Rennin scratches at his head roughly, then presses the opening plate to Caufmann’s office door and walks in. The doctor looks up, “Your appointment was fifteen minutes ago. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to stop meandering out there.”
“Sorry, sir, I just get nervous around handsome, gangly, weird men.”
Caufmann doesn’t react, he just stares at the watchman. “I see. Was she inoculated?”
“No, sir,” Rennin says stepping forwards.
Caufmann’s eyes drop back to his desk reading something. “Carla Spencer, is that her name?”
Rennin’s heart sinks. Well that’s it. “She’s registered on the Embryon Protocol?”
“It clearly shows that her central nervous system is under considerable duress. The antigen won’t work if it’s administered now, you know.”
“Yes I know.”
“I can’t give it to you.”
The last time Rennin felt like this was crawling from a burned house through the ashes of those closest to him.
“I haven’t wanted to save a life in twenty years. I’ve killed people for the military, for Godyssey, and for you. The military said I fought for freedom, Godyssey said for the greater good and by the time you asked me I didn’t know or care because all I can remember is people dying. I’ve never saved anyone I cared about and I’m also unsure if I’ve ever tried since,” his face is pallid. “Please… I want to save her,” he almost chokes out.
Caufmann’s face is unreadable. He’s completely still, which usually means he’s thinking carefully. Rennin makes a shrugging motion and starts finding anywhere else to look but at the doctor.
Caufmann takes a breath, stands up, puts his hand in his pocket and places a vial on the table. “I’m sorry, Ren. I’ll give you this vial but I urge you not to use it. You’ll be taking a life by wasting this.”
It is insane and Rennin knows it, but as he walks home he feels slightly better having the antigen with him even if Carla is incurable now. The vial is more of a security blanket anyway.
He still isn’t sure what he’s going to do with her but he has Killjoy already armed and at the ready. He doesn’t dare to think of shooting her as yet, he’s only choosing to take the gun home. That’s nice and simple. Just taking the gun home and blowing your girlfriend’s head off, he suddenly thinks. He stops in the middle of the street.
“Fuck!” he spits out, halfway to hyperventilating, drawing a bonus few glances from passers by.
Arriving back at his apartment, he cautiously opens the door. All the lights are off. Not a single sound comes from the darkened doorway. He forces his lungs to pull in a full breath so he can listen for any sounds.
Nothing.
Rennin steps inside, closing the door quietly behind him.
His artificial eye can see in the dark far better than his human eye but it’s still not clear enough for his liking. He’s unsure whether or not to turn the light on or draw Killjoy, or both. Apparently the infected all turn hostile sooner or later.
He flips the light on and finds his living area perfectly tidy. In the bedroom he finds the bed made, the bathroom spotless, and no Carla. The only thing out of the ordinary is the bathroom bin. It seems to be full of rubbish that look a like receipts.
Red receipts, not the usual colour for a doctor’s office.
Rennin stoops and picks it up, his face quirking with amused curiosity.
His face drops when he reads it, “Herbal Flu Remedy,” he says as his bowels freeze over.
He realizes that if she takes herbal medicine then she never took Caufmann’s vaccine. Rennin’s mobile is in his hand instantly and he dials Carla’s number. After a few rings, “Hello?” she says.
“Where are you?” he demands a little more aggressively than he meant to.
“I just wanted to be home, I feel awful.”
“Are you there now?”
“Yes, what’s your problem?”
“Listen to me. I’m coming over, just do not open the door to anyone but me.”
“Rennin, I—” she stops for a moment, “You’re starting to scare me.”
“Look, this is not an obsessive thing, you’re infected with a disease and they know where you live.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They’re killing anyone infected to delay the outbreak.”
“That’s insane,” she says with a wet cough.
“I work for them! Just stay there, I have the antidote.”
Silence on the other end.
“I know it sounds like a bad action movie written by a concussed neckbeard, but trust me on this, I work for Doctor Caufmann.”
More silence.
“Please!”
A pause. “Okay.”
“Don’t open the door.”
“I speak English, Rennin.”
He is in his car zooming through the rain and city streets before he’s even had a conscious thought. The odds of the military coming for her are quite high if she’s already on the Embryon registry. Since she lives near the lab itself, it is exponentially more likely that there is an assassination team on the way. They will start the executions in the Centre-city District, following a spiral pattern outwards, moving through the Middle-city and finishing with the Outer-city districts.
Part of Rennin cannot believe how passively the city’s populace are letting this go on. Are they not even the least bit curious as to why the military presence has increased tenfold? Are they really so compliant that they just trust anything Godyssey do? Or are they just glad it’s happening to other people? Sheeple.
He weaves between cars and traffic, speeding through traffic signals that flash-fine him as he passes but his only thoughts are for Carla. God help anyone audacious enough to step in his path.
Rennin slows down a little as he approaches her apartment block. A black armoured car is parked outside, a matte black plate-less vehicle that looks fairly inconspicuous in the dark and rainy night. Someone is already here, possibly for her.
Rennin parks in a disabled zone, raises his hood and steps out of his car, eyes focussed on the military vehicle. His left eye gleams in the darkness.
The streets are crawling with cars and people despite the weather and the virus situation; Rennin appreciates the ability to blend with the masses as he crosses the street, sidling into the entrance of the building.
He takes the stairs two at a time, up to the tenth floor, all leg muscles screaming. Peering down the hallway, Rennin is surprised to see no soldiers at all. He walks towards her door, trying to keep quiet but his left leg makes a distinct thump as he moves. When he arrives at her door, his adrenaline has waned enough for the paranoia to start seeping back in.
If she sees me like this, she’ll think I’m nuts. The last thing he wants is for her to be scared, especially of him, but in this situation she should be terrified. She can be afraid of me, just so long as she’s alright.
Rennin waits a moment and rotates his shoulders, cracks his neck and takes a deep breath. He knows she thinks he’s mad but they’ll be coming for her. He’s poised to knock when he hears a whimper from inside, and Carla’s muffled voice. “Please, don’t.”
“I’m sorry, miss, it’ll be painless,” says a voice Rennin already despises. He draws Killjoy and kicks the door. It shatters, dangling loosely from its lock, swinging open. He is in the room before the door has had time to settle back towards its damaged frame.
Inside the room, Rennin sees a Beta HolinMech soldier, his sidearm aimed at Carla’s head.
Rennin’s gun hand trembles as he tries to suppress the blinding fit of burning rage devouring everything within him. “Who the fuck are you?” he spits at the soldier.