DEVIMAYNA 2980 - Book One - Chapter 2

Hey you! If you haven't read the previous chapter, I suggest you do (if you want to, of course), otherwise this might not make a lot of sense to you, hah. Enjoy!

Things were starting to get dizzy. I'd definitely gone too far. I stormed in circles around my spacious apartment flat, raving to myself about whatever first came to mind, hands clutching mostly empty bottles. I hadn't meant to drink this much, just enough to take the edge off and ease my mind. But whatever I was feeling now was far, far from ease. I was almost shaking, my vision glitching spontaneously, my mechanical muscles twitching oddly, my mind running at two hundred miles per hour. When would I learn my lesson.

"I don't often tell clients this," Scramble had expressed to me earlier in the Underground, "but you really need to stop, Darcy. You're an AH. You know fluids, especially alcohol, are awful for your parts."

"I'm fully aware, Scram," I'd responded, taking a nonchalant swill of the drink. "But it doesn't matter much. We all live and die and accomplish nothing. Besides, if I really need to, I can just get a repair, or even a new form."

The short man had donned a concerned expression, a rare thing for him to do. "But what if that doesn't work? You'd get caught with illegal items and not only lose your job, but also a functioning system."

"For goodness' sakes, we've got the most advanced tech the world has ever known," I'd scoffed. "I'm an Artificial Human, an authentic conscience transplanted into a robotic body for goodness' sake. If things like that can be made, I don't see how a little alcohol damage can't be fixed."

"My point still stands." He had begun to count the contents of my bundle, containing copious amounts of alms, krilders and ticket rolls. "I care about you, Darcy. You're a customer, but also a friend to me. You've gotten me out of more scrapes than I can count on my own two hands since I joined the Disciples. I don't think you realize that there are people who really, genuinely wish the best for you."

"Well, that is something I could presumably count on only one hand. I'll be fine. I promise."

What a promise that was. Surely he could understand. If only he knew my mind, realized my thoughts. I'd known him for quite a while now, and had burdened him with my feelings more than once; yet, no matter how deeply I ripped my heart out to reveal my innards to him, no matter how grotesquely I tore into myself to display for him, selfishly hoping against all hope he might know a grain of my troubles, I never returned feeling any lighter. I had stopped opening up to him a long while ago. He could never grasp me, and I am very sure that he feels the exact same way whenever he gets vulnerable with me. I don't think any of us can ever grasp each other. What a truly hopeless prospect.

My life was marked by periods of extreme misery and periods of extreme ecstasy, never an in-between save for the swift climb from one to the other.

Alcohol was my only ecstasy.

Ding. A notification popped up on the screen chart next to my refrigerator.

"PHASD, go read that off to me!" I slurred at the servicing bot on the other side of the room. I slumped down onto my stainless white couch, hardly able to take the pressure on my ears from standing up any longer.

"You have one message from O.E. KFMD Officer Rhiannon Amalia Whitlock, sent using voice-to-text," PHASD dictated. "Would you like me to--"

"Yes, tell me what it says, you slow thing!"

"The message reads: 'Hey, Darcy! Jo wanted me to send you a briefing of tomorrow's mission. So this is pretty much what's going on: There's an observatory station down by the South Pole, about ten thousand, five hundred miles from here. It's not been responding to our signals for a few weeks, and the drones we sent there got caught up in the snowstorm and crashed. We're understaffed, you see, so we haven't been able to send a squadron yet. We're going to fly down there and assess the situation, fix what needs to be fixed, and fly back with a report. That's basically it. So yeah. And I don't think there's anything else I've got to tell you. Let me know if you've got any questions. Goodnight then!'

"Redirected at 21:22 from the Kartov Communications and Missions Center, fifth tower--"

"I get it, I get it." I sighed, rolling off the couch and onto the ground with a loud thump. I could hardly even process anything I had just heard. What even was a South Pole? I assumed that was somewhere outside of Kartov. I had no clue. We didn't have access to maps, anyways.

"PHASD, is there even anything outside of the walls?"

I received no answer. PHASD was frozen in place.

"Hey, I'm speaking to you, tin can. What's outside of Kartov?"

I waited and waited. Not a single movement from it. Then, the machine turned to me, twitching oddly for a moment before replying.

"There is nothing outside of Kartov."

I said naught for a long while, expecting it to expand on the subject. But that one sentence was apparently it.

"Nothing? Nothing at all? What do you mean?"

The droid moved over to the kitchen area again, picking up a few bottles on the ground as it went. No response.

"Don't just go silent on me, you useless piece of scrap metal!" I stood up again, wobbling around, clutching onto the arm of the sofa for support. Everything was a blur, my eyes desperately attempting to focus on something. "There's got to be something outside of the city, hasn't there?"

"Are you feeling okay, master?"

Oh.

Alarm bells rung through my senses. I blinked hard, instantly feeling myself sobering up. I'd never heard it ask me that, nor had I ever heard it speak in such a tone of voice...

"Wha--"

"Your watch reports that your internal pressure levels are rising to a concerning level. I will alert a medic."

"Hey, no, no, no! Don't do that! PHASD! Stop!"

"An examiner is on the way. Please sit still while you wait for them to arrive."

"Cancel! Cancel it, PHASD!"

I furiously tapped at my watch, trying to no avail to disconnect it from the servicing bot. My vision faltered as I fell back onto the cushions in resignation. The bottle in my hands slipped out, smashing onto the floor with a loud crash.

"There is nothing outside of Kartov," the bot repeated. "You must not lie."

"L-lie...?" I mumbled. It felt like my head was spinning around in circles. "I didn't lie about anything... what're you talking about..."

I leaned over and hurled all onto the ground. Everything was growing dark. I knew I shouldn't have drunk this much.

Wobbling perilously on the edge of the furniture, I looked up to see PHASD looming over me, its eyes tinged with a red light I had never seen before. "You must not lie. There is nothing outside of Kartov."

A few tears formed in my eyes. I just wanted this to be over. Could I pass out already?

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, there's nothing outside of Kartov... I won't lie... I'm sorry..."

My life was marked by periods of extreme misery and periods of extreme ecstasy, never an in-between save for the climb from one to the other.

The climb ought to be counted as an emotion in itself. No, not an emotion, a feeling. A feeling containing many, many emotions. Fear, paranoia, guilt, even regret at times.

I say climb, because it is always an upwards battle. The flaw in my alcoholism is there is never a downhill, never a release, never a finish until I lose myself completely. Ecstasy, until I'm on the ground, held down to the earth by the weight of my decisions, unable to rise until I'm back to misery. Unable to rise until after I've lost my senses.

Tonight should have been ecstasy. But sometimes, there is no escape from the world.

There is no real ecstasy.

All went black.

--

I awoke to the sound of rattling and grating metal. I winced hard. What an awful noise.

Upon opening my eyes, I was greeted with a bright yellow light boring directly into my vision. I let out a pained groan. "PHASD..." What was this place?

"Darcy Marsalis. Someone is here to see you."

A voice from the other side of the room pulled me out of my stupor, and I bolted upright, gaze darting around. A single man stood in the corner of the small cell I found myself in, one hand resting warily on a gun in his belt. Nonetheless, he looked at me with an incredibly bored expression.

"Where am I?" I demanded. "What's going on?"

"You're at the KCLH, bucko," another voice answered. A second form stalked out of the shadows from behind me, sounding much deeper and gruffer than the guard. I flinched, tensing up instantly, like a criminal caught in the act.

I recognized that tone.

"Long time no see, Darcy."

I clenched my jaw, glaring through slitted eyelids at the figure before me, swinging my legs over the side of the elevated cot I sat on. "Josiak Timberland. Long time no see indeed."

Josiak was of course much older since the last time I'd seen him, but regardless he seemed to have retained his muscular, imposing stature, with broad squared shoulders and a pose stiff enough to put a statue to shame. His thick dark hair had greyed tremendously, and a short, neat beard was now in place to cover his strong jaw. Rather than the lab coat I had been so used to seeing him in as a child, he now sported a sharp dark green KFMD uniform, a few unimpressive badges scattered about his chest. Formerly, he would wear a friendly, peaceful expression; it was now replaced with a wearied, melancholy countenance, hooded eyes and all. Nevertheless, a flicker of what could be interpreted as sorrow still held in his dim gaze as he stared down at me.

As he approached, I realized I could barely move a gear in my body. Thank goodness I was still feeling foggy, or I might have just started to cry.

"I'm sorry we had to meet up again this way," the captain grumbled awkwardly. The nervousness he displayed came off as very out-of-place on his stoney features. "I heard you got yourself into some trouble and was at the Citizen Liabilities Hold. Figured I'd bail you out, seeing as we've got a mission today..."

I nodded and pushed off the bed, taking in his new look, fighting off the feeling of comfort that I knew was threatening to emerge. I couldn't help it, I'd spent most of my childhood with him, of course I'd want to have a positive reaction to his kindly face. More solidified than that, however, was the intense animosity I maintained towards him. The stronger feeling pushed me to continue my cold disposition. Back on my feet, I began to dust myself off, being sure not to make eye contact. "Thank you, sir."

He shifted uncomfortably. "You don't need to call me sir, Da--"

"It's Officer Marsalis to you, captain," I interjected, aggravation boiling up in my tone. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

Was he expecting me to be perfectly okay with him being here right now? For us to be back on first-name terms, like nothing had ever happened? This only served to make me more upset.

He nodded, lowering his head. I could tell that my words really affected him. Thus was the beginning of an extensive, uneasy silence.

"All right, get out of here, you two," the guard called abruptly, breaking the quietude. "Exit's two halls and a staircase down, but be sure to check in with the examiners first. Go on."

--

I'd been a part of a lot of unpleasant situations, but this one without a doubt was near the top of the list. We slowly made our way down the corridors in lockstep. I wasn't quite sure what I was supposed to be feeling right now, but what I did know was that I had questions.

"How'd I end up here?" I asked. "How long was I out?"

He raised his eyebrows, as if surprised I said anything. "Well, your PHASD sent out a signal for a medical examiner, with a comment saying you were not in your right mind. Practitioners show up, and you're out on the floor, bottles everywhere." He pursed his lips. "They shut off your main power supply for a bit while they took you to the KAHRI to flush the alcohol out of your system, then they brought you here so they could assess the severity of your crime... y'know, possession of illegal goods..."

I nodded, almost wishing I hadn't inquired. I fidgeted with my hands behind my back. Jaw clenching, shoulders rigidly back a little too far, I waited for what I knew was coming next.

"Darcy, are you okay?" Josiak queried gingerly. His voice had taken on a far softer, more gentle approach. "I know things haven't been easy for you, but--"

I fought off the urge to retort with something like You'd know if you hadn't abandoned me all those years ago. "Yeah, everything's okay. No need to worry."

It was as if he was reading my thoughts. "Look, I'm sorry for leaving you then. I had no choice. They moved me to the KFMD before I could even say goodbye. You know how repositioning works. KFMD's my last career stop before they shut me down. I couldn't do anything about it."

He paused, stopping clear in his tracks. I quickly followed suit, though I didn't bother to turn and face him. The man shook his head. "I know how much I hurt you, kiddo. I wish there had been something I could do to stop it. It's okay if you don't want to forgive me, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd at least give it a shot. We're going to be spending a lot of time together again, and I don't want there to be any bad feelings between us. Please."

I let out a deep exhale, running my fingers through my hair, then resting my hands behind my neck. "Sure," I mumbled. "Whatever."

Obviously he could tell that my words were by no means genuine, but I didn't care. I absolutely did not want to think about this right now. This was all too much. I knew Whitlock had warned me Josiak would be on the squadron, but I hadn't reckoned with seeing him again so soon. Speaking of which...

"What time is it, sir?" I made sure to enunciate the last term with extra emphasis.

He looked down at his watch. "03:42."

"When's the mission?"

"05:30. Attendance at 05:00."

I cursed silently. He likely had stayed up for the last several hours trying to bail me out of the Hold, and wasn't going to get much sleep because of it. "Sorry, sir. Really."

"No need to apologize," he replied with a yawn. "I'm very happy to see you again. I missed you. A lot."

I caught myself just as a smile was about to break out. I couldn't let my guard down. He'd left me once, and who knows how long we were going to be together again before another separation. That was how things worked in Kartov, hence my number one rule: don't make attachments with employed citizens. You never knew if you were ever going to see them again. That's just the way things were, and that was okay with me.

"Before we leave, though, you're going to have to complete a required mental health evaluation," the man added, as though he had forgotten. "Have ever you taken one from here?"

I shook my head. I have never been detained before. Had I brought back alcohol to my flat in the past? Many times. But for some reason, this was the first time PHASD had ever reported me. Had I said something? Maybe, but I couldn't remember a single thing from last night.

He blinked a few times, nodding back as he opened a door for me. "Just as well. I'll let you know what to say, just do what I tell you and you'll get out scot-free. Just down the hall there."

"You've been in here before?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

Josiak cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed. "Ah, well..." He turned to face me again. "Things haven't exactly been easy for me either these past nine years, Darcy. Not for you, or me, or anyone else. Come on, now."

My lazy stare fell to the ground. I wanted to figure out what he'd been up to since he left me. Problem was, in order to do that, I'd have to get close enough to him again to have such conversations. Half of me wanted to run into his arms just the way I used to when I was little; the other half wanted to spit in his face for all the trouble he put me through, even when we weren't yet split from each other. I was at war with myself, but I needed to pick a side soon.

He may be my ex-personal student counselor, but he's also my new captain. I had to get over myself...

Yet he had been so much more than a counselor. He had been my closest friend, my most trusted companion. I knew it wasn't going to be so easy to go back to the friendship I could tell he craved again. For once, I didn't feel in the wrong.