2023-09-03: License to Kill

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  • Log: 2023-09-03: License to Kill
  • Cast: Gamia NX-1, Gamia NX-2
  • Where: Nagoya
  • Date: U.C. 0097 09 03
  • Summary: Gamia NX-2 receives her orders.


JAPAN - GUTS DECUFES FESTIVAL

Night, September 2

Near the end of the festival, Cascade received a text message.

She'd pulled her phone out and looked at it. Spam that had somehow gotten past her filters - a random advertisement for sketchy herbal supplements that she didn't need. Even if she wasn't a machine they would do nothing for her except probably taste bad.

Cascade had never understood why anyone would buy anything advertised this way. Maybe they actually tasted good? She was pretty sure guarana was used for flavouring, and fennel certainly was. Or it was the 'allure of the forbidden', a term she'd come across recently... or maybe they were just desperate for it to work. Regardless of her beliefs about unsolicited spam mail pharmaceuticals, she deleted it, put her phone away, and moved on with her life. Or that's what it looked like to anyone who might be watching, anyway. She doesn't even think those who knew her best would have spotted anything wrong.

The contents of the message were irrelevant, and nobody was trying to sell her anything (well, nobody was trying to sell her anything this way, anyway). It was the garbage text at the end of the subject line that had meant something to Cascade. It was a code, and she'd memorized it. With so few characters it couldn't say much, but the grouped characters had given her a time, a place, and a signature.

Tomorrow, 3pm - in Nagoya.

She'd tried to ignore the lingering discomfort for the rest of the night. She'd bought everybody takoyaki. She'd taken group pictures, and watched the fireworks. She'd been, probably, a little sentimental, maybe even melancholy - but it was, after all, the end of Deculture Festival. But she was still nervous the whole night, even once she returned to her room. They never called her for an in-person meeting like this for anything good. And NX-1 had never done so. Baron Ashura, occasionally. Dr. Hell, once. But NX-1 didn't care about her. Why would she be requesting a meeting if it was anything Cascade wanted to hear?

Cascade didn't really sleep, precisely. Her body went into automatic and acted like she was asleep, and her mind went into a different mode - she didn't know what to call it; it was sorting through the events of the day, but she was still mildly aware while her mind wandered. She could consciously pull herself out of it and 'wake up' at any time, it only took an hour or so in any case, and she didn't really need to do it every day, even though she usually did.

But tonight she was having trouble staying fully 'out' even if she wanted to. Too much thinking kept her mind active long into the night. It's normal, she told herself. She didn't really need to go into subconscious mode every day, even though she'd never really had a problem with it.

Cascade had never been dreading a meeting quite like this before.


AREA 11 - BRITANNIAN NAGOYA

Afternoon, September 3

As cover, Cascade had gone shopping.

It was an excuse to get out on a Sunday as much as anything else. And, to be completely honest, she'd needed to anyway. While she sometimes went out from Ashford with other students, she'd just gone by herself today, picking up a collection of things she needed and a few things she wanted. And then, when she was done, she'd made a call indicating she could be picked up from a parking lot.

At three o'clock on the dot, the same car in Britannian plates that had picked her up from Fujinomiya's convention hall pulled up smoothly, and Cascade slid in the back, along with her bags. She wasn't the only person in the back seat, again: "Hello, One," Gamia NX-2 says, setting her bags down and then resting one arm on them in the hope that Gamia NX-1 didn't decide to rummage. In that she was disappointed; NX-1 immediately reached out, completely uncaring of any rudeness or social awkwardness, reached inside, and pulled up -

"Clothes?" NX-1 asked NX-2, with a hint of distaste in her voice, as she held up, of all things, a pack of socks.

"Whatever your opinion of clothes, I am obligated to wear them at almost all times because of my position," NX-2 said. She didn't bother adding 'also, I enjoy shopping for clothes' because she knew NX-1 would neither understand or care; she was pretty sure that every single outfit NX-1 owned was identical, disregarding the cloak they all had. "Also, I am a woman one hundred seventy-seven centimeters tall in Nagoya. Not every shop has much selection in a size I can wear on hand, so I travel to find them. It is a good cover - for instance, for meeting you. Today."

NX-1 either failed to notice or ignored the slight expression of irritation in NX-2's voice. She was continuing to hunt around, pulling out some other pieces of fabric and tossing them carelessly on the seat. Cascade hastily put them in the other bag while NX-1 shifted a skirt and uncovered - "A cookbook?"

"Real books are typical in the kitchen," NX-2 said, more defensively, "because they do not have electronic parts. And I am attempting to learn how to cook."

NX-1's scowl deepened. "Foolishness. Also, irrelevant. You will not need your position much longer."

"...Pardon?" NX-2 froze, halfway through repacking the skirt. She wasn't worried. This wasn't panic. But she could feel a thrum in her body that she wasn't accustomed to outside of combat. It was like her body wanted to fight.

"Your failure has gone on long enough. There has been a request, from associates of Dr. Hell." NX-1's body language was very difficult to read; while her face showed expressions, sometimes, her body was very still when she wanted it to be. NX-2 was actually not very good at reading it - partially because she tried to avoid NX-1 whenever possible, and partially because all her sisters (and her) were good at masking their feelings - but she was getting the impression of... satisfaction. "Since you have been unable to determine the identities of Mafty or Zero, they have been unable to handle them in the manner they would prefer. They are - a loose end, for these allies, and it is your fault." NX-1 finally did move - she leaned in toward NX-2. "So you will remove them. The Black Knights will have new leaders - ones that can be controlled. Dr. Hell has agreed to support them in this. You are filling that role."

"Explain my role," NX-2 says, feeling that thrum of definitely-not-adrenaline again. Her thoughts were everywhere. She reached, mentally, for the Gamia mask; the attitude she adopted in front of the others, the only way they would listen to her. It refused to come, until it did, all at once. Her mind steadied as she put Cascade aside, forcefully ignoring the part of her mind that refused to become quiet; it felt almost like ignoring someone else in the room. Which was wrong. It had never felt that bad before.

"You will kill Zero and Mafty. It is what you are made for, not - " NX-1 shoved the bag, which only stayed up because NX-2 had her hands in it at the time. "Not this. Not 'cooking'." Her voice had scorn in it. "You have been allowed liberties neither myself or NX-3 have, and it ends now. I have other tasks, more important to Dr. Hell, and will not be part of this operation. But NX-3 is. And because unlike you, *she* has succeeded in her original tasks, she will be in charge."

NX-2 said nothing for a few moments, thinking through the problem. Then: "This is not something I can perform immediately. They will know something is different if I rush it through. And I am closer to Zero, not Mafty."

NX-1 did not smile. "That really is not my problem. Perhaps you should have insinuated yourself more widely instead of spending time on this." She tapped the bag again. "If you fail again, there will be consequences. And there is a deadline: two weeks. You have two weeks to kill Zero and Mafty. NX-3 will be in contact with you - "

"In ten days," NX-2 interjected, hastily.

"No. And do not interrupt. She is in charge of you, and I am in charge of her; you are in charge of nobody. She will be in contact when she chooses to be." NX-1, for the first time this afternoon, smiled. "I look forward to your success. Or not. Perhaps Baron Ashura will appreciate those of us who are competent instead of coddling the failures."

The car, driven once again by an Iron Mask trooper, brought the car to a smooth stop. They were about a twenty minute walk from Ashford Academy. NX-2 supposed that meant something, that they hadn't even bothered to bring her 'family's car to the gates. Without another word, Gamia NX-2 slid out of the car, pulling her bags with her. She tried to casually slam the door behind her, but the construction of the car slowed it, and it merely clicked firmly into place.

NX-2 started to walk, head down. She looked miserable. She felt miserable. She reached for the Cascade mask, lifting her head, her expression returning to smiles. But it was fake, all fake, and she knew it; it had been driven in like a knife. The mask didn't really fit anymore; she'd just have to puppet it for two weeks. It wasn't her. It couldn't be her.

Because when it was her, when she let herself be Cascade, they thought she was a failure.

Because a robot who was a failure is useless.

Because useless things have no purpose, and things without a purpose don't need to exist.

Baron Ashura had told her personally, almost a year ago: life is a competition. And NX-2 was losing it. Instead of striving for success, she'd gone and spent time at Ashford Academy. She'd been having fun, and now she hated herself for wasting her time. The black comedy of a student wishing they had spent more time on work when they came back to school after a long summer, when the work was to no longer be a student, was not lost on her.

but it wasn't a waste, was it, for Cascade

If she failed, again - would NX-3 and NX-1 be coming for her, next?