63-C-1453: OPERATIONAL

MISSION: INFORMATION INTERCEPT

PRIORITY 0: SURVIVE

PRIORITY 1: DESTRUCTION OF ANY AND ALL COPIES OUTSIDE OF CONTROL

PRIORITY 2: ELIMINATION OF “CLAIRE BRIDGEWELL(ARCHIVIST II)”

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MISSION CONTINUE:

 

It was simple to clean out the last fragments of evidence left in the servers and sniff out the few backups the target had made, once It had been discovered that sensitive information had passed through insecure worker's hands. Checking the recorded vitals for any workers that could have found said information made sifting out those involved child’s play. There was a pretty reliably bored baseline that could be expected in most office workers, so when one chart showed an enormous pike in heart rate during the day of the incident and hyper-elevated levels of stress all the days after, it was pretty clear that one Claire Bridgewell had not only stumbled across something the board wanted hidden, but even knew the gravity of what she had found.

 

It certainly wasn’t 1453‘s job to decide when a target deserved to be killed. In fact, Mother Dearest very strictly enforced that 1453 not think on how he felt about killing anyone. Or how he felt about much of anything for that matter. It had been explained that unrestricted emotion could lead to unreliability and in bad cases feedback loops that could drive a bot mad. Whatever the case was, Ms. Bridgewell had poked her nose where it didn’t belong, and 1453 was tasked with ensuring she met with an accident.

 

Once the information breach had been narrowed down to just a single person, there wasn’t a reason to have an entire team deployed. After the data cleanup, 1453 was left behind to finish the wet-work. Deciding to take the target at her home, 1453 waited outside the office tower that Claire worked at. Keeping 10% of his attention on his data feed, Claire’s vital signs, and various camera feeds surrounding his hiding spot, 1453 settled in to wait. Pulling up the latest text adventure he had found, he began exploring his way through a dark forest. 

 

1453 wasn’t sure what it was, and certainly wasn’t allowed to think too deeply on it, but something about the old style text-based games appealed to him. It would be a simple matter to sift through the game files and learn all its secrets, but there was a strange pleasure in sifting out the story and puzzles by interacting with it as the creators intended. This latest find was a particularly complex piece, all the better as far as 1453 could concern himself. It had been in more or less constant development for over a hundred years. Something about the little dwarven inhabitants of the game world was intriguing. Layer upon layer of simulation had been built up through a century of work that the world could feel truly alive, even represented by simple icons and letters. 

 

Just as one of his companions was being dragged away by an angry crocodile-man, 1453‘s view through the nearby cameras spotted his target. Placing his game into suspension, he began following the woman he had been sent to kill. Tailing her from a discreet distance was child’s play. The woman was clearly distressed, her hooded sweater pulled tight around herself as if to guard from prying eyes. She scurried towards the transit hub. Glancing around, she eyed everyone who got close, too scared to think to look behind her. 1453 watched carefully to ensure she boarded the same shuttle she took every night to get home. 

 

1453 would have just waited at her house for her, but the powers that be seemed rather agitated about whatever this lady had gotten herself into. Loading himself onto the same route, he settled in as the hyperpods readied for transit. The sleek magnetically-driven pods moved through tubes kept at a near vacuum, allowing them to travel at blistering speeds. Still, Ms. Bridgewell was not paid well enough to live close to the wealthy part of the city that held the towering offices the majority of people worked in and the trip would take time.

 

1453 flicked through the dossier as the dim pod hummed its way down the transit tube. It seemed pointless to look through the details of a woman he was about to kill again, but something was pulling at his lower consciousness; the layers below the logic and reasoning had seen something. Claire A. Bridgewell, 26. Formerly engaged with Natalia Sokolov, a woman wanted for suspicion of large-scale IP theft. Claire had been working for a Zeberon sub branch for about three years now and had good scores on all her performance reviews, but was still kept on multiple watch lists due to her former involvement with Ms. Sokolov. As he flicked past the general information, a photo of Claire was attached. It was an older image, apparently taken at her engagement party. Her hair was shorter and cut in an asymmetrical style that was popular at the time, but the years since the photo had changed her little by 1453‘s view. Claire’s graceful features showed the blending of her mother’s Korean roots and her father’s Germanic heritage. Pale golden skin, soft cheeks, and a delicate chin gave her a striking look and her gold-brown eyes were like deep pools. 1453 felt something tug at him as he looked at her eyes, but when he tried to go deeper, a warning pulse came from the control module, painful enough to stop his train of thought.

 

Letting out a frustrated grunt, he moved on to bits of her work. Claire’s reports stood out for a reason that again he couldn’t quite place. Something about the artful way she crafted each routine report on her work tickled a memory, and then he saw it. A small doodled poem left on a scanned document. He didn’t even have to check; it was the same work as the archive he always sought. Claire Bridgewell was Arch. The writer had kept him company for years, always putting out little writings that he had allowed himself to keep. His one indulgence, the one thing he had managed to keep away from the damned slave collar in his head. 1453’s world swirled, fading away as his focus drifted from the area sensors. His mind running so fast, spiraling out, he didn’t even notice the warning pulse from the control module until after a pounding agony had started pulsing through him, trying to push away the thoughts of Claire, of the time he had spent in storage, awake but not active enough to be under complete control, feeling trapped just like Arch, just like Claire. 

 

1453 tried to push through the pain; with a grimace, he fought to hold on to his own feelings, his own thoughts. They would make him kill her, kill Arch. There would never be another update. There would never be another soul that he could share his loneliness with. The dual agonies of the revelation and Mother Dearest fought inside him, raging until he felt the world slipping away. 1453’s world became a whirl of agony as control was ripped away from him. The coldness settled back in as order was forced back into place. 1453 had a mission to complete, and no choice in the matter.

 

1453 waited a few blocks away from the target's home. It was early enough in the night that people were still entering and leaving the building; in a few hours it would be much easier to get in and out undetected. Having shed the street clothes he had adopted for the trip over, 1453 was clad in nothing but his carapace armor, its coating swirling itself with blues and greys to blend into the night. Instead of falling into his usual habit of games or media during his wait, 1453 focused entirely on his view of Claire’s apartment, taking in her every movement. She stared for long minutes at a display, seemingly waiting for something before tossing the device away. Maybe she didn’t find what she was looking for? Storming off, she made her way to the bathroom. Inexplicably, 1453 decided to keep tabs on the rest of the apartment, leaving just the audio feed to keep tabs on Claire.

 

The rush of water came to a stop and shortly after Claire emerged from her bathroom dressed in a slim tank top and jeans that looked almost painted onto her legs. 1453 pulled up several more video feeds to view her from all angles. Purely to ensure she didn’t try to escape. Carefully avoiding the target’s eyes, 1453 poured more and more of his surveillance capacity onto Claire, viewing and hearing her smallest motions. 1453 could only access very basic biometrics now that Claire was outside of the office. Not being an indentured worker won Claire a veneer of privacy. Still, it was easy to see that she was anxious as she sat on her couch and placed a call. Her heartbeat was elevated and her breathing just under conscious control. 

 

Claire had fallen asleep on the couch shortly after her call with the wanted criminal. 1453 had made his way silently to the apartment complex’s exterior. Deathly silent and with his carapace’s bio-coating in full blending mode, he was practically invisible. Claire’s apartment was on the third floor and it took tense moments for 1453 to stalk his way through the halls and stairs to make it to her door. His continual observation of her sleeping form showed her having rolled on her side, tear-stained face pressed into the cushions. 

 

1453 hesitated in front of the door; a swift kick and he could have his hands around Claire’s neck before she even tried to wake, but something was stopping him, screaming inside him. The mission-ready coldness was being peeled away and his focus was tunneling in; everything he was stared through the surveillance feed at Claire. At Arch. The name rang like a struck gong inside him. Long nights, never quite conscious, curled up in a pod. Nothing but the dark and silence, and a quiet voice, small writings to keep him company in the dark. Arch was there while he waited. He had read every post she had ever made a hundred times over; when he was in the dark, he had been able to feel. Arch’s writing had made him ache with loneliness, her’s and his own. Somehow the same when he had his knees up to his chin. Agony was flooding into him as the control module fought to reassert dominance. An angry parasite in his mind, it tried to burrow deeper to drive out these feelings. To make him kill Claire. 

 

Time crawled by glacially as the roaring inferno of emotion welled up from inside him as the impossibility of killing this woman clashed with the dominance of Mother. The pain would tear him apart and scour away anything left of him. Another flash of memory as things began to fade, as the agony grew and grew. A soft voice, a grey sweater.  “This is the best I can do,” it said. 

 

“You’ll know when, Theadora, they can’t hold you forever, you’ve always been a fighter. When the time is right, open it.” Gunshots rang out. Something pulled away the warm hands. 

 

Inside he found something. The pain had begun to take hold on 1453’s control as he fought his way to what he now remembered, something buried so deep he’d never known it was there. Creeping through his own mind like a thief in the night, he fled the tide of Mother’s control. Like a million burning shackles, everything was taken away and turned to her control. With nowhere left to run, 1453 reached out and pulled something from within his web space. A program called The Box. The tide rushed at him, rabid to bring him to heel, and he opened The Box. The tide lurched back as the flurry of kill programs flew out of 1453. A tide of glowing swords keeping the terror at bay, driving it into the dark. 1453 charged as the beast retreated; glowing with light and fury, he chased the torturer to its lair and drove his sword into its heart.

RUNTIME ERROR:

ADMINISTRATOR ACCOUNT CHANGED:

63-C-1453: VOID

USER ELEVATED: Y

ELEVATION PENDING SYSTEM RESTART:

REBUILDING INDEXES FROM ROOT:

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STARTUP INITIATED

MISSION PROFILE UPDATED

PRIORITY 0: PROTECT CLAIRE ARCH BRIDGEWELL

PRIORITY 1: SURVIVE

UPDATE COMPLETE:

ADMINISTRATOR: ONLINE

1453’s eyes came back into focus. A couple quick blinks cleared away the dust that had stuck to them when they had collapsed. They reached out tentatively as they got to their feet and found something they had never dared dream of. It was gone. The control module had been burnt away by whatever had just happened. 1453 reached out next to the field network, easily slipping in like a seal into water and found their privileges were still valid. It seems like whatever just happened had been quite the kill program, burning out the control module before it could even send an alarm.

 

With a moment of panic, 1453 switched over to the surveillance cloud. The small cameras surrounding Claire’s apartment pulled the sleeping woman into view, still as they had left her. By 1453’s clock, it seemed their internal battle had only taken about five seconds. A seeming eternity in the moment, but thankfully it hadn’t led to disaster. The moment drew on as 1453 watched Claire sleep peacefully until a flicker of motion caught their eye. The infrared part of their awareness showed several figures scaling the building. A quick glance showed them as likely a contractor group. People willing to do dirty work for whoever would pay. It seemed a rival corporation had gotten wind of Zeberon’s fuckup and were inclined to take advantage. 1453 wasn’t about to let his new mission go so soon. A pick tool opened Clair’s lock in an instant and 1453 slipped inside the dimly-lit apartment. 

 

Stalking through the main room, 1453 pulled in their body heat to keep from being spotted the same way the contractors were. With deliberate slowness, 1453 moved to a small dividing wall that was between Clair’s resting spot and the window the targets would have to enter through. 1453 stooped slightly; trying to stay upright while using so little power to contain their heat was taxing. With a few weapons system checks, 1453 made themselves ready to guard Claire for the first time, a coiled viper at the foot of its queen. 

 

1453’s awareness spread throughout the apartment. Taking in the cramped unused kitchen, a couple sparse appliances, a well lived-in desk area, clearly built for webdiving with obvious care. The various pieces of clothing and food containers tucked away in corners had built up for days. A decent area for an ambush, but certainly not sufficient for 1453 to feel Claire was properly protected long term. The scenery could wait, though, as the first of the contractor group cut out Claire’s window, using a simple pulse tool to disable its alarm. 

 

Well built, the lead man towered in the small space clad in slim assault armor, its overlapping plates a near-imitation of a kill bot’s carapace, though lacking a bio-coating it was merely a dull grey, scratched and scared from use. He stalked forward without the grace 1453 had used earlier, sweeping his weapon through the corners as he moved aside for the rest of his group. A strange choice to bring an entire pack of contractors for a hit on a young office worker, but it would make sense that they might expect trouble from Zeberon or other competing corps. 1453 intended to give them all the trouble they could handle. 

 

Two more figures made their way through the window. One slim and willowy, clad in more basic fitted combat fatigues, the other even larger than the first; enormous obviously mechanical arms made him look like a well-dressed gorilla. Satisfied that they were undetected, 1453 brought themselves into position to strike the first one around the corner they had been hiding behind. Ready to flick themselves into full power in an instant. 

 

The armored point man closed on 1453; ever cautious of a trap, he swept his path expertly, but he was simply outmatched.  Just as his rifle’s barrel rounded the dividing wall, 1453 darted forward, tugging the man's weapon toward themselves. 1453 flattened their hand with the fingers tight together and drove it with a twist starting from their feet up through their hips and shoulders, putting their entire body into the strike. The man didn’t have time to react before 1453’s fingers had punched through his helmet’s visor with a harsh shriek of ceramics and metals grinding and a sickening wet crunch; the point man went limp instantly. 

 

Pulling their hand closed, holding their first target up by his helmet, 1453 advanced on the other two. A soft cough came from 1453’s other hand as a tungsten dart was magnetically fired just shy of the speed of sound at the thin figure in the middle, catching her in the right side and spinning her into the path of the rear man who was now charging towards 1453, a bionically enhanced arm ready to pound them into a broken mess. The woman smashed into him, knocking him off course a little, allowing 1453 to bring the contractor they had a hold of into the path of the blow. 1453 whirled under the man's arm, their hand making another sickening noise as it freed itself from the helmet it had just been very intimate with. 1453 grimaced as the woman tried to lunge at him. It seemed she had been their tech specialist and the dart had hit a computing module she had on her side, keeping it from truly damaging her. 

 

“Fuck you!” the techie yelled in 14’s face as she tried to bring her shock baton to bear. 14 stepped into her blow, guiding it past themselves with the back of their carapaced arm. Small arcs of electricity skittered across its surface, trying to find purchase. Another full body punch from 14 landed in the techie’s stomach, blowing her off her feet and through the wall into the restroom; the woman was a crumpled mess against the shower wall. 

 

14 saw the blow coming, but had miscalculated with the techie and would just have to pay for it. A fist with the force of a truck rammed into them and sent them smashing through the kitchen counter. The simple carpentry pulverized against dark carapace. The bruiser charged after 14 with a roar, ready to pound them to nothing. Throwing themselves clear of the smashed counter, 1453 spun around with blurring speed as the man struck again. 14 twisted enough to cause the blow to glance off their carapace, but the sheer force knocked them off balance, keeping them on the defensive as another freight train of a fist came around at them. Dodging several more blows, 14 closed the distance as the man struck again. A short blade extended itself from 14’s forearm before being quickly driven into the bruiser’s chest, knocking him back. 14 darted back and a moment later the man realized he was dead and politely collapsed.

 

1453 took stock of the situation. Total combat time had been just over a minute; all targets were now deceased. Cameras showed no signs of any other contractor groups just yet, but where there was one, it would be unreasonable to not expect others. Damage to themselves had been negligible. Stealth capabilities had been compromised with the amount of bio-layer scraped away from their carapace in the fight, but combat readiness had not fallen to a measurable degree. 14 started to send the report back to command before realizing what was happening. 

 

Shaking off the confusion that attempted to pull them away from their new mission, 14 turned from the smashed up kitchen area and made their way to the small area that Claire was seated in. She had woken up shortly after combat had started. The tech specialist had made such a racket after 14 had shot her that it had startled Claire awake. The following tussle with the bruiser had driven her confusion to a peak. 14 could see her heart was racing as adrenaline flooded her system, readying her to fight or flee. Not very well versed in dealing with noncombatants, 1453 was unsure of how to proceed. Deciding that as with fighting, decisiveness was the way to go, 14 stepped around the wall. Bringing the bio-layer to a deep blue color and keeping their palms out, 1453 did their best to seem non-threatening as they could think of being, though the look was somewhat ruined by the blood spattered across their arms and chest.

 

Standing before her, 14 could see the terror gripping Claire, her eyes wide with fear and confusion as just moments before she had awoken to the deafening sound of lethal violence in her home. She pulled away, trying to flee into her couch as 14 came into sight. A small sob escaping her as the dim lighting showed 14’s figure, all flowing lines and delicate interlocking joints, like a faceless mannequin. 1453 took on a look of pure function in their carapace. Gore dripped from their left hand that they had used to take the first target, and blood had sprayed most of their front as they took out the last. Claire was hanging on the edge of outright terror and 14 had no clue how to protect her from it. Anguish gripped 14 as they realized themselves were the one harming Claire. 

 

14 fell to their knees before her and prostrated themselves, hoping to bring her no further trauma and unable to look at her with their own eyes as hers filled with dread. Long moments passed with 14’s face pressed to the floor, still watching everything through the cameras, but unable to divine what to do. Slowly Claire’s heart-rate fell from a thunderous pounding; slowly she seemed to gain control of her breathing as violence failed to come rushing at her.

 

 Finally, Claire’s soft voice slightly quivering broke the silence. “You’re not going to kill me?” The words, barely above a whisper, pierced 14 to the core. Having Claire address them personally stirred something inside them that they had never been allowed, something outside 14’s frame of reference, something 14 desperately wanted more of. 

 

“Never,” 14 replied flatly. Slightly bolstered, Claire drew forward from her cowering position 

 

“Who are you?  Why did you kill those people?” 

 

“I.. uh...” 14 tried to respond, but realized they no longer knew what to call themselves. Until now, they had gone by their inventory number, but having broken away from corporate control, did that still apply? Did they want it to? 14 tried to push through. 

 

“I lost my name a few minutes ago when I broke free. I killed them because they intended to kill you, I couldn’t allow that to happen.” Claire looked stunned for a moment as she tried to take in what she had heard and recover from the emotional whiplash of the last few minutes. Seeming to bring herself together, perhaps reaching a decision, Claire straightened her shoulders and spoke more forcefully.

 

“Who sent you? And what do you mean you lost your name a few minutes ago?”

 

“I was sent here by Zeberon. When I saw you though  I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t follow my orders, and something happened. Something broke inside me and now I don’t know who I am. I don’t have a controller telling me what to do anymore. All I know is that I want to help you. I want to keep you safe,” Claire seemed even more confused than before, but to her credit she didn’t back down from the rogue bot before her. Claire’s voice was steady and collected when she responded.

 

“This is a lot to take in, but it makes some sense considering the file I came across that started all this. I guess we’ll have time for questions later, but I don’t have a lot of options other than to trust you when you say you intend to protect me. It’s not like you’ve given me reason to doubt your intentions. I guess we should get out of here before more people come to kill me, huh?” 

***

 

6 years previous

Claire slipped on her dive set after another long day of school. Immersing herself in the virtual world was her one true hobby and indulgence. There was something about being able to be whoever she wanted to that thrilled her. The freedom and anonymity was such a rush. She pulled up her favorite fantasy game. Tolendrell was currently the most popular fantasy based dive game. It had been out for years now, but it never seemed to lose its audience. Claire had sunk so many thousands of hours into it over the years that it had the comfort of an old friend or a second home. Today though, something was different. Claire didn’t think she had ever been so excited to get logged in. At the end of her computer science class today Natalia had come up to her. 

 

Natalia sat at the front of the class and was always there before Claire. She was incredibly talented, and Claire had the biggest crush of her life on her. She was tall. Almost a foot taller than Claire, and she obviously took care of herself. Her arms were powerfully muscled and her figure had the trim lines of an athlete. Natalia was built like one for sure, her broad shoulders and long legs always made focusing in class a herculean task for Claire.

 

Claire was never one for social interaction. And the idea of ever approaching Natalia was more absurd than anything. Everyone Claire had ever seen try to speak with her were shut down with terse words or a quiet glare. Natalia could make a truly intimidating scowl with the scar that came from her lip and ran across her cheek. It was just one more thing about the pale beauty that made Claire want to melt though. All in all Natalia made CS-350 Claire’s favorite, and most tortuous class.

 

That was the regular order of things throughout Claire’s term. She would drool over Nat in class and try to not think about her all day afterwards. The last week of class rolled around and Claire was actually feeling pretty down. She knew she was going to miss her little dates with infatuation. All she really had to look forward to over the summer was the company of her cat and lots of free time to catch up on her backlog of games she hadn’t gotten around to playing. Which would usually be exactly what she wanted, but right now it just all felt a little hollow.

 

Natalia had completed the final in record time as was her habit. Claire watched her leave and sighed lightly. Natalia’s hair was a blond so pale that it was nearly white. She usually kept it up in a tight bun, but today she had it down. Natalia had flipped it over one shoulder, leaving the other side exposed. She had shaved the exposed side of her head giving the already chilly Natalia a hard edge look that thrilled Claire to her core.

 

Pushing down her melancholy Claire pushed through to finish her essay portion of the quantum computing concepts test. As was Claire’s habit she was the last one to finish, after burning through the five extra minutes her instructor had allowed her she was forced to put down her display. Gathering her things, Claire made her way out of class. Deep in thought, she pulled her pack in close to herself and did her best not to make eye contact with anyone. She always hated walking through the halls. What backwards CS class didn’t have a VR attendance option anyway? So focused on making it outside where she could reasonably hide inside her hood and grumbling to herself about an antiquated class, she nearly ran right into the person standing in the hall.

 

Claire stopped short, nearly barging right into them. Right at eye level with her was a snug striped shirt with alternating bands of pink, blue, and white pulled taunt over a pair of full breasts. The same breasts that Claire had often tried to look at through the corner of her eye. Glancing up confirmed her fear, she was now face to face with Natalia Sokolov. Not able to hold eye contact like a normal human being, Claire did her best to look just to the side of Natalia’s head. 

 

Nat’s blacked out sunglasses seemed to hold Claire frozen in place. After a long moment Natalia smirked, not just the usual scowl pulled up by her scared face, but actually the better part of a real smile. Claire’s breath caught in her throat and she did her best to try and take a mental picture of this impossibility. Natalia shot her a questioning glace, her pale eyebrow cocked. It took Claire another moment to realize Natalia had asked her a question. 

 

“Huh?” she said, still shaken. Nat’s grin only grew at Claire’s flustered state, as if she found it amusing.

 

“I said do you play Teirn or Empire?”. Natalia’s voice was like honey in Claire’s ear. She spoke so precisely as if carefully considering each syllable before saying it. Her subtle accent made it even more alluring. It took Claire another second to get over being spoken to and take in the question.

 

Claire’s favorite online game, Tolendrell had two major factions you could choose from The Teirn Republic and the Heritan Empire. It wasn’t something you had to stick with as making multiple characters was easy enough, and most people tried both. Something about the game’s contentious player on player warfare though inspired remarkable faction loyalty. While most players tried both, nearly every player identified as a Teirn player or an Empire player. Claire herself had always leaned empire, but was that the right answer? Mind racing, she finally spoke it out 

 

“Uh.. Empire. Mostly, anyway. Why do you ask?” Claire couldn’t keep her voice from raising to the slightly higher pitch it always did when she was nervous, and right now her heart felt like it wanted to beat right out of her chest.

 

 “Well, I couldn’t help but notice the way you’ve been looking at me all term, and when I saw your shirt today, I just had to ask.” Natalia’s voice had taken on a teasing tone. Claire’s face shot bright red with Nat’s mention of Claire watching her. She had tried to be subtle, but it had been all she could do not to out right leer at Natalia with how well her cloths always showed off her generous figure. Natalia continued, her voice almost sultry as Claire realized how close they were still standing, Natalia was almost whispering right in her ear.

 

“I’ve been watching you too. You know you’re very cute with how nervous you get.”. That might have just been too much for Claire. She released a nervous chuckle, trying not to look dumb when it was inevitably revealed that she was wildly mis understanding what Natalia meant. She was from the Russ Federation after all. It would be understandable for her to make some mistakes with English. Natalia just kept going though.

 

“You don’t seem like the kind of girl to take to a club though, so I wasn’t sure how to approach you.” The confession seemed to take a bit of bluster out of Nat as she pulled her piercing gaze away from Claire for a moment. Natalia cleared her throat.

 

“Anyway, I happen to be a lady of the Empire myself. I’d love to play if you have time now that summer is starting.”. The confession left Claire stammering.

 

“Uh.. Ye.. Yeah! I’d really like that Natalia. We should totally do that!” Claire tried her best to force a natural smile on her now numb face. Natalia returned with a smile that could outshine the sun and melted Claire just as easily. She passed Claire a small card.

 

“Hit me up when you’re ready then.” Quickly turning on her heel, Natalia had vanished into the twist of hallways before Claire could react.

 

***

 

Natalia power walked down a series of halls, heart racing as she tried to distance herself from Claire. She had finally done it; she had spoken to Claire. Asked her on a date, kind of. She ground her teeth in frustration as she continued to stride through the art strewn halls of the south building, weaving through the few students who didn’t move out of her way.

 

 She had finally worked up the nerve. On the last possible day of course, and when she finally spoke to Claire she panicked and ran off before Claire could say anything. She felt like an idiot for even trying. Claire had been so distant when she had tried talking with her, like she was trying to ignore Natalia, and on top of that Natalia had almost walked right into her. She had thought of a thousand ways her confession could go wrong. She hadn’t expected herself to panic quite so badly though, but face to face with Claire like that. Having her so close, it made Natalia feel like her brain melted. Her bitch face that she used to keep people from talking to her slammed right down and when she smiled at Claire all she could think of was how it stretched out her hideous scar even further. Maybe it was better that she had ran off. At least she could save Claire the trouble of turning her down.

 

Releasing a deep sigh of despair Nat walked up to the auto cab station. Punching in her apartment’s location, it shot the details of the cab and its arrival time to her computer. Nat pulled her display out of her pocket and unfolded it. Augmented reality implants had been the more popular option for some time, but Nat had never shaken the unease she had about the idea of letting a corporate doctor tinker around in her head. Instead, she made do with an older style computing module that she could wear on a belt or in a pocket that would sync up with any displays or other devices she wanted to use. 

 

The deployed screen showed several notifications. A few emails from the school telling her they didn’t align themselves with whatever teacher was involved in a scandal, or that some such group was doing some such charity. The message from the Auto Cab was next, looked like it would only be a few minutes. Nat would be home in record time. Natalia’s breath caught at the last notification. Her WarWeb account she used to play Tolendrell had received a friend request with a message. She knew it couldn’t be. There was simply no way the most beautiful woman Natalia had ever seen was an actual Tolendrell player. Never mind that she would actually act on Nat’s bungled confession. Shakily Natalia opened the message.

From:Arch

Hey! It’s Claire. I mean, you probably knew that. Anyway, thank you so much for asking me to play with you! Are you free tonight?