"…it is likely that conflict arose from inequal treatment. A possibility is that the factory owner – or his son – had discriminated against the Infected in the past, perhaps through unfair wages…"
No, this wouldn't do. It was a waste of their time – empty words flying off into useless tangents. Nine months at Rhodes Island, and she had yet to understand what they wanted from her reports. Cantabile sighed and set down her pen, before reaching for a new sheet of paper. In elegant, flowing cursive, she began again:
"Mission Report, Operator Cantabile, September 10, 1097.
We were assigned by the Doctor to eliminate a minor Reunion-affiliated Infected uprising in an Ursian nomadic city. Participating Operators included Medic Gavial and members of Reserve Op Team A4, including Operators Melantha, Adnachiel, Cardigan and Steward. Operator Ansel was unavailable due to prior injury. They were led by Instructor Dobermann –"
Her hand shook, and her fountain pen traced a jagged dash across the page. With a flick of her hand, she slid the sheet of paper to her left, to join its discarded brethren in a messy pile. She would clean it up later.
"Again." She commanded herself.
A new sheet replaced it, and her pen brushed against the page once more:
"Mission Report, Operator Cantabile, September 10, 1097.
We were –"
Suddenly, a rapid knocking on her door jolted her out of her focus. Standing up and brushing herself off, she capped her fountain pen and walked over to the door to welcome her visitor.
A swift press of a button, and the thin metal of the door slid aside with a hiss. A short, pink-haired Perro peeked through. "Hellooo! The Doctor called for you!"
Cantabile nodded. "Thank you, Cardigan. I'll be there soon."
"I'll wait for you by the door!"
Returning to her room, she dumped the rejected reports into the trashcan, returning her stationery to its rightful place. By the time she walked back, Cardigan was waiting eagerly, humming a cheery tune.
"Let's go!" Without wasting a second, Cardigan ran off, forcing Cantabile to break into a light jog to catch up. Her high heels clacked against the hard metal floor as she ran, but she had long since gotten used to them. Especially running in them, although that was typically reserved for more dangerous circumstances then these.
A few Operators glanced at them as they passed, some mildly amused by the sight. It wasn't the first time Cardigan had sprinted through the halls.
While she couldn't match Cardigan's boundless excitement, Cantabile could easily match her pace. With long, measured steps, she stayed close behind Cardigan, carefully avoiding any passersby. Soon, Cardigan had led her to the small elevator to the Doctor's office, which silently slid open as they approached.
"Fun mission we just had, huh?" Cardigan asked, stepping into the cramped space.
Cantabile followed her in, the door sliding closed behind them as the elevator began to move. She wouldn't call live combat fun, but appearances mattered. She was now one of Rhodes Island's many Operators, and she had to play the part – and if that part included callously writing off lives like others had once written off hers, then so be it. "I suppose it was."
"The report's annoying though, ugh…"
"Ah, the report… I was working on it when you knocked on my door. It is rather time-consuming." Though not nearly as painful as Cardigan made it out to be.
"Yeah! Hey, you think you can get the Doctor to cancel the report for me?"
Cantabile gave Cardigan a practiced, picture-perfect smile. "I'll try."
She would not.
"Ehehe, thanks! Hey, that Reunion defender looked tough. How'd you kill him?"
"I –" Cantabile's expression grew distant, remembering the heavily armored man toppling over from the three knives embedded in his back – and the desperation in his eyes, staring right back at hers. Her own hands had been caked with dirt and grime, mixed with blood from an occasional cut and scrape.
Minor troubles, in comparison.
She suppressed a wince. "I might have caught him off guard."
"It is kinda sad that those innocent Infected had to die though…" Cardigan said, expression rapidly shifting from excited to downcast.
A pulse of pain came from Cantabile's right arm, as if to remind her of her own infection.
"It is unfortunate."
"Yeah…"
After that, Cardigan seemed to no longer be in the mood to talk.
They spent the rest of the ride in silence. Eventually, the elevator dinged, signaling that they had arrived. Cantabile stepped out, cautiously studying the environment around her.
"Well, I'll leave the rest to you! Good luck!" Cardigan said as the door closed behind Cantabile, leaving her alone in the administrative wing of Rhodes Island.
The place was, much like the rest of the landship, quite a barren thing. The metal walls and floor had yet to be painted, and no decorations adorned them either. The hallways gleamed dully in the cold white, fluorescent lighting above, worn smooth by the crossing of Rhodes Island's employees.
Only the occasional nameplate was attached to the walls, designating the offices of various Rhodes Island administrators. No windows offered her a glimpse inside, either – as if she was in some modern tomb.
Cantabile rarely entered this part of Rhodes Island. The sound of her heels echoed through the hallways as she walked; strangely, nobody passed her by as she walked towards the Doctor's office.
"Poor security…" Cantabile mused. "No identification checks."
Infinitely worse than some of the manors and mansions she'd infiltrated in the past.
"Unless it has already been scanned?" Idly, she scanned the hallway around her, searching for any hidden cameras or Arts devices. None that a cursory check could identify. But an organization as powerful as Rhodes Island did not make it so far by making mistakes like this.
There had to be something.
Cantabile pushed the thought to the back of her mind for now; it was irrelevant. Cardigan had wished her good luck – for what?
Well, she would find out soon. Stopping in front of to the Doctor's office, she gently knocked on the hardwood door.
"Come in."
Brushing aside some stray hairs, she twisted the doorknob and stepped into the room. The Doctor was waiting for her, sitting in a simple padded steel chair. His head turned to track her as she walked in. His mask hid his expression, but he seemed to be staring straight at her, searching for… something.
It unsettled her a little.
"No weapons." She noted. A rarity, especially for a battlefield commander. "Dangerous, or overconfident. Unlikely to be the latter, however…"
"Good afternoon, Doctor. Cardigan told me you wanted to see me?"
"And what do you think of her?" The Doctor asked, leaning forward.
"Huh? What does he want –" Cantabile took a calming breath and spoke. "Cardigan, despite her… overexcitement, is reliable… and does not seem particularly affected by combat."
"Sounds like an Operator report."
Cantabile tensed. He wasn't happy about her response. Instinctively, her eyes searched around the room for any escape. It was decorated sparsely; nothing was painted, revealing the unyielding steel that formed Rhodes Island. The Doctor shifted an iota forward, as if staring straight through her.
Cantabile forced herself to cease her anxious glances and meet his gaze.
"What do you think about yourself, then?"
"Doctor, I… I don't think my answer will be useful."
"What is he trying to ask?"
"That's fine. Give me something."
"I… I believe that I owe Rhodes Island a debt. You saved me from the slums, and I have yet to pay for my medical treatment. Is this about repaying that? My instruments may be valuable enough…"
The Doctor chuckled lightly. "No, it isn't. And I don't think you are in our debt, though I doubt that would convince you. Would you like to know what Lena thinks of you?"
Lena? Oh, "Perfumer."
Cantabile cautiously nodded.
Picking up a report left on his desk, he read off it: "Cantabile is… interesting. She's visited my garden only once and asked a strange question to the medic on duty."
Cantabile took a shaky breath. So, her abnormal behavior had been noted…
"I've also heard from those in Records that she's obsessed with detail in her reports." Ah, and that too… Cantabile tried to keep herself steady, locking her gaze on the Doctor's faceless mask.
"I believe that intervention may be necessary."
"Int–" Cantabile cut herself off. No, that wasn't polite.
"And that's the long and the short of it." The Doctor concluded, not noticing – or perhaps ignoring – Cantabile's discomfort.
Cantabile waited for him to say more, but he was silent.
As she waited, the Doctor tilted his head slightly, as if curious – about what?
"What is this?"
"An interview? His questions seem too atypical."
Her trembling breaths sounded deafening in the empty room.
"Interrogation? But who would want to know my opinion of others?"
"Some sadistic game?"
"An ambush?"
Eventually, the anxiety grew too much for her to bear. "Doctor… what do you intend for me to do?"
The Doctor sighed. Had she answered wrong again?
"I want you to be my assistant." At his words, Cantabile almost recoiled in shock. Her mind kicked into overdrive, trying in vain to understand how he had reached this conclusion.
Assistant?
Had the conversation been a test – had she somehow passed? Was this all just for some absurd buildup of anticipation? She was just about to ask before the Doctor continued.
"This is your choice, of course. It'll be tough work, and the days will be quite long. I'm offering this chance because you seem diligent enough to help me with these reports –" He gestured to the tall stack of papers to his right – "and because Records wants me to keep an eye on you."
"Keep an eye on me?" For a moment, it felt like an unseen demon was watching her.
If her former… employers wanted to spy on her, then she could do nothing about it. Worse, it would be trivial for them to end her life here, one way or another. Rhodes Island would make a token effort, at best – after all, why fight an entire assassin's guild for a pawn like her?
"I'd be honored, Doctor." Cantabile bowed deeply, her legs shaking slightly. How could she deny an offer from the leader of Rhodes Island? "Just… be careful around my weapons. I'm worried that I will hurt you."
"Eh, nothing I haven't handled before. Let's start tomorrow, then. Be here by… let's say eight in the morning."
"I understand, Doctor."
Another silence descended between them.
After a while, the Doctor chuckled. "Well, what are you waiting for? I'm sure you've got more important things to do then stand around here doing nothing."
She had overstayed her welcome. "Thank you, Doctor… goodbye."
"Bye."
It was only after she was far, far away from the Doctor's office did Cantabile allow the trembling to show. She didn't know what he wanted – why he asked the questions he asked, why he chose a nobody like her to be his assistant.
"'Records wants me to keep an eye on you'… who have I caught the attention of?" Try as she might, no names came to mind. Perhaps her connection to her… past employment? But Rhodes Island knew she had run away from something.
Her heart beat a little faster, and she quickened her pace down the halls. Whoever this was, she was utterly at their mercy. She felt as if she was back to that terrible place…
The walls shifted in front of her eyes, steel shifting to bloodstained wood…
Cantabile shook her head and continued down the hallway, taking a few deep breaths in a futile effort to stay calm.
She didn't want to go back…
The elevator felt like a prison as it descended, and she imagined it going deeper and deeper, into the bowels of the earth, where she would never be found again.
Stepping out of the elevator, her eyes darted around the hallways, searching for an unseen enemy. Caring not for the confused or concerned looks of those around her, she sprinted back towards her room.
Her heartbeats reverberated in her ears as she ran.
"Huh? Cantabile?" Somebody whose name she couldn't recall called out to her.
The hallway stretched on and on, and black encroached on the edges of her vision… until suddenly a familiar metal barrier was in front of her.
Cantabile blindly swiped at the scanner, the keycard in her numb hands falling to the ground. Hastily, she bent over and picked it up again, sliding it across as carefully as her hands would allow.
The sound of gears whirring as the door to her room opened had never been so relieving, and with a haphazard press of the button the door closed again, leaving her alone in her room.
Cantabile collapsed to her bed, curling up into a ball as an overwhelming fear overtook her. Was her life at Rhodes Island just a lie? Would she be forced back to that place again?
"N-not again…" She whimpered.
"Cantabile? What happened?" Cardigan's voice came from outside the room.
"I'm not f-feeling –" she hated how her voice cracked – "well. C-come back later."
And then there was silence, as she curled up into a ball and scrunched her eyes shut. A few tears leaked from her eyes and wetted the bedsheets, and soon they began to flow freely.
The silence was brief; soon, another knock came from the door. Blindly pulling a few tissues out from beside her bed, Cantabile quickly cleaned up the worst of the mess before standing up and composing herself again. She considered smoothing out the bedsheets too but was interrupted by another knock.
She took a deep breath. "Who is it?"
"It's the Doctor. May I come in?"
He knew… Cantabile almost flew into a panic once more.
Nonetheless forced herself to step towards the door and open it. The Doctor walked in, eyes seemingly flitting around for a few tense moments before they settled on her. Cantabile had no doubt he noticed the wet stain on her bedsheets, the scrunched-up ball of tissues on her bedside drawer, and her disheveled hair and red eyes.
He simply chose not to comment on it.
The Doctor sighed. Cantabile tensed up, waiting for a reprimand.
"I'm sorry."
Cantabile took a half-step back, shocked.
"Why?"
Seeing that she was not responding, the Doctor continued.
"A while after you left, Cardigan suddenly burst into my office demanding I tell her what I did to you. I was… confused, naturally, so I asked her why." He sighed again. "Imagine my surprise when she told me that you had a panic attack. I admit I wanted to throw you off a little – get a sense of who you were – but I didn't expect this. Did I… trigger anything?"
He looked to her, waiting for an answer. Cantabile tried valiantly to think of a suitable response, yet her anxious mind pulled a blank. Eventually, she was forced to go with a flimsy excuse. "I was unwell."
"Yes, you told Cardigan that too. Fine, I won't push you further." He seemed… disappointed? The mask hid his expressions too well for her to know. "Nothing has changed. We still start at eight o'clock tomorrow. Take care of yourself, please."
As the Doctor left, Cantabile heard him mutter to himself.
"This might be worse than I expected…"
Nighttime approached, but Cantabile didn't feel like going for a meal. Perhaps she didn't deserve one, after her failures today. She tried not to think about it too much, lest she fall into another spiral of despair.
But fear compelled her to consider it anyway.
It had been some time since she there had been something that was able to reduce her to a whimpering mess. Definitely not the first time – a few incidents back with her first instructors came to mind – but the first time in Rhodes Island. Being here had made her feel… comfortable.
Being in the sights of the highest-ranking official in Rhodes Island, decidedly less so. He had mentioned Records wanting him to keep an eye on her – had her actions caused such a stir? All she had been told was that her reports contained "unnecessary detail" or a "non-compliant writing style."
Her stomach grumbled, but she ignored the weak pangs of hunger with practiced ease.
There was the chance of some malicious effort against her, as she had thought in her paranoia… but there was not much of a reason to target her, nor a reason for such an indirect approach. Her panic had been unjustified; maybe it had only arisen because everything had occurred so suddenly.
Her thoughts returned, unbidden, to the Doctor. He was an interesting man. Almost certainly dangerous, commanding the absolute loyalty of those around him. Since his return, his title – never his name – had been spoken with a degree of reverence, many of the veteran Operators treating him as if he were some demigod.
He was strange, in person. Difficult to understand – an issue exacerbated by the mask. From what little she could gather, he was either concerned for her or feigning it; he wouldn't have visited her dorm room otherwise. His questions still perplexed her.
"He asked what I thought of Cardigan, then what I thought of myself." Cantabile recalled. "Typical interviews were different."
She remembered a few of them in excruciating detail, particularly her first mission.
"Miss… Polena, am I correct?" The man fixed her with a cold look. Cantabile's heart beat a little faster. Could he have known it to be a fake name?
"Yes, sir."
"I have had offers, in the past, for a governess. And I am in need of one. Little Marie must grow to be a woman capable of running the family business."
Cantabile – currently Polena – nodded.
"But she is young and easily lead astray. Tell me why you are the best choice for her."
"I am…"
Cantabile shook her head, and the memory faded. Always questions of why her, why not others – always about her value. Never her thoughts.
She felt as if the Doctor was a puzzle that had been laid in front of her, and she was missing all but one of the pieces… Perhaps she simply did not know enough.
Some rest would help calm her mind. She needed to be ready for her first day as the Doctor's assistant, whatever that could hold.
Extra note for FFN: Is this working? My first publish somehow broke – the link didn't work.
AN: There isn't enough depressed birb fanfiction on the internet. I can't quite understand why (her E2 art is amazing, after all). Guess I have to write one myself. This fic will be roughly 30k words and 10 chapters, and I'm planning to upload once per week, at around this time.
As a side note, does everyone like "thought" for thoughts, or would you rather have thought? I prefer the former, but the latter seems to be the generally recognized style. If there's no strong preference either way, I'll probably stick with my current format.
P.S.: You may notice this chapter is longer than usual (3k rather than 2k words). I'm experimenting with longer chapters – perhaps they'll help the story flow a little better. I'll also avoid adding author notes for most of the chapters. I find they're too long and relatively useless; plus, they also might disrupt the flow of the story.