The Bodyguard (Part 18).
Part 18.
[Note to anyone new to this little project. This represent a continuous long-form story so as such should be read in order if possible. Your choice, but pretty serious spoilers from here on. I hope you enjoy - Dimi]
18.
“Here.” Pollux closed the sliding door behind Cherna and started rummaging through his saddle bags. He produced a small silver revolver and showed it to the girl, who looked at it curiously. “You know how to use it?” She shook her head. “Here. Aim, like this,” he pulled her arms out, slightly bent, “pull the trigger,” she pulled, and the gun clicked onto an empty chamber. “I’ll show you how to reload it, here,” he placed six .357 Magnum rounds into the six chambers and closed the cylinder. “See?” The girl nodded. “For now, only use it if you absolutely need to, understand?”
The girl nodded silently, her face deadly serious.
“Good. Let’s go.” He picked her up by the waist with both hands and put her on the back of the bike, then climbed on. He kicked the starter and gears, and the pair climbed into the late afternoon sky. They were about 10 minutes away from the Red Square and flew in silence. He parked the airbike in the air at a safe distance from the square and pulled his binoculars out, a light wind beating at his cloak tails. He was looking for the Irishwoman he’d seen before, confident that he could pin down the others through her and hopefully get a lead on what he’d seen in the abandoned factory. A flash caught his eye. A figure in a long coat and a hood was jumping across rooftops in the distance.
“I thought only I cou-“ he stopped, “Cherna, take the wheel, quickly. He swung the girl around him - she made a ‘woop’ sound - and put her in his lap, “twist the handle gently, and turn that way.” She complied, managing the throttle well. They moved parallel to the figure, and Pollux watched him through the binoculars. The hood slipped back for a second, and a mask, much like the one he’d picked up all that time ago in the lab, revealed itself momentarily.
“Motherfucker,” said Pollux.
“Moth…er?” queried Chera.
“I know him.”
“Friend?”
“Definitely not. Wait-“ he cut himself off and shifted the binoculars in the direction the figure was moving. Sure enough, on a rooftop maybe a mile in front of them, a girl with brown hair lay in front of a huge sniper rifle, another, one Pollux didn’t recognise, stood next to her, himself looking through a pair of binoculars into the Square. He didn’t bother checking where they were looking.
“Give me the handles,” he pushed her hands off to a whine of disappointment, and accelerated rapidly towards the two on the tower, coming alongside the figure at a around 100 yards distance. The figure noticed them but kept running. Pollux leant back and unhooked a leather rifle case, drawing a long rifle with a large round lever. “Take them again,” he barked, and took aim. He fired, the force of the round going off shifting the airbike slightly. The figure blocked it with his arm but stumbled momentarily. It was watching them now, running as it did.
“Oww,” cried Cherna, covering her ears.
“Sorry, keep them covered.” He grabbed the throttle with his right hand and spun the rifle with his left, re-cocking it, and firing again, necessarily without shouldering it this time. The round pinged off of the rooftop the figure was crossing. A moment later he jumped, clearing a gap in the roofs, spinning as he did, hurling a knife at the pair. Pollux leant over Cherna, covering her, and it embedded itself into his cloak, the point barely penetrating his metal back.
***
“Well, at least it’s not raining.” Hiji pulled at his bomber jacket’s fur-lined lapels, his sword swinging lightly in the cold evening winds. He wiped off his binoculars and pointed them at the mall in the square. “What’s going on?”
“You can hear the conversation, idjit.”
“Not paying attention.”
“They’re chatting about God or something. Castor’s C.O. is proper mental.”
“I mean he did shoot himself.” Hiji dropped the binoculars and took out a cigarette. As he flicked at the lighter a gunshot rang out nearby. He and Fiadh turned to see an airbike speeding at them, and a figure running at them.
“That your friend?” shouted Hiji, drawing his sword and powering it up.
“Looks like him,” she said, picking a small pump action shotgun, and cocking it.
“Who’s he shooting at?” but by the time she finished speaking the running figure was already on Hiji, red eyes glowing, mono-molecular short sword flashing. Hiji parried smoothly and riposted into thin air. He’d shifted rightwards, had had already begun swinging downwards again. Hiji reacted slightly too late, and the infinitely sharp blade drew a long cut along his left shoulder. He shifted again before Hiji could even react to the pain, aiming a thrust into his side. A 12-gauge slug slammed into his torso, sending him sliding a foot or two.
Hiji composed himself, turning and taking a knee sheathing his sword as he did. Another bang from behind him, the would-be assassin shifting sideways, avoiding the shot, followed by an Irish-accented curse. The airbike screamed to a standstill above, and another metal man jumped down landing with a thud near Hiji, who didn’t move, his attention totally focused on the target in front of him. Fiadh turned her shotgun to the newcomer.
“What do you want?” She shouted.
“I have unfinished business with that thing.” The man spoke coldly and with a mechanical sounding rasp. Rain had started falling, softly at first, but it soon began beating down, filling the air with a crunching sound like radio static. He turned away from her and to their opponent. As he did a blonde girl jumped down, appearing to slow as she landed. The would-be assassin just stood there. It started making a strange repetitive screeching sound. It was laughing.
“I should hhhhhave known you’d find usssss eventually, zero-zero-five,” the awful grinding sounds came tumbling out of the assassin’s mouth, barely intelligible, “you fffffucking fffffailure. You’re luckyyyy I didn’t khhilll-.”
A bang rang out just behind Pollux, and a small calibre round pinged off his mask, silencing him.
Fiadh laughed loudly, a mix of nerves and battle-worn bravado, “Nice shot kid!”
Pollux glanced at the girl. She looked up at him and shrugged. He sighed and turned back, just in time to see the assassin’s blade reaching towards his face, slicing through the now pouring rain. A catastrophic bang rang out, shaking the building they were standing on, and unbalancing the assassin. Pollux saw an opportunity and took it, shifting his weigh and feet. He grabbed the offending arm and twisted, locking mechanical joints, and throwing the assassin to the side of the square rooftop.
“Feckking Bella! That was our building!” yelled Fiadh
The assassin jumped off of the roof backwards, launching another knife, this time aimed at the blonde girl. Pollux was caught off-guard, reacting too slowly. Hiji, still in his crouched stance flashed forwards, propelled by his augmetic legs. He handily deflected the knife away from the girl. It spun off, landing with a clatter nearby. The assassin fell, grinding laughter following him.
“Shit. We need to get down to the square ASAP. You, metal man. Come with,” shouted Fiadh
Pollux looked at Cherna. She shrugged again.
“Fine.” He picked the girl up, crouched, and leapt impossibly high to the airbike hovering above. He drew it low towards the pair, “Grab the mountboards.”
***
“What the fuck have you done?” yelled Castor.
“What do you think? Removing part of the problem, my boy. Remember when I said it’s a shame more of you didn’t stay? Well, I’m glad Ana and your wife were with you, at least.”
“You fucking bastard!” Cassiopea opened up with her MP5K/45, peppering him across his chest. He fell, looking at Castor with a grin on his face.
“Jesus Cassi,” Bart ran up shouting, holding Marie by the hand. Cassiopea fell to her knees, sobbing. Castor knelt and put his arm over her, talking into her ear. Around them, people were screaming and running. Police sirens sounded in the distance. A low hum sounded behind them. An airbike approached the ground, Hiji and Fiadh hanging from its mountboards. They jumped down, and the airbike followed suit, landing slowly. A mechanical-looking man was sat on it, a young girl leaning past his shoulder, watching them curiously.
“You guys okay?” Asked Castor, eyeing the newcomers suspiciously.
“Got ambushed, some drone or other.”
“It wasn’t a drone.” Said the metal man flatly, “he’s like me.”
“Look, we don’t have time for this,” said Ana, “the house, for fuck sake.”
Castor stood and opened comms, “Rickard? Ma’am? Anyone?” nothing.
“Fuck!.” He yelled. The sirens were growing louder.
“C-py” a familiar static drenched voice came through.
“Felix?”
“E-A 3- se-onds,” the voice became clearer as he spoke, “ge- t-e f-k in when w- get there, we need to leave, pronto.”
Moments later one of the coaches swooped out of the sky and landed nearby, its side gate opening, Irene hanging out of it, her hair loose and rain-soaked, “Get the fuck in!”
The group clambered aboard, panting and heaving. Hiji’s arm was covered in blood and machine fluid. He sat down on one of the seats, swearing. Ana came to him immediately. Castor leant out of the doorway, looking at Pollux and the girl, “Follow us!” he yelled, and closed the door behind him. Arabella was sitting at the back of the coach, in tears. Cassi saw her and ran to her, still flush and teary eyed.
“Cassi,” she sobbed, “Derek… Calvo…” the rest was incoherent sobbing. Ana sniffed as she tended to Hiji’s wounds. Marie was clinging to Bart, her hands around his chest, her face buried in his shoulder. He watched her, his eyes shimmering. The rest were silent.
They all rested for a moment as the coach climbed into dark sky, rain battering the windows. It breached the clouds, the windows darkening against the setting sun. Castor sat on his own by a row of seats. Their new companion pulled alongside. He was alone on the bike. Castor gestured at him to indicate this. The man looked behind him, and then around, confused.
“Hallo!” Castor jumped in his seat. Ana and Hiji, sitting across from him, yelped. A small blonde girl was sitting next to Castor, a big dumb grin on her face. Castor looked out to the airbike, tapping the window and pointing. The man saw, and sank momentarily over the handlebars, before sitting up again and shrugging, his arms outstretched.
“My name is Cherna, I aaam friend!” She looked at Castor expectantly.
“Umm… I’m Castor. Nice to meet you. How did you…”
“Cherna just do.” She said matter-of-factly. Castor looked back over to the airbike. He was watching, his shoulders bouncing up and down. He was laughing.
“He iss Micha! Or, you call him Pollux,” she said, correcting herself.
“You’re fucking kidding me.” Said Castor.
“Fuckeeng?” the girl answered back. Ana snorted through red eyes.
“Never mind.” He looked over to Cassi and Arabella. Irene had joined them. Their Lady stood up suddenly, trying to pull her aristocratic authority out of thin air. She was not very successful.
“Rickard and Calvo are gon-“ she fell back down into her seat, unable to keep appearances.
“Aw, fuck.” Bart groaned and buried his face in Marie’s blonde hair. He shook slightly, and she tightened her grip on him.
Cherna watched, no longer smiling. Cassi stood up, stopping when she saw the girl.
“How did she get here?” she whispered.
“No idea,” Said Castor, gesturing out of the window to the air bike, “he just shrugged.”
Cassi looked over to Hiji and Ana. They both shrugged, Hiji regretting it instantly, wincing in pain.
The girl shifted over, making space for Cassiopea. Cassi thanked her wordlessly and sat next to Castor. He put his arm over her shoulder, she turned to him, her face in his neck.
“Rickard found a bomb. One of the new ‘guards. He forced them into the aircar, but Calvo insisted on trying to disarm it. He wanted to save the others…” She began crying again, speaking through sobs, “Derek picked him up and ran off to wherever he found it.” She broke down thoroughly. Cherna watched them, a sad look in her eyes.
“Friend?” she asked Castor.
“Yes. Good friends, both.”
“I’m sorreee.” She looked down at the floor for a moment, before getting up. They all watched as she slowly and awkwardly plodded her way to Arabella. She looked up at the unfamiliar girl, tears streaming down her face. Cherna hopped up on the seat next to her and hugged her suddenly. Arabella, too overwhelmed, simply continued crying.
Cassi looked up at Castor and stared into his eyes, teardrops running down her flushed cheeks. Her eyes shifted from dark orange to a cool silver. Her face hardened.
“We’re going to kill those fuckers.” She whispered, loud enough for the other two across the aisle to hear. They looked at the couple with grim faces.
“Yeah.” He leant over slightly and kissed her lips gently.
They rested there for a while, the low hum of the aircar sending some to sleep, exhausted by the day’s events. Castor looked across the coach to see Irene, Arabella, and Cherna slumped over each other, all sleeping. It was a strange but soothing sight.
“Give me a second, sweetheart,” he whispered into Cassi’s ear.
“Mhm,” she replied. He slipped out of her arms and walked up to the cockpit door. He opened it, and a rushing sound followed. He closed it quickly behind him, not wishing to wake up any of the passengers. Felix was in the process of closing the window, Pollux was riding alongside the left-hand side of the cockpit. Felix saw Castor.
“Take a seat Caz,” he gestured to a gap between him and his computerised co-pilot, “I just gave our friend here a radio-set,” he gestured to a small unit sitting on the dashboard.
“You hear me?” a mechanical voice came through.
“Check. Castor’s with me.”
“Wait, that’s-”
“The other twin. Gemini.” Said Castor.
Pollux looked through the window at Castor, blue eyes glowing.
“What’s your deal with all this?” Castor asked.
“They made me like this,” Pollux opened his cloak for a second, showing off his torso, a mass of steel and wires.
“They just killed the man who gave my wife away to me, and the priest that married us.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. You know what my wife just said?”
“What?”
“Kill ‘em all.”
Silence, for a moment.
“Kill ‘em all.” Pollux repeated.
Castor nodded at him through the cockpit window.
“Where we going, Felix?” asked Castor.
“Honestly? Fuck knows. We’ve lost most of the servants, and the estate in Switzerland isn’t picking up.” He sighed.
“Greece?”
“I’ll try them.” Felix grabbed a secondary radio and dialled a number. “Go back to them, this might take a while. Either way, I’m gonna have to sleep at some point. I’ll start by looking for somewhere where we can stop for the night.” He began tapping at one of the consoles in front of him.
Castor returned to the main cabin. Cherna had moved to where Castor was sat. She was looking at Cassi, who was lying over two seats, asleep. She looked up at him.
“Is shee your friend?” she asked.
“She’s my wife, Cherna.”
“Waiif?” she asked quietly, curious.
Castor sighed. Who is this girl, anyway?
He picked her up gently, and placed her on the seat facing them, before scooping up a half-sleeping Cassi, and taking her under his arm. She moaned softly and reached around him before becoming still again.
“I married her. You see?” He showed her his wedding band. She eyed it curiously. He sighed, “It’s when a man and a woman want to be together forever.”
The girl put her fingers to her lips and ‘hmmed’.
“What it means is that I would do anything for this woman, that I love her.”
“I think I understand,” she seemed to over-enunciate the verbs whenever she spoke.
The girl went silent and gazed out of the window at Pollux. Castor, leaning his head on Cassi’s fell asleep.
***
Felix landed them on a hillside, somewhere in Poland. It was low and treeless, offering good visibility. Off to the East a forest, not unlike the one that they staying in in Lativa, spread off into the horizon. To the west, endless rolling hillocks and fields common to that part of the world. Pollux touched down nearby, and shut down his airbike. Cherna strutted out of the side doors and over to Pollux. Castor and Hiji followed.
“Thanks for protecting her.” Pollux nodded to Hiji.
“Thanks for helping us out. We probably wouldn’t have been able to take him alone. Fucking fast, he really took me down a peg.” He put his hand on his bandaged shoulder, sucking his teeth.
“Yeah, well, when I saw him coming at you, I knew we were on the same side, more or less.” Rasped Pollux. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of a saddle bag and passed one to each. Cherna put her hand out and Pollux gently swatted it away. She stomped off, pouting. Hiji chuckled.
“I didn’t see her sneak on the coach.” Said Castor.
“Oh, she just kind of… jumps around.”
Castor gave him a strange look.
“I don’t know man,” Pollux leant back on the seat of his airbike, “I bumped into her and her sister on my way over from Japan.”
At this Hiji perked up, “How is it over there?”
“It’s okay, I guess. Before this,” he gestured at himself, “it was quite pleasant.”
Hiji looked at the sky, wistfully.
“What do you mean, ‘jumps around’? pressed Castor.
“Look, man. I don’t know what she is. I met her and her sister on the way over to Europe. By some lake. When she touches me, I feel it. You know, like skin,” he extended his arm and looked at it.
“Sister?”
“She can duplicate herself, or something, I don’t get it.”
Castor scratched his head.
“Yeah, me too. I gave up a while ago. She’s a friend, at least.”
“Well,” said Hiji, looking through the window of the coach. Cherna was sitting, the girls all around her, nattering and smiling, “she seems to be good for morale.”
Pollux laughed, “Yeah, that she is.”
Bart came over, cautiously taking an offered cigarette.
“Weird girl. I feel all calm when I’m around her, like I’m not supposed to notice her materialisin’ all over the place.”
Pollux shrugged and flicked his windproof lighter.
“Thanks. So, what’s your deal in all this?” said the Texan, a cloud of smoke falling out of his mouth as he did.
Pollux reached up and pulled off his mask.
“Fuck me.” Said Hiji.
“Yeah, yeah… my nervous system, including my brain, put into this thing. Fucking moustache let me go for some reason. I apparently resisted their brainwashing. Drugged me, strapped me down to a table, plugged me in, and flashed a bunch of nonsense into my brain.”
“Why did Rasford let you go?”
“So that’s his name. No idea, ‘orders’ he said. This whole thing feels like some weird game.”
“Castor and Pollux, both drawn into the same confrontation with a couple of dead men, all gamed by an AI. I’m going to look for a bottle or two,” said Bart, and he wandered off to the rear of the coach.
“And you, what’s your deal in this?”
“I work for Arabella de Saint, or Rossi.”
Pollux froze.
“The Rossis did this to me.”
“Her cousins, or more accurately, her cousin. Jonathan. He’s behind all this. Our mistress is just a free-wheeling aristo, a branch of the family. Until now, I guess.”
“Make a fire, please Belisarius, we need to talk.”
Arabella, still a little red in her eyes, ordered from the coach door. She eyed Pollux strangely.
“Yes, Ma’am. Come on, Pollux. You’re gonna have to pull your weight around.”
“Sure. I’ll head down to the forest and gather some wood,” he looked at Hiji, “come with, we can put that sword of yours to use, I’ll let you about Nihon.” Hiji nodded and the two trudged off towards the forest at the base of the hill, exchanging words in Japanese.
Irene came over and hugged the three ‘guards one after another, “She wants to tell the story herself.”
The four of them gathered rocks and dried grass and formed a rough hearth near the coach. Felix extended a tarp over its side. Bart came back with a few bottles of spirit he’d rummaged from the luggage compartement, and a few blankets. Soon the group were huddled around a fire, the light flickering off their faces. A bottle was being passed around. Arabella spoke up.
“Rickard… Derek I mean. He spotted one of the new guards acting odd. He followed him, God knows how, and found a device. He immediately forced us onto a coach. Calvo refused to go. He,” she sniffed, “insisted on trying to disarm it. He was worried about the lives of the servants. None of them knew, Derek didn’t want to cause a panic.” She sniffed again, Irene placing her hand on her back. “I… we got out, thanks to Felix, and then the whole building went up.”
Castor, Cassi resting her head on his shoulder, took a sip from one of the bottles and passed it to Pollux. He swigged, the liquid making a fizzing sound as it went down his throat. Arabella looked at Pollux.
“We’ve been introduced to your friend, or rather, she introduced herself,” she smiled at the girl, “but I haven’t had the pleasure.”
Pollux sat up, “I am Michael Michaelovich Polluchs. Former bartender. Victim of your cousin, so your people say. Your subordinates explained that you were not a part of it. I have chosen to believe them. So does my companion,” he gestured at Cherna, who was sitting cross-legged, staring into the fire with a look of wonder on her face. “I… have spent most of my time in this form killing your cousins’ associates. I am-“
“Please, Jonathan’s twisted nonsense and his cronies are nothing to do with me. As far as I can say, fuck them.” Arabella gestured with her hand, “I hear you helped my bodyguards. Thank you.”
“They returned the favour. Hiji here defended Cherna when I could not. For what it is worth, I owe you a debt.”
The group’s attention turned to Cherna. For a second she kept looking into the fire, absentmindedly, before noticing. She grew red in the face, eliciting a few stifled laughs.
“And what do you do?” Cassi asked softly.
“Me?” she suffled uneasily on the ground, “Cherna isss Micha’s friend. Help.”
“Why?”
“Micha give mee gift. First friend. Cherna… love.”
Irene gave out an ‘aww’, and the girl went beet red.
“But where is she from? How does she… move like that?” asked Fiadh. She took a swig from a brown- coloured bottle and coughed, “Fek that’s good stuff.”
Pollux, looking at Cherna, said: “I don’t know what she is. Some kind of spirit? I’ve passed thinking too hard about it.” The girl looked at him, a mixture of confusion and sadness on her face, “but she’s my friend, and she wants to help.” The girl smiled and fell sideways onto his arm, hugging him around the chest. Pollux put an arm over her shoulder.
“Well. I think I can speak for all of us when I say: magic telaportin’ girls is the least of our concerns at this point.” Said Bart to a few gentle laughs. He was stroking Marie’s hair, her head on his shoulder. “What do we do then?”
“We find Jonathan.” Arabella answered sternly.
“But where?” responded Fiadh, “Fekker could be anywhere.”
Silence.
Hiji broke it, “We could go back to the estates, see if anything leads us anywhere. I have a feeling we’re being used in some way. Maybe the fuckers who are playing with us will leave us clues.”
“Not a fan of the idea of being used, but he might be right,” said Pollux. He opened a box of cigarillos and passed them around. Irene took one. Cherna was drinking from a bottle, before Pollux snatched it out of her hands.
“Hey!” she pouted.
He took a swig. In revenge, she snatched a cigarette from his pocket and lit it quickly. Pollux didn’t stop her, knowing what would happen. She inhaled and began coughing as spluttering. The group laughed.
“Eww.” She threw it into the fire.
She spoke: “I’m sorree about your Papa and friend.”
“Thanks, Cherna,” smiled Castor, raising a bottle, “to Derek and Calvo.”
The group gestured, some crossing themselves, and the bottle made its way around the circle.
“Jeez, strong stuff,” belched Bart.
“I’m going to go to bed,” said Felix. Hiji followed suit, stumbling slightly.
As the night went on, and the bottles drained, the group grew smaller, along with the fire.
Pollux and Castor were left alone with their respective wards, and Ana, sitting in silence, staring at the remains of the fire.
“And baby?” Cherna said suddenly, evidently a little drunk, looking at Castor and the half-asleep Cassi.
“What?” Castor replied. Cassi opened her eyes, yawning. Cherna pointed at Cassi’s midsection.
“What about the baby?”
“Very goo-“ Pollux started drunkenly, before stopping himself.
Castor stared at the girl dumbfounded. Cassi’s eyes widened slightly.
“What do you-“ the girl crawled across to them and put her head against Cassiopea’s stomach. She retracted a moment later, sitting on her knees, and pointed at her midsection again.
“Sorry, Cherna wrong. Babies.” She said firmly.
Ana was staring from across the fire. Castor and Cassi looked at each other.
“Oh, fuck.”
[Thanks for reading.]