Brewing Storm

  The Northern Lights, dancing in the crystal clear winter night, reflecting its cool green on gentle wind swept curves of a snow banks.

  It's a sight he's seen a few times in his early years. Now he sees it on his bed; only the soft green emanates from an ambient neon tube, reflecting off the white bed sheet that sweeps around the curves of Jodi as she rests peacefully underneath. The sight is not any less breathtaking to him, even just laying there sleeping she's graceful.

  He'll never tell her this; he figures most women wouldn't want to be compared to a lump of snow. But in his mind it's compliment. He grins and shakes his head, he never thought he would be thinking is such poetic terms, the guys would give him shit if they knew. He's well read but mostly in military tactics and some philosophy, the philosophy readings coming up in his thoughts more often since he met her, since they talked last night and he started questioning everything.

  Why didn't he just walk away before? Life would have been so much easier. What she told him, he can't just walk away from now.

  6:11 AM; he's wide awake. She'll have a rough wake up, he thinks its been some time since she drank that much.

  What a mess. His rest hasn't been as peaceful as hers. He lights up another cigarette, Franz Foodz opens at 6:30, it's the only decent breakfast vendor in the Cavern. Decent being a place that uses real eggs and ham, not synth meat or dubiously sourced 'real' chicken.

  There is a storm brewing. She sent Peter back to the mainland with Tales as protection. Tales has a personal quarter in the Royal grounds and is really close to the Princess, Peter is as safe as anywhere there. It wasn't 5 minutes from when the submarine hatch closed that Colonel was throwing back drinks. Everyone seemed shocked with how relaxed she was, a few Specters hung out and had some laughs. She almost seemed better off being relieved of duty.

  'Almost' being the key word. She told him far more then she probably wanted when they went back to his room with a bottle of vodka. He's not surprised she's a hairs breath away from snapping, it's a wonder she's in control as much as she is. The secrets she carries—the secrets he now carries, can change what humanity is. It's a lot to think over. What exactly is right and wrong now?

  Thinking back on his previous undercover job infiltrating the rebels makes him feel ill now. Is he the bad guy? Terrorist or freedom fighter, who the hell decides which is which?

  His Commander was trying to kill him, the same Commander that had him do that mission. He's a solider, he had his duty to perform. After what he learned last night that doesn't cut it anymore. What kind of soldier can he be if he turns his back on all that he learned about the service?

  6:21 AM; Throwing on his wrinkled fatigues from yesterday he heads out to Franz to get in line.

  It's so peaceful this time of day. Several military buildings on the main dock are slowly coming to life. The other civilian buildings are much smaller, built up like stacked cardboard boxes, up the sides of the cavern walls and somehow over the top of the huge cavern, with crisscrossing catwalks above. The huge blast doors that lead out to the real world are securely shut, submarines are the only boats that can make it past the minefield the Net Lords set outside in the ocean long ago. There are thousands of low voltage neon lights of every imaginable color around the cavern, like radioactive isotope powered fireflies. High up the cavern wall is a huge spotlight, it'll turn on at exactly 6:30 am, it's the caverns 'sun'. But for now, Bucket enjoys the light show which is the cavern.

  The morning bustle has already started in the food court, the smell of fresh bread, signs promising 'Real' chicken flash, the area a kaleidoscope of flashy, garish neon signs all looking to attract people away from their competitors, each stall playing the latest low synth techno beats. There is very little in the way of by-laws for the food vendors; bad word of mouth kills more customers for a stall than food poisoning.

  Glitch and Motormouth are talking among themselves in the small lineup for Franz. They both stop talking as Bucket approaches, grinning like a couple of idiots.

  “Well that was fun at the Rusted Node last night, anyone know where Forester ended up?” Motormouth says to Glitch. "Yeah, the Colonel sure was relaxed, I've never seen her dance. How odd she danced every single song with the same Specter." He says with an overly toothy smile. It takes Bucket a second to realize they did in fact dance. She had pulled some music she had recorded from the Hype. Oh shit, he danced...

  “It's too early for this bull shit, Boss.” Bucket says with a grimace.

  Motormouth looks insulted by the comment, “Ah, come on man, I'm the third highest ranking officer here. You should have been left in command, I did you a favour saying you declined it. Your leadership would be questioned because of... you know. It's kind of a poorly kept secret. Anyways, the Colonel will be back in command once she passes her psych eval. You know I don't want this, paperwork and bull shit.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Glitch is looking at his portable communication pad, “I have that side project I'm monitoring.” He nods towards Nadine and Wizbang lined up at another vendor, she's looking like she's trying to remove his tonsils with her tongue—he seems partial to the idea.

  Deep down Bucket wants to march over there and have a few words with Wizbang. His brain is still wired to want Nadine, a topic he definitely isn't discussing with Jodi. Glitch said the nano-bots in their brains will die off, trying to purge them could lead to complications. He already doesn't feel as strongly for Nadine as he once did.

  “You want to beat the shit out of Wizbang too?” Bucket says.

  Without looking up from his data pad he replies with a grin, “Him and you. More then anything. This virus is a bitch, I don't like that part of my brain is working against logic. It's kind of messed up something I had going on with Dee. Man, we had been talking for months before I got infected and told her I loved Nadine.” Bucket nods. The line behind them is filling up, the chatter of the food court rising in volume as orders are placed, people come to life.

  “Any word on when the shrink will be here for the Colonels psych eval?” Bucket asks.

  “They keep pushing it back, I don't like the delaying. A storms brewing.” Motormouth says.

  “Yeah, I'm feeling the storm as well. We should go over possible scenarios and plans latter, Underwood isn't going to just fade into the night.”

  “I'm feeling the storm, from above, in my foot.” Glitch says.

  “You with this feeling the weather in your foot bull shit, reminds me of my Gramps feeling the weather in his shoulder.” Motormouth says.

  “Hey, I was wondering, what ever happened to that asshole who blew your foot off?” Bucket asks.

  “He spent 2 years in prison, he's a bouncer in an even bigger dive bar where he shot me. The judge bought his accidental discharge story, also that it was rebuilt so the judge said 'no permanent damage.' I would like to see that asshole of a judge go for a run with my foot." He leans on his cane, adjusting his balance, "Apparently someone hacked his military pension and the judges pensions as well, wiped them both out, did such a good job they couldn't even track it.” Glitch says with a huge grin.

  “Damn, next time we're out drinking, you're buying.” Motormouth says.

  “Hey, it's my pension money, that's locked up.”

  “You can have my pension money, it's not like I'll make it to retirement.” says Bucket.

  “If you get another punctured lung you won't make it another week.” Motormouth says.

  “That won't happen, I don't have a third lung to puncture.” Back adds, taking a drag of his cig.

  “You know what I meant. I'm surprised smoke doesn't come out your chest.”

  Bucket just shakes his head, it's to early for all this. Motormouth could talk shit in his sleep; he probably does.

  A young petite woman is walking through the small line taking preorders. She's dressed in a long black dress that covers most of her neck, only her hands and face show outside of it. The Specters look out for her, she's a bit abrupt, some of the rougher crowd in the Cavern don't take kindly to being put in their place.

  “Morning Emmy.” Bucket says.

  “Good Morning Bucket. I don't think the others in line appreciate your cigarette smoke.” She says with a serious look.

  “It's killing me." Motormouth coughs, Emmy looks to Motormouth, then looks back at Bucket with a disapproving look. Motormouth and Glitch snicker when she turns back to Bucket. He drops his cig and stomps it out.

  “Sorry Emmy,” He says. She looks down at the butt on the ground, then back up at Bucket, her lips pressed together forming a straight line. He sighs, bends over, it's as if the muscles in his whole chest are being ripped apart as he picks up the butt, putting it in his shirt pocket.

  “Ok,” She says with a slight bounce and a smile, “Would you like the usual today Bucket?”

  “Yes please, only make it two.”

  “Two? Who is the second for?”

  “I'm just hungry today.”

  “Ok, well as long as everyone in the Specters isn't breaking any rules.” Unbelievable, getting told off by a Emmy. Motormouth and Glitch are now chuckling out loud.

  “Emmy, that would be my business.”

  “And the Colonels,” She says with a huff as she moves on to take orders from the next in line. Motormouth and Glitch burst out laughing.

  The huge spotlight lights up the cavern, the line starts moving as people receive their food. Looking around he sees a man with a brown hooded jacket. He recalls him wearing the same outfit last night, standing by the edge of the docks. He's also looking at Bucket, just like last night. It's not uncommon for drug peddlers to stare down Specters walking about, even though Specters don't have authority over civilians the criminal elements don't like then. But there is no reason for the same man to be watching him at 6:30am.

  Bucket gets his order and starts heading back to his room, looking up the man is gone. He's not gone though; he's on the move. He catches a glimpse of him moving behind a stall; he was looking towards Bucket.

  Bucket rushes back to his room and locks the door, grabbing his 1911 from his desk drawer, he tosses a shirt from the back of a chair at the Colonels face.

  “Wake up, we're about to have company. Grab the revolver taped behind the headboard, hide in the bathroom.”

  “Huh? What?” Groggy she sits up.

  “Danger, go in the bathroom.” She puts the shirt on and grabs the revolver. Bucket slides a fish-eye cam under the door to see out in the hallway. The man is approaching. He looks down at the cam and slowly approaches the door with his hands up.

  When he gets to the door Bucket opens it and pulls him in the room, forcing him to the ground, pointing his gun at his chest. He pulls the mans mask back.

  “Leech. Seeing it's you doesn't make me want to shoot you any less.” Bucket says. “Why are you following me?”

  “How about we sit down and have a talk? You look like you're about to pass out. I just want to talk.”

  “Lower the gun Bucket.” Another familiar voice says from the doorway. Bucket puts his gun on the floor, raises his hands.

  “You're the one the needs to put your gun down now.” The Colonel says, standing by the washroom pointing the revolver at the stranger. He puts his gun down.

  “We just want to talk.” The man says. He pulls back his mask; it's Laser.

  “What the hell do you two want?” Bucket says, securing the men's wrists with zip ties.

  “Did you get breakfast for us?” Leech says. Bucket punches him in the face, with the shape of his shoulder it probably hurt him more then Leech.

  “My ears are still ringing from that sonic-pulse generator, really not in the mood for bull shit.”

  “Well I guess I'll just shoot you next time then. Shit man, why did you have to punch me?”

  “So what did you want to talk about?”

  “Georgie.”

  “What of him?”

  “You need to stop your investigation.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Laser and I killed him.”