In the dark room of Sush’s apartment, the red strips displaying the time on her bedside alarm clock showed 3:16 AM when the sound of her ringtone blared through the room, jostling her awake. Phones were never turned off in this profession, especially not if they were chiefs or deputies. They were paid at a laughable wage to work at fixed hours and be reachable at all hours.
Swiping to answer the call without checking the caller identification, she hid under the covers with her eyes closed while the caller spoke.
A security breach. In the east. EAST.
She didn’t choose to stay in the west because she’d enjoy taking a hell of a long flight to the other side of the globe, especially not when it was still dark, her bed still warm and her eyelids still heavy. She tried wrigg
The latter two questions had been answered by an autopsy report and confirmed by the eastern octopuses: the sprinklers were not turned on from the control room, meaning it could’ve only been switched on by an external source. They traced it to an unauthorized wireless device, suspecting that the intruder had a remote in his trousers pocket that managed the feat.As for the screaming, the sprinklers sprayed - not water - but zahar: an air-borne substance that tampers with its victim’s neurons. They’d feel as if a million needles were being pierced through their skin, causing momentary paralysis while their assailant struck. Zahar wasn’t lethal in open spaces, but it did buy time.Why wasn't the assailant himself affected? The octopuses concluded that either he had already ingested an antidote or he wasn’t
The following day, Sush was scrutinizing each flagged file. Frustration filled her when formatting issues disturbed her flow. These were very old files overseen by Kenji’s predecessor, who wasn’t exactly the most efficient or thorough octopus, so Sush supposed she should have expected half-baked work like these. It really bothered her, but since the retired hunter was not within her vicinity to be yelled at, all she could do was sigh to herself as she perfected the documents by correcting each formatting issue that didn’t conform to the standard way they did things. These old timers, she thought to herself in dismay.Her flow got better, until one broke her momentum - an archive from over a decade ago about the remnants of a victim suspected to have been bombed. Her eyes trailed along each line, each photo. Her hea
“Uncle Gweg! Why didn’t you call?” He was just two minutes late. Even so, heaviness settled in his stomach. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I lost track of time. Had a good day today?” A moment of silence passed before Enora’s whisper rang through his ears, “I shot Lionel MacDonald today and ran. He doesn’t know who did it.” Although Greg could hear the smile in her voice and his animal howled in pride, his human’s eyes snapped shut. Shit. As an afterthought, she added, “Don’t tell Mommy.” “Sweetheart,” Greg exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This call is recorded.” “What’s recworded?” “It means everything we’re saying now will be on your Mommy’s phone and she can replay what we’re saying like how you watch cartoons over and over again.” A stretch of silence followed before Enora innocently asked, “So I should thwow away Mommy’s phone, Uncle Gweg?” “What? No! Just…” How was he going to resolve this? “Alright, Enora. Lesson one: never tell secrets through a phone, a computer
Sush was in a simulator on the archer’s floor, versatile earplugs stuck into each ear and a twelve-gauge shotgun in hand. Eyewear that brought out the simulation and protected her sight painted a shade of violet over her eyes. The archer behind the control panel, Millicent, gave her a thumbs up from behind the glass partition, signaling that the simulation was about to begin.Millicent faded away, as did the control room.Darkness sunk, and for a moment, there was nothing. As Sush’s eyes adjusted, her surroundings welcomed her in strides. Leaves rustled from the high trees with branches flung wide, branches that seemed to nearly touch yet ultimately grew parallel to its neighboring limb, almost as if nature forbade them from ever meeting. Breezy fingers of the forest grazed her cheek as the crickets serenaded like a
Greg locked his phone after replying to her message, sighing to himself, wondering why she was suddenly shutting him out. He thought they were getting along well. Better than well, even. Why the sudden change of behavior? Where was the playful sass, the ease that was there whenever they were together? How did something like that get flush out overnight?And honestly, why did he care?In his defense, it would’ve been easier not to care if she didn’t draw him in like a fucking magnet with everything she did: the way she talked, walked, ate, drank, puzzled over a task at hand. Goddess, especially the way she puzzled over a task at hand: the way her brows arched, the manner her body stilled, the way her eyes got lost into the page or on the screen. It was mind-consuming.
In the kingdom the next day, Enora held a yellow sheet as she leaped into her uncle’s ready arms that hoisted her up. Her tiny arms wrapped around his neck and squeezed tight as his other niece and nephew gave him hello hugs at his legs. Gently patting Reida on her head and ruffling Ken’s hair, he then turned his attention to his favorite. “What do you have here, sweetheart?”He reached for the sheet blocking his peripheral view, his thumb smoothened the crumpled side where Enora’s fist was, holding the flier further from his face to make out the big, black words.Enora’s grip loosened when she asked with doe eyes, “Will you come, Uncle Gweg?”It was about the archery competition she signed up for. Leaving a quick kiss on her t
Greg walked into the headquarters the following week mentally rehearsing the way he was going to phrase the question of asking Sush whether his presence was impeding her peace of mind. The question then arose as to when he should ask it. Sooner would be more appropriate, more gentlemanly, more respectful.But he knew himself.His track record did not display a good line of appropriate or gentlemanly behavior. Respect was another matter, unless someone pissed him off. He decided that - unless Sush flinched, jerked, or outright said that he was making her uncomfortable - he wouldn’t raise the matter.It was a dirty way to buy time, he knew. But he only had three month
Greg had been paying more attention to her facial transmutation after hearing from the queen - through Tristan - that Sush didn’t smile a lot around anyone. He was surprised to learn that it was true. For someone who claimed to be able to extract humor from anything, she didn’t smile a lot. That entire morning, as she checked on each department and handed out orders, her lips either remained flat or were pulled to a frown. Yet he himself had witnessed her smile - even laugh - several times in the previous week.“They’re still running through them. Nothing out of the ordinary yet,” she said, slipping her tablet back in.Thoughts of touching her took the backseat as his protective instincts kicked in. The suspect pool - in other words, the people who knew she was headed for the ministry - was enormous. As