makes perfect sense." Artyom said clearly and uncapped the bottle, mostly ignoring silly Tristan's rant he carefully poured both small glass containers. "Which is why it's perfect time for drink."
"You got an advanced degree in engineering and technology and that's the best you got?" I laughed in disbelief, some heads curiously peering at us but we ignored them, "You must've slept over philosophy and social science back home, huh?"
"I went to learn to fix machines not people." Taking the glasses he passed the other to Tristan, the man gingerly taking it, "How you think I managed through those boring classes, ugh, there was this old professor, I forget… Ivanovich, yes! Hah, what a piece of work he was! Anyone passes his class he must cheats very good or reads too much Marx. Blyad."
"Your poor wife." I said sarcastically, but slowly out of funk, that's how Artyom Alekseyevich Volkov was, knows ins and outs of a nuclear reactor, but when drinking is involved he can talk your ear off about anything and you'd end up leaving in higher spirits than when you started. And speaking of spirits…
Finishing his glass in one gulp before talking back, Artyom sighed in satisfaction, "Good stuff there… And what do you mean? My Nadia is the best!"
"She's something alright, putting up with a Sasquatch like you."
"What's Sass-qwatch?" He looked at me weirdly. Go figure, guess not everything reaches the other side, or he just never had the time actually get to know the subject.
"Something like a Yeti, but from Canada." At that Artyom adopted a pensive look, before chugging another shot while I was still on my first one.
"Yeti, hmm? My babushka tells us stories, me and my cousin," Here he shuddered visibly, before deciding the best medicine was right next to him, "Hui, every time we act like little children, Oleg and me… Ever heard of Baba Yaga?"
"Slavic folklore, meddling mystic figure, some say evil witch some say good, some neither… Others that's she's some kind of bringer of bad news or winter weather. Lives in a cottage with scaly legs and flies in mortar. Of course most of that is just tall tales since witches and their covenants tend not to leave many traces behind and aft-uuhhh…"
The room appeared ghastly quiet, only the beeping sounds of different devices permeated the air and the breathing of six other staff members… Shit, I really said that out loud that everyone heard me?
"How-Net-Why do you know all that?"
"..." I nearly kicked my self in the ass for blurting out, I found a brief respite in my own shot before seeing that Artyom was waiting for my answer, well how to go about this now? "I had a lot of spare time to read."
No, forget it, the elephant in the room wouldn't be impressed with that.
"People do things in spare time, da, but my friend you have weird taste." He reached the bottle and filled our shots again.
This time, before he tried I put my hand over my glass blocking his attempt, "Look, Art, not that it's any of your business of what I do in my room with just me and four walls keeping me company," His hand was still frozen in a tilted position along with the bottle, "So in light of not making our final goodbye a nasty one I'll ask you as a friend to stop."
Stop as in both prying and making me drunk enough to start spilling anything I didn't want or need anyone else to know.
He looked at me, expression hurt and as much as I wanted to retract anything, I had to put my foot down on this. He carefully retracted the bottle and set it aside, then he leaned back with a sigh.
"Alright, I won't push you."
He stared at his tiny reflection in the glass and then my mine, and I wondered how distorted must my image look to his eyes if even Artyom could pick up on how wrong I fell. The silent storm approaching drowned in the echoes of thunder. Anyone normal would, no should get clear out of the blast zone.
Boy did I bring the veil of depression down, have to find something to distract us, "So, what's with those eggheads running upstairs? Something big going on?"
"That? Think they starting with the main Rayshifting process, we are all running last minute checkups here… Wish I could see it once, all that light-show."
That's today? Must've been the reason for all that commotion up top. Time to see what the A Team can do. "Good luck to them."
Artyom offered me another shot of finest spirits in the world before being rejected again, "You would know more than me here, ever met those men uhhh, маг, whatever you call it…"
I tried not to snort at his awkwardness as he stumbled over words, he was a man of science first of course, "Want an honest opinion?" Receiving a nod and a pleased sigh after he downed yet another shot of vodka I continued, "It's all monkey in a blender bullshit like you've never seen in your life."
His stifled laugh made him choke on a saliva mixed with alcohol I reached around and with a good two hard pats Artyom leaned forward and let out a strain of hacks, "Behl-hehe! So we are-haha-fucked either way!" Followed by a bunch of Russian words I had hard time catching.
"I know, right? Fate of the world in a hands of certified lunatics and sociopaths all topped with the UNs and Mage Associations seal of approval, how great is that, eh!" In truth there was probably enough yellow tape and paperwork to bury a country the size of New Zealand.
It brought a new round of laughter from my drinking buddy, and I swear the faces of staff around us listening were all a mix of exasperate amusement. The brief respite from the gloom reality was interrupted when Artyom's private comm started ringing with a joyous melody with a lively orchestration. Took me a few seconds to recognize Pyotr Tchaikovsky's Trepak from Nutcracker. As if they don't put it in half New Year/Christmas movies.
But contrasting to the happy melody Artyom's face took a complete opposite every second he spent speaking to the earpiece. "… I'm coming right up."
Looks like there's always something that needs fixing, I really admire these guys, if it weren't for them we'd all be blown up to stratosphere. "And like that duty calls. Welp, guess we better wrap it up… Why're you giving me that look?"
"Because you are going with!" He grinned, quickly stashing away the bottle and small glasses.
I raised a skeptical brow, my own smile strained and I refused to move from spot no matter how much pressure Artyom he tried to apply I was like a boulder. "Apparently not. Mind telling me what's this all about? There's not much here I can help with… Unless you want me to rough some feathers."
The engineer stopped to blink, looking at me dumbly, "What 'feathers' got to do with this…? Нет, нет,just please come, I will owe you for this! Promise, comrade's honor!"
Tough luck on me making good on that promise, but I mentally shrugged, I'll be gone in a few days and it's not like I got anything better to do. Every alley and avenue I tried in the last weeks hit a roadblock. "Okay, wow, someone's desperate. Let's suit up and you can tell me on the way there what's this all about."
And just on the way to our destination did it occur to me, "You do realize I'm technically no longer employed by Chaldea? Your colleagues might not take my presence too kindly." Not that those bothered didn't try to hide it, but most kept to sneers and stink eyes which bounced off my invisible armor, but still it was getting kind of annoying after some time.
"Hmph, they can kiss my Piterech ass. And what they gonna do, throw you outside in snow?" He waved off my concerns, "I'd pay good money to see them try."
No Art, I'd save you a front row seat free of charge, you magnificent bastard. As we walked in a slight hurried pace I took in every turn and crevice, while I knew the Chaldea's complex quite well, there are parts which even I was forbidden to enter without clearance and those I rarely ventured to that was reserved for our trusty mechanics. It didn't take us more than ten minutes to arrive there where it looked like some sort of big rotating coil and whatever that I didn't have enough school to know the name of.
"Volkov, you finally here, I didn't think we had to… What's he doing here?"
Here we go, I guess it was too much to ask for some discreetness, three guys were present besides us. Judging by accent this one is from India, and from the other two one must be the maintenance and the second one is either a magus or some such.
"We don't really have time for whats and whos, Jagdish, but I think you all know Tristan here, I asked him to come help us." Artyom reasoned the best he could, and while I think it might work on Jagdish the other one however.
"Ridiculous," The one on the farthest side let out with his arms crossed, "You seriously think this barbarian lack-wit can be of help. I'd have thought you all learned men at the very least to know a bad idea from when its standing next to you."
"What's the situation here then?" I asked, trying with great effort to ignore the obvious prick that was glaring at me from his safe spot.
Jagdish gave Artyom a look and after receiving a nod he began explaining, "Frankly, I'm not sure myself what to make of this. We were doing a routine inspection before the generator can be shifted to full power but then I stumbled of this anomaly here… Uh, come take a look."
The only Magus in a group followed our every move with his eyes, and just before I had to lean down an awkward angle to inspect I turned slightly to him, "What about you?"
He blinked, as if dumbfounded by the idea I even asked something, "Pardon?"
Trying not to roll my eyes and turn this into the direction nobody wanted I tried to play nice, "What's your input on this? Did you find any traces of tampering? Distortions or circuit expelled Od?" I asked, my voice coming out as an echo as I tried to squeeze my upper body through the opening. For the love of all, whoever designed this didn't expect a guy of my proportions.
It took almost forever before he offered anything, but eventually; "… Other than a standard Reinforcing I found nothing."
Well that explains the above average sturdiness of materials, Lord Willy-Nilly knew who to hire. Than again, it's not as if even they didn't make mistakes however painful would be of a Magus to admonish his own work. "Hmm, so if not the plating then I'd wager a guess it's about the wedges, is that right?" I extracted myself carefully.
Jagdish was quicker to answer this time, "Exactly. At first you'd not find anything wrong with them, because there's nothing wrong in fact, as you can see."
The Magus cut in more aggressively this time, "Which is why I told you this is all a waste of our time!"
Jagdish seemed disheartened, his head lowered under the critic, and I was surprised Artyom didn't jump into the conversation more since this was all his great idea. Guess it was up to me to salvage it, boy I was hoping to avoid the rough exchange of words here.
"But there is something amiss here, right? Tell me what's got you so worried, and don't skip anything you might think would help." Like they like to say; the devil is in the details.
"Now hold up there…!"
"You got somewhere else to be, mister? Go right ahead, I'm sure we muggles can manage just fine." Artyom snorted in amusement at the reference, but covered it with a light cough lest he became the new target of the Magus' ire.
"Mister? I'll have you know my name is James Goodfellow, third in line and my Rank is Fes!" He finished the introduction a little late, posture rigid and hands crossed as if he is the greatest thing that came since sliced bread among the four of us. Supposedly in his head that was true, wonder what his family specializes in then if he's already Fes so young?
If I could I'd have picked my nose just to show how impressed I was, but I just turned back to Jagdish and told him to continue, "Go on, don't mind Jimmy Conway here, I'm sure the Director would like to hear about this when you bring her the report." I probably shouldn't even use her name so casually like I'm the expert, but just as long as it gets the flow going.
"R-Right, so as I was saying before being interrupted twice," he cheekily managed to add and if not for me here I'm sure that Goodfella would've chewed him out real good, "There's nothing wrong with the wedges at first glance, but what I find odd about it is that that's exactly what is wrong. They are brand new, and with the rough ridges around tapped holes also show somebody who didn't get a good job at unscrewing the wedges and then replacing it with new ones."
"That means absolutely nothing. For all we know it could have been a sloppy job by one of your handymen that tried to cover for his incompetence." Goodfella Jimmy piped in helpfully. Jagdish visibly twitched at being called that and his colleagues, you could see even with the protective suit.
And any other time at any other place many might've agreed with him, loathe as I am to agree. But in this place surrounded with so many people with different backgrounds of various sets of skills it tends to leave those tasked with supervising the safety on a paranoid side more than other.
There's nothing more I like than breaking bad boredom with my very two hands, "Alright then gents!" I clapped hard, though not enough to produce the force to tear the gloves. "Seems we got a case on our hands here, which is good for us and totally terrible for our bosses and whoever might get yelled at when we're done." Too bad I'd never get to see.
"What is going through that dangerous head of yours?" Artyom asked with a slight smile as if he didn't already know.
"Let it be know for all time Art, that Tristan is the man who'd risk his neck for his brother man… Some present company not included." I didn't even have to point out to whom it referred since the said company tightened his arms so much around the suit it started showing air pockets. "On the main topic again, I suppose what got you suspicious over the whole thing is that there wasn't a scheduled maintenance for this particular area, how close am I?"
"Hōya-I mean, yes of course!" Jagdish started almost excitedly, before pulling out a list and beckoning us closer, "Look, here! Our crew operate on schedule, and there was no reported malfunction to the cover in the last six months to this sector since last time it was repaired, it struck me as weird to find that somebody did service without checking in with me or any of the supervising chiefs."
Now it was getting interesting, "But did you check with anyone from the Maintenance crew about spare parts gone missing?" Artyom chimed in, tapping his helmet's bottom since it blocked access to his beard.
Jagdish gave a slow nod but then shrugged his shoulders, "I did ask Weinburg and he told me he hadn't sent anyone here in the last four weeks or so… Also he did mention a rather unusually large requests for welding parts and spare pegs…"
Artyom worried his lip hard, and who could blame him, if it did turn out to be a dud the consequences might be more than he could handle. Finally with a weary sigh he said, "Khorosho, if I learned anything at the university, it is that we are good scientists only because we ask right questions. And I am not going to back down now. Tristan."
"Yup?"
"I am volunteering you to take the first look."
What a bastard, "Heh, what's the matter? Scared you're gonna find will-o-wisps and ghosts inside?"
He didn't even bat an eye at my jape, "Honestly, now that I know you slightly better… Yes. You might get off on those things but I like my head like this. Handsome and untouched just for moya Nadya."
"Shiiiiiiiiiiit, whatever happened with bros before hoes… Alright, bring me a wrench and a crowbar just in case so we can get this show on a road."
"I must protest this!" Once again reality rears its ugly head, and we were doing so great by now.
"Don't worry your pretty little head Jimmy, I promise not to blow us up, gonna be real gentle with her, yeah." As Jagdish provided me with necessary tools I made to return back to the shaft.
"That is not my name, for the last time, you will cease this madness!"
Ohh, the little pup has teeth, I though as I tossed the metal wrench a few times before looking at him, with the opened stance he's probably thinking of getting one up on me. "Okay, say you fire up your Magic Circuits and get into a tussle with me here, you really think you alone can put me down when your pals couldn't?"
James looked seconds from following on that before he held himself back, his face openly showing disgust, "So this is the kind of person you are, Ermentraut? The moment it doesn't go your way you resort to only thing a brute like you knows."
One day, one day… The mantra spun in my head, but did I really want to feed the idiot the wrench in my hands, before shrugging and giving a mock bow, "I am nothing if not a man who can back his words. In any case, you can either help or run away to tattle us to Miss Director OMAA for all I care, but I'm doing this and certainly don't need your approval."
As Tristan said his final piece and went to his work, which was inelegantly squeezing and cursing all the while, the scion of generations of Goodfellow before him turned to the last resort, "This man is no longer a part of Chaldea, least of all a certified mechanic to handle this! You can't seriously be thinking this is a good plan!"
Jagdish obviously didn't bother replying, too busy thinking of a number of excuses for being a part of this needless charade, but Volkov's steady gaze turned to him and without fear or respect he said, "I do think."
The young Magus' brain sputtered for a second before rebooting, "Then so be it. I'm reporting this right now, let's see what you have to say for yourselves in front of Director and the others." He was not going to let these three drag him sinking with them, as a member of his proud family he will not allow himself to fall in such undignified way.
Jagdish was fretting with his hands in the same spot while Volkov just casually leaned over only scant two meters from where Ermentraut's lower half was sticking out.
"You are quiet suddenly, Tris. Still alive down there?" Artyom knocked on the metal producing sound that Tristan could likely hear more on his side than the others.
For a while Tristan's grunts were heard and then creaking of metal being bend, which Jagdish found odd because the crowbar was still with him. "Should we…" He gestured to Tristan's legs lamely, making a vaguely pulling motions.
Artyom held his hand, "Wait for it. Tris, I count to five then we pull you out; Odin, dva, tri… Ah there you are."
Tristan groaned and stretched his back, that was really bad for so many parts of body he had to hand it to all the people who work sewers, vents and such, because this was really uncomfortable. "'Odin' is one in Russian? You guys are weird."
Artyom rolled his eyes, "'Ad-in' I will teach you other time. What did you find?"
Tristan held up two fingers, "Two things, dunno which is dumber honestly." His gaze swept to the Indian crewman and James respectively before continuing, "So here's thing; Jagdish was right, someone totally tampered with the metalwork there. The other thing is we're gonna die if we stand here in the next half hour… Less now I think."
Artyom promptly threw his own head in the shaft and came back not half a minute, he turned to the other two present while Tristan was tinkering with something on his suit. "Uhh, da, there is a bomb down there."
Jagdish was stunned on spot while the Goodfellow magus on the other hand; "What?!"
"Bomb. Like gunpowder and fire and in modern times it's… "
"I know what it is, dammit!" Goodfellow bellowed misting his suit's visor temporarily which only served to amuse Tristan further. "And why are you so calm about it? You found it, now fix it!"
I regarded him as if he was stupid, which he likely is about this, "You want me to fix it? In case you never read my file I ain't an EOD expert, but I guess it don't matter that much to you does it." Seriously, the sheer amount of training needed to disable an explosive and not to mention not getting blown in the process. I envy the guys in bomb squads who had to learn all that, but I do not envy that they have to stand that close to a literal ticking time bombs counting down to their possible death.
But there are more important things now that we found the bomb. That was the easy part, the hard one is what to do after.
"Um, shouldn't we sound the alarm for evacuation?" Jagdish, the one sensible man spoke.
I nodded, "He's right. Art, call it in and let them patch you through to my guys from Peace Unit. We're gonna get clear out the area away from the blast zone so we need to move the staff away to the safe area. I'm thinking the top, warehouse and port hangars would be the best."
"Hold a moment."
I stifled a sigh of exasperation, this was so not the time, "Yes Mr. Goodfella, somethin' not clear, you skipped the evac procedure drills?"
James didn't rise to the bait, but was still giving Tristan nasty looks down his nose, "We are hardly pressed for a complete evacuation plan just for one bomb. First thing we should do is report to the top and wait for further instructions. Meanwhile we will seal this area completely and reinforce the seals in case of aftermath shocks."
"Hmm, yeah, from a perspective of a magus it's a pretty solid plan." Artyom and Jagdish gave me the look and my next words didn't surprise them any more than Goodfella, "But I'm gonna go with a 'no'."
"Ugh!" He recoiled as if shocked, "Oh I've just about had it with this! You are not a Chaldean member anymore and I for one do not have to follow anything you say!"
"No, you don't, but there are two members of Chaldea's Engineering with more knowledge on it than you and me combined so I say we listen to them. What do ya say, Art? Jagdish? Are we doing this or what?"
"I know nothing about bombs," Artyom responded while dialing Tristan's former colleagues, "And I don't know how much damage this one can cause, but that still isn't the only problem here."
He caught on, good man Artyom, "Exactly, this one I'm guessing alone can prolly cause some damage and knock us down few weeks back, but nothing much since reactor won't be close to melting point. Somebody's planned this, and they want to take us out, so one bomb isn't enough to cause CSO any permanent breakdown… But more of them…" I didn't want to think about the possibility.
"You can't possibly know that without further investigation."
"Could be," I finally managed to set my earpiece after some struggle. Damn, these suits really need more customization. "But I'm not willing to take that risk."
The magus nostrils flared again and without further ado, he turned his back and started walking away, "Fine, do as you wish, but I will not be apart of this disastrous mess."
What a nice magus he is. I honestly half expected him to try and physically stop us, but I guess the bad word spread fast. Not good for my reputation on the other hand it's not as if the loss totally outweighs the gain. Infamy suited me like fine tailored tux. Now to get back on track, I couldn't do much but I still had connections that could help me, seeing as Artyom was still busy talking with who I thought was Ed, I needed to reach another one.
A sleepy voice answered on the other end of the line, "Yeshhh, what is it?"
How adorable, "Wakey-wakey Frog Princess, we got a bit of a situation here."
There was a lengthy pause before the woman's voice snapped back, "… Svoloch, is this Tristan?! It is you isn't it, you mudak!"
Wow, that was one hell of a wake up call, gotta say I'm impressed. "Uh, yeah, not sure what those mean but like I said we have ourselves…"
"Don't talk to me like we're still friends!" There was a crash of something and Nadya cursed more, "Hui, is my Artyom there? Did you get him to drink again…? You did didn't you? You corrupted my love with cheap vodka and now you're forcing him into depravity with you and half-assed pranks!"
"Nadia, listen to me…!" And the vodka isn't cheap, how dare she!
That got Art's attention from his call briefly, "Wait, what? Is that moya Nadya on the line? Uhh, not you Mr. Edgar… I-"
"No you listen, nemtsy, if I have to put up with another hangover I swear-"
"For the love of God, woman, we've got Code Red!"
"Bozhe moy."
At least that calmed her down and the rant, boy could she throw insults over the call, "Afraid so," I indicated for Artyom and Jagdish to follow me out, "Sorry I'm messing up your beauty sleep, but I need you to focus. Here's what we're gonna do, Art's already on line with my ex-boss sorting the details, but I need you to go to hangar on the way alert those up that this is not a drill when the alarm goes off."
"I never thought we'd have this on South Pole…" The sound of rustling clothes was heard, then a sigh, "I'm going, will try my best. How long do we have?"
"Including the time since we found out and wasted with our magus friend here, 'bout twenty minutes or so."
Nadia's disbelieving laugh was herd, "Well, I guess I worked with less, now time to stir up the concrete jungle."
"I hear ya, show 'em who's the Queen of the Jungle there." The only thing I heard before she hung up was a slight chuckle. I'll take it.
Artyom quickly caught up to Tristan and tapped his shoulder a little more roughly than he had to. "Why is the first person you called moya Nadya?"
"Dude, who better to have on call than your wife, and her band of stevedores?" Nadia wasn't the head, technically, the folks working on supplies up were more of a warehouse dogs than anything, but it was Nadia who was in charge of getting it done as smoothly as it can. Let's hope she can reason with here boss fast enough. "Also, what did Ol' Ed had to say? You didn't mention my name right? Cuz he might've thought it was a prank."
Maybe not, but best not to risk it. I had collected some credit with the department but lost it all the same with some of my more unproportional acts.
"Of course not. Mr Williams is a reasonable man."
Might as well be, "Okay, then we still got a few minutes before alarm goes on, so we should-…" Soon as I said that the light switched to read and a rotating dome in the corner started doing it thing. "Sonuvabitch." No second guess as to whose blame was this, "Oh when I get my hands on that little wanker, I'm gonna…!"
"We don't have time!" Jagdish yelled panicked, his finger pointed at the disappearing exit doors, "They started to seal the area off!"
Oh just great, we're gonna have four hundred pound heavy fifty millimeter thick steel doors between us and crispy oven. "Fuck it." Am I gonna stand and accept that as an outcome because a paranoid, uncooperative magus couldn't follow directions. Heck no!
"Tris, stop!"
I didn't. I ran, and ran and my suit caught all sorts of tears, then I tore off the helmet, we were far enough for radiation not to be the problem. The real problem are the last door, which were already more than half closed. I could make myself go through it, I knew I could reach the distance just in time, but not my two stragglers. My mind resolute, I decided on the only course of action Tristan approves.
"Oh Maa…" Jagdish uttered in awe. No matter how big a person like Tristan is, he couldn't possibly hold those doors like that on his own.
Which is exactly what the man with a growing purple sheen, bulging veins on his face was doing. "W'a ya waitin' fo'?!"
There was barely space to fit through, Jagdish was smallest so he managed just beneath the waist, Artyom would regret the day he let himself go these last months.
Tristan growled, removing one arm from holding the heavy metal contraption and pushing Artyom away with, and by doing that lost whatever leverage over the incoming Newton force that would squash him in half.
It turns out, that a box of tools in these situations, can cause ripped clothes, bloody brow, friction burns on skin and a very panting but alive Tristan still in one peace.
I exhaled, the stale air from underground air conditioners burning in my lungs, my bloodshot eyes landing on Jagdish who watched me as if I'm some sort of descendant out of many Hindu deities, "I owe you one," A beat and a screeching crunch made me turn my head back where the door finally sealed us off from the immediate danger, "I'll get you a new one."
The poor man just gave a hesitant nod and a thumb up.
"You on the other hand," I glared at Artyom whose sweaty face was now free of his own helmet, "Are going on a diet." Can't believe Nadia was right, he's gonna need to cut back and promptly.
"Not everyone has monster stomach like you do." He spoke between pants, "But wooohooooh, we made it! Blyad, I say we find that little shit mag so Tristan can beat him up… And then we bet on how long he stays conscious. I bet one minute."
"Um, w-we have a more bigger concerns right now, Dr. Volkov."
Artyom looked torn between ideas but relented, "Bah, fine! But we find him later and then we let Tristan on him."
"Alright, alright," So this is how it feels when others talk like you're not here, "We can hash out that later, now you two head to the control room, do what you have to and pull your asses upstairs with us."
Artyom looked at his friend, amazed at how quickly he seemed to recover from stress and strenuous activity that bodybuilders and reported strongmen would be jealous. "What will you do?"
Something stupid, "I'll let you know when I'm through with it." Only then we'll see how stupid it was.
He looked like he had more to say, but at the end he grabbed the taller man by the shoulder, giving it the strong pat, "Spasibo bratan… We will finish that drink when we meet again."
I smirked, the things I would do, "I'll hold you to that, keep the bottle safe." And nothing else was said as we went our separate paths. At the end of the day people were professionals if nothing else, you could expect from most to follow protocol.
XxX
Me and my big mouth.
"Should we head to the exits now?"
What?
"I hear it's all a drill, so why hurry?"
The.
"Really, but it sounded really important."
Actual.
"What are you guys worrying about? They're still going with the Rayshift, that means everything's good!"
Fuck!
Before I had a meltdown of epic proportions, I ran through the first group, the fat one who sounded confident didn't see me until his mates started gaping at my approach.
"Oh man, that's him! The-!"
"Hello boys, any reason in particular you're not following Chaldea's clearly written and tested evac routes?" While the trio slowly started to crawl away the fat one stood frozen, but hopefully not speechless. I tried to seem friendly, as much as a bruised hand and dried blood on part of my forehead makes me look friendly.
"W-W-We, uhh, well," He turned his head back only to see the distance of friendship he shared with his colleagues. Tristan's bloody face was still there though, "My, uh non, our chief in charge told us there's no actual danger, uhhh…" Sweat began to pour down his forehead and right on his glasses.
Tristan's eyes narrowed, "What's your position…" Tried to get a glimpse of him from past memories but none came, he sounded Flanders that's for sure.
"Eh, Jingle Abel Meuniere, I uhh work on the Coffin staff and mission control… Sir… "
Right, Jingle Bells, that one goes down in notes, "I'm no 'sir' sonny, where's your shift supervisor then, and who exactly told you not to evacuate?"
The next line of bullshit that he wanted to utter was interrupted by a loud cough and a sound of one angry pace of shoes clacking on the floor, I turned to the side and was greeted with an unimpressed look of a pretty homely blonde in a dark and orange uniform. This one I knew fortunately, "Penhandle."
A stiff smile hid her throbbing vein, "Penhaligon, it's Penhaligon you big man-child. Now why are you harassing my colleagues?"
I clasped Jingle Bell in a one armed hug before he could slither away, damn this guy's got sweating glands problem, "Well there appears to be a case of clogged ears in Chaldea not the hear alarm that loud… And why's there no alarm right now, with a big angry red lights and stuff?"
"Because it was clearly a case of false alarm. And clearly since you are here it was all you behind it, right? You want to ruin everyone's afternoon and daily routine just to have one last laugh for how you got fired, is that it?"
If only you knew dear, "Trust me if I wanted that, by the way I'm not saying I do, it would involve water sports, go-go dancers popping from giant cakes and Ed Sheeran."
Sylvia pinched the bridge of her nose, "I swear to all creation, you are the most obnoxious, bullheaded, impertinent and cheekiest bastard that I ever came across." And she's seen some already from the Clock Tower but never in this condensed highly concentrated form of six foot two and two fifty pounds of muscle… "No, no, no! Not again!"
Tristan nodded slowly, but it was weird how her face flushed at the end, "A'ight, you got your own problems, so I'm gonna go and knock on every big door that looks important until I find someone who's willing to give me straight answers." The control room would be my best shot, I still knew the way, most did.
I searched the contact list and dialed the next best solution while the confused staff went one way to to the designated safe are and the others a completely opposite, "Come on Twombs, pick up, man." Nothing. Okay, that only meant that he was likely busy coordinating those smart enough to listen to the warning of impending doom.
"Hey wait!"
As for the other half of the herd.
I quickened my pace making a left turn that led straight to control room, "Walk and talk Penhandle, I'm going through."
"Oh damnation… Why are so convinced that there's some sort of attack happening?"
"I'm sorry I forgot to bring the bomb for a presentation, I'll remember it next time. Want more details, you can talk to your friend Goodfella something… He's actually the one who sounded the alarm."
Sylvia pondered for a second recognizing the poorly spoken name, "James was there… But that doesn't make sense. We got word from Professor Lainur himself that it's been some sort of mistake."
"What?" That made me pause just outside the door of my destination, I slowly turned to look at Sylvia, she was winded a bit, but surprised that I stopped for a simple name. "Lainur? Funny looking geezer with a hat, dresses like Willy Wonka?" She almost laughed at my description but restrained and managed to put a frown of disapproval, pity nobody saw it but me.
"He-uhha, I mean, his name is Professor Lainur and he's Director Animusphere's closest confidant, you should show some respect."
"I'll respect once this is all sorted out, right now nobody gives three shits if the floor's to suddenly blows up under us." I tried opening the doors and then I remembered you need a pass, and my limit was barely on essential. The only way I got down was thanks to Art's permission. "Gonna give me a hand here?"
Sylvia stared at me blankly, "I don't know, after how you've been treating me and the others I'm quite reluctant to do anything."
Are we really going to have this kind of conversation, right when time is as precious as flint to a caveman, "If I say I'm sorry and really mean it, would you just look past it. You're an alright gal in my books Penhaligon, but those wastes of air that call themselves honorable Clock Tower researchers had it coming." And I will not ever step away from that opinion. No, it was a straight out fact they deserved worse than a few bruises and busted lips. If I didn't have that much alcohol there would've been more broken bones.
Sylvia regarded the man before her, his actions painted him as a brute and boor. He used fists when everything else failed and wasn't afraid to make his opinion known. She never much cared for one way or the other in Chaldea. Be they Magus or common folk, they were all gathered here for a reason, cogs in a complex machine. Although spoken with caution or sneer, Tristan's presence brought an odd sort of comfort. A peace of mind so to say.
She heaved a breath, if she was wrong about this there would be hell to pay, "I must be out of my mind to do this." The dirty brown brow rose her way and she reached closer to Tristan, their bodies almost touching. "If I let you in and it blows in my face, I need you to comprehend the sheer gravity of sinking hole I'd be thrown in." Sticking herself on a skinny limb like this wasn't what a proper Magus should do, her parents would be revolted.
Before Tristan had even a chance for a smart-ass retort, Sylvia started walking away, then faster and faster until she was out of sight, with only something thin pressing in his trousers.
"Heh," I let a small chortle, this is becoming a bad habit today. "I'm making a bad habit out of accruing debts." How did it all come to this? I wondered as I used the pass to get in the main control room.
Two dozen faces suddenly turned towards me, the dozen stooges in the background were ignored in favor of the two important faces I immediately recognized. Wasn't hard with the color palette, "Hey Mashmellow-Girl." I greeted with a slight pat which got a cute blush from a teen's face.
"M-Mister Tristan… What are you doing here?" The pinkette asked, now trying to fix her hair and glasses that stood awkwardly on her nose.
This girl, I couldn't but give a slightly bigger smile when in her presence, "Well I was hoping to find you today to say proper goodbye but you weren't in your room. Shame, I had that special hot chocolate with three marshmallows and strawberry sundae ready." I left it to Roman to deliver if he ever saw Mash, but judging by her reaction he didn't. What a dumbass.
"I'm so sorry, Mister Tristan, I was at the…" She suddenly stopped mid sentence, feeling the angry presence behind her.
Boy, I had to save the girl from the immediate shitstorm that was coming our way, so I wisely shielded her by stepping in front of a nearly fuming Madam Director.
"You."
I nodded resolutely, the dragon's maw was ready to spew fire, so I had to be ready to face it with every ounce of my being, "Me. Now I know what you're probably thinking, but there's a good explanation for it." I was aware of another pair of eyes watching from up the panels but didn't react even if my instinct told me I should go and squash it like a worm.
Her smile was vicious, her eyes slanted, and her form trembling like a willow in a breeze, "Is that right? Now how could I possibly, a delusional woman like me comprehend what you might be thinking is a good explanation? I obviously live in my own little world far, far away from yours to understand..."
"Holy shit, she actually remembered when I lost my cool and trash-talked her…"
"…But it's all fine, because it just now occurred to me, the solution was starring right in my face all this time and I just now noticed." She raised a hand. "So I pass this judgment, here and now, let it be known that I, Olga Marie Asmlelt Animusphere am fair and just when giving second chances to my subordinates."
My eyes widened, with her back now turned there was no escape, only one way out and luckily she couldn't see it. She couldn't see the shock, and she couldn't see right as I tackled her, hand still glowing with a centuries old magical formula meant to knock me out.
She couldn't see the wide smile of her second hand, holding a detonator and looking down on us like we were nothing but gnats.
Why hello my lovelies. After a year long sabbatical I'm back with brand new stuff here. Lots of questions and such are waiting that I really don't think would fit in a whole two rows so you know how to reach me. To put it briefly, it's all going on a muddy downhill, slippery-slope from here on. Enjoy!
