The Kaiser's New Clothes
Interlude 2: Clean Up on Aisle Eighty-Eight
A sprinkling of dust drifted through the darkened warehouse, carried by the light breeze that came in through the broken skylight. Insects skittered across the floor, and rats poked their heads out from their hiding places to sniff the air, sensing the blood from Crusader's corpse in the middle of the room, but no human sound broke the silence.
Not until the white glow of a portal lit up the room, and a woman in a fedora stepped through into the dim and dusty warehouse, startling the rats back into their hiding places.
Contessa stared down at Crusader's bloody, pulverised corpse, her face dark from the bags hanging under her eyes, and let out a tired sigh.
Again with this shit...
"Door to the Palanquin's kitchen," she said, almost a mumble.
Another portal opened just across from her, on the other side of which was the currently operational and yet unattended kitchen of the Palanquin nightclub/restaurant. The lights were on, the ovens warm, and the food prep done, with a nearby radio blaring a pop song in the background.
Contessa's power had indicated she had only a small window to perform her task unseen, so she immediately moved and picked up Crusader by the shoulders. Carefully angling her body in just such a way to avoid getting any blood on herself, she dragged him over to the portal, and then roughly tossed him through.
The dead Crusader flew through the air, crashing into the counter full of prepared ingredients. Bowls, plates, knives, and various other kitchen implements flipped over and fell to the floor, spilling doughs and sauces everywhere in a tremendous cacophony. Crusader's corpse smeared blood over every surface it touched, and then collapsed face-down in a bowl of mashed potatoes. A bowl of flour fell off the edge of the counter and dusted the body to complete the picture.
"What the fuck?!" a distant voice called from the direction of the staff toilets.
On cue, Doormaker's portal disappeared, and Contessa once again stood alone in the dark and dingy warehouse.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to let it all get to her.
Path to immediate stress relief? she asked her agent.
It gave her its answer. Four major steps. Easy. Except...
"Wow... really?"
It wasn't often that Contessa was surprised by her paths nowadays; her agent had led her to places that she wouldn't have gone even with the entire Triumvirate, and it had a way of desensitising a person over time.
Still, she paused, thinking over this latest path, considering its implications and viability, and checking it against her other paths to see if it would interfere with any of them. More importantly, she considered how she felt about it. But in all cases, she could think of no major objection, so...
"...Okay then..." she said with a shrug.
Contessa drew a phone from her pocket, instinctively navigating her contacts and dialling the number without even having to look at the screen.
She brought the phone to her ear, and the recipient picked up after three rings.
"Yes?" Rebecca Costa-Brown's answer was curt and businesslike, as usual.
"I'm coming over in two minutes," Contessa announced. "We are having sex."
There was a momentary pause, accompanied by the faint sound of a pen dropping on a desk.
"Wha—?"
"Wear your costume." Her tone brooked no room for argument.
"...Uhmm!"
Contessa marvelled as Rebecca's voice came out as almost a squeak; she had never heard it go that high before. Both Alexandria and Chief Director Costa-Brown had an image to maintain, after all.
"Y-Yes, ma'am...!" Rebecca eventually stuttered out.
The corner of Contessa's mouth twitched slightly, the barest hint of a smile.
"Good girl."
She snapped the phone closed. That was step one completed. Now came step two, the most difficult step of this path:
The two-minute wait.
Author's notes:
Chapter theme:
Muse – Supermassive Black Hole
Chapter seven's potentially going to take a while, so here's a short micro-update just for fun in the meantime.