Chapter Text
The concrete is cold. A wind shivers by. They are standing on a hill in a vacant town. Somewhere in the north. They weren't told where. They are here for a task. One that they will regret, they know. But it must be done because the Handler (mean) said it must. And so it will. They force themselves to feel pride at how the Handler (nice) requested them for this task. They net out their senses once again. They are listening for movement. They have already handled all the small crawling things and all the squawking flapping things but have yet to sense their real target.
All they hear now is the wind.
The snapping of flags.
The lake water lapping at the docks.
Settling of snow.
Creaking wood.
They tilt their head.
Skin against cold metal.
Steady breathing.
Puffs of steam out of its mouth.
Target has shown itself.
They speed towards the singular warm body. Across the empty streets. The snow-covered parkways and the icy docks. Target isn't ready. They are first to act. They throw Target. Target hits a wall hard and yells. It's loud but it's only one sound. Target recovers quickly. Target points a knife. They grab and throw the knife. Target starts loud noises but doesn't act further. Target raises hands. They have been told to take the target live. They approach. When they are close Target grabs their shoulders and forces its knee into the center of their chest.
They hurt. Target sprints east. Towards forest. They cannot let Target reach the forest. They hurt. They chase. They are slower than Target. They hurt. But the Handlers cannot be disappointed. So they chase. They easily track Target's noise wake. They hurt. They decide to intercept.
They are waiting. They are sunk into the silence. Target slowed down after they broke off. Target is still on the same trajectory. So they wait. The hurt they felt has faded. But as they touch their center chest it still feels hurt. They hear the crunch of Target's steps. Target's steady breathing. How much warmer Target is.
Target is close now. 10 feet away. Target isn't ready. They slam Target into the ground. Target bounces. Target rolls to get up. They slam Target again. Target groans. They slam him again. Target is silent. They wait. Target is unmoving but Target isn't cooling down.
They call the Handler (nice).
Wallace Asher hated his job. Don't get him wrong it's a pretty cushy job. All he really has to do is talk all soft to Essie, well E.S.13, and just play good cop really. For a college drop out the pay was irresistible even with some moral issues stacked in there. In the 5 years Wallace has worked for Shepherd Security Labs he has already paid off his college debt, bought a two-room single-floor house, and adopted three chihuahuas.
Right now Wallace was driving to pick up Essie from where they had been sent to capture like this weird guy. The guy, in Wallace's opinion, was trying way too hard to emulate those old 80's slasher films. Like cutting his mouth open and burning off his eyelids would do anything. Hart, the project leader, had set this weirdo as one of the easier targets for Essie.
Wallace feels a sense of satisfaction as he stops on the street that Essie is waiting for him on. He gets out of the car and just looks at the guy lying unconscious in the snow. Wallace thinks that maybe he likes his job just the smallest amount.
Essie looks at him. He turns and opens the door for the spacious, and quadruple reinforced back seat. "E.S.13 be a dear and pack him in for me. You can ride in the front." Wallace didn't want to try and lift the almost 6-foot man, he wasn't built for that kind of work. Essie lifted the body and maneuvered him into the back seat, even going as far as to buckle him in. After all this time Wallace still struggles to understand just how Essie can pick things up without even touching it. Well, he was a college dropout for a reason so he just puts it aside and turns up the heat in the car for the ride back.
The car cabin was warm. They curled up on the seat. They rarely got to ride in the cabin, the Handler (nice) lets them. They turned their head towards the Handler (nice). Handler (nice) glances over. Handler (nice) hands them a small radio from his pocket. Handler (nice) is wearing a long, thick jacket. They think fluffy. They turn the radio over in their hands. It's the size of their palm, it has a small extendable antenna, volume control buttons, a speaker, and a dial. They turn the dial. The crackle startles them a bit. They tune to a station that is someone speaking softly, then one with many speaking loudly, then one playing soft string instruments. They stop on that one. Then they tune to a station that is playing loud banging noises, then one that had one man speaking fast and loud, then Handler (nice) says "E.S.13 please just play the classical music channel, ok?" They carefully tune it back to the soft string instruments.
They sit in the car cabin as Handler (nice) drives and listens as the music shifts from soft strings to crooning wind to tinkling piano and back again. They tilt their head. There is a banging. From the backseat. Target is awake. They think to tell Handler (nice). The labs are close. They don't tell Handler (nice).
At the gate, to the lab, the gateman steps back when they notice them in the passenger seat. But still, let's the car through. Handler (nice) parks in the secure underground driveway. The heavy doors close off the driveway. There is no way out of the area except to travel further into the labs. Handler (mean) is waiting. Handler (nice) takes back the radio. Handler (nice) gets out of the car. Handler (mean) is on him in a second. "Wallace! What is E.S.13 doing in the passenger seat! You know that's a security risk!" She rounds on them when they step out of the vehicle "And you! Who knows who could've seen you! Or tried to kidnap you! You should know better!"
Handler (nice) speaks up "Now Sasha I couldn't just let E.S.13 ride in the back with that weirdo!" Handler (mean) stops
"What."
"Hart decided to see if E.S.13 could work in real-life conditions." Handler (nice) did a poor impression of the Supervisor. "They actually caught one of those crazies that are just going around you know." Handler (mean) straightened herself and said to them "Great job E.S.13. I'll call Hart. Wallace, you call security to bring this 'weirdo' to secure containment." Handler (nice) gasps "No you don't! You aren't getting the credit for this! You didn't even know it was happening!" Handler (mean) already having a phone to her ear "I only didn't know because Hart went behind my back." Handler (nice) goes to respond but Handler (mean) puts her hand up and turns away from him.
They wait as the Handlers make their calls. There is still banging from the backseat. It's louder now that the car is stopped. They approach and put the side of their head to the door. They can hear Target grumbling and yelling. They think to tell the Handlers but the security team is already entering. They float a distance away. The security team gets nervous around them. They are told that the security team wears helmets like their own but has a part they can see through. A visor they think. They would like a visor on their helmet.
The team circles the car. The Handlers come to stand at either side of them. A member of the team nods to them. They open the backseat. Target comes shooting out. Target tackles over a member. Target punches the member. There is a crack. The member tries to shove Target off. They move to help. Another member gestures for them to stand back. A member closer to Target puts their gun in his face. Target grabs the barrel and pulls it out of their hand. A member behind Target shoots him with the tranquilizer. Target turns. Another tranquilizer dart. Target tries to stand. Another dart. Target's knees buckle and he falls.
The team waits, uncertain guns pointing at the target. Then the member on the ground gets up and shakes Target a bit. "He's down" two team members pick Target up and move him out of the driveway. The injured member and one other member walks them and the Handlers to a meeting room. Then the injured one and the extra one move on down the hall.
The Supervisor is waiting in the meeting room. The Supervisor motions them over. The Supervisor plugs their helmet into a computer and downloads the tasks data. They are unplugged "Return to your room now." The Supervisor says to them. They leave for their room.
In their room, there is a bed. In their room there is Crawlie. Crawlie is a rat. Crawlie is soft and squeaks. Crawlie is like them. They love(?) Crawlie and Crawlie loves(?) Them. Crawlie is squeaking at them. They pick Crawlie up gently with both of their hands. Crawlie could just lift itself but it likes being picked up by them. They sit on the bed and set Crawlie on their lap. Crawlie is fat. They like to sneak bits of their food to Crawlie. Crawlie squirms in their lap. They pet it. They speak. Their voice crackling and low "Craw-Crawlie I hur-t many crawling thingz, I m sor-ry." Crawlie looks up at them, stands up, and noses their helmet. Forgiveness. They relax. They lay down with Crawlie on their chest.