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ScoutWhy on Earth am I so nervous?
Theresa straightened out the hem of her midnight-blue SFROTC uniform. She’d gone straight from class to the tech support center when they told her Ms. Ramana’s new phone was ready, and from there, straight here. She hadn’t even gone home to change.
Theresa didn’t exactly have Lott Ramana’s permission to copy her data onto a new device. A uniform, a sense of urgency, an ID card, and a lott of name-dropping had convinced the shop to replace her boss’s precious smartphone, but what if they called Ms. Ramana to confirm who Theresa was? Would she be mad at her for using her name for authority? Perhaps this surprise wasn’t a good idea after all. She should have just told Ms. Ramana what she was doing. And what if Ms. Ramana already got a new phone? Would someone as important as her really not have a backup device…?
Well, too late now.. I guess I should just present her new phone to her and hope I don’t get fired. She clutched the AetherTech Model X AR-assisted smartphone to her chest like it was a precious jewel.
The bright orange light from the setting sun reflected off the glass-and-metal front of the building, and Theresa raised her hand to shade her eyes. Above the glaring glass, neon lights crackled to life with a distinct hum, blazing letters into the dimming sky.
Inside the establishment, Lott was staring at the rows of colorful donuts tucked safely behind a glass counter. When she had arrived the publicist had ordered a vodka tonic and soon found herself as confused as the young man behind the counter in the paper hat when he told her they weren’t a bar. She’d assumed Theresa had invited her out to a cutely named hip college bar full of bright faced young people who had yet to realize that they’d already peaked and not an actual donut shop that was modeled like an old school diner as long as you ignored the automatons running production. Lott was locked in a state of analysis paralysis. The donuts were swirling together like the paint on an artist's palette and becoming a muddied brown, and so that was the one she bought.
Moments later, Lott was sitting in a plastic booth with a styrofoam cup of black coffee and her eyes looking down at a plain, unglazed donut. So many of the other donuts were coated with sprinkles and glazes or filled with jelly and custard, but this one was just fried, somewhat burnt cakebread with an empty hole full of nothing inside of it. Lott had never felt a closer connection to something in her entire life. Other donuts sat on plates across from her for those who had yet to arrive, out of reach like distant strangers. Only the plain donut stayed by her side. She couldn’t eat such a good companion. Although after the day before and the day to come, she couldn’t eat anything anyway.
It was thoughts of Olex, not the debate or the bloodshed, that kept her stomach in a knot. The debate had all but been forgotten, something she was aware existed but unaware of why it mattered to her, like the ozone layer or a grandparent living in a nursing home. The bloodshed should’ve been the highlight of her life, being so close to real danger while never actually being in any danger of her own thanks to the sacrifice of a few brave, forgettable guards and to APEX for having bigger, better guns. All she could see was Olex. Their encounter kept replaying in her head, cutting right at the point where neither one of them would budge, confirming the fear in her mind. If she’d won their pissing contest she wouldn’t have deleted the footage. She was watching it for the millionth time that day, donut held up so it appeared as if Lott was discovering the mysteries of the universe by staring emptily through the hole, when someone approached her booth. There was no acknowledgement as Lott tore the donut in two and dropped one half in her coffee, leaving it to dissolve.
Theresa maintained a respectful distance as she waited for her boss to acknowledge her. The woman was clearly lost in thought, and she knew better than to interrupt.
Perhaps it had been foolish to invite her out for donuts. Surely someone so important had a lot of work to be doing at such a critical time. Right?
She shifted from one foot to the other and back, swaying lightly out of nerves and contenting herself to watch Lott Ramana’s brilliant mind at work, no doubt formulating precise answers to thorny, loaded questions at tonight’s debate. A single word out of place, a single thought in haste or in excess of the facts, could spell disaster for a political campaign. She must be under enormous pressure.
After several quiet minutes, she stepped aside to quietly place an order. She selected a couple specialty donuts for herself - key-lime-coconut and cookies-and-cream. Two donuts was a lot of calories, but, what the hell, she’d had PT all morning. After tapping in her selections her hand stopped over the glowing touchscreen menu. What would Lott like? She should at least order a good one for her boss, too.
Chocolate was a safe choice, right? But then, safe wasn’t terribly sophisticated. Getting two specialty pretzels for herself and then a plain, everyman choice for her boss wasn’t exactly a great look. No, this is a chance to impress her with a great suggestion. Think, cadet!
Before…
Glory flipped a strand of hair out of her face. She wasn’t used to having hair this long. She would’ve liked to just brush it away, but she was advised to avoid placing her hands near her face for at least a week while her body adjusted to the changes. Adjusting her posture a bit, Glory winched slightly as the new augments tugged slightly against the reinforcing braces installed throughout her torso to keep her arms from ripping her body apart. Even with rapid healing tech, things were still a little sore from an operation so invasive.
Fighting the instinct to swing her arms as she walked, Glory blinked a few times as her vision blurred. She almost rubbed her eyes, but then remembered the warning about keeping her hands away from her face and settled with blinking a few more times. She was flanked by people who she didn’t know, but did recognize. Their uniforms were of APEX issue, but why they were escorting her somewhere remained unknown. Out in the parking lot, an armored car was waiting. One of them pulled the door open for her before issuing a stern command to get in.
With no choice but compliance, Glory ducked inside…
Now…
The armored car pulled up outside of a donut shop. If it had been any other occasion she would’ve hopped out immediately, but she was told to sit still for the time being. After a few moments, the door opened again. Did they not trust her to open her own doors? Probably not, once Glory considered the specifications that she’d seen briefly. Shuffling out of the car, Glory was told to follow one of the APEX team members inside for the planned meeting.
Feeling just a little bit of embarrassment and humiliation at the fact that she was going into a meeting wearing only a tube top, combat cargo pants, a tied jacket belt, and some thick combat boots, Glory followed the APEX team member inside. Once there she was pointed towards a booth where someone she thought she’d never see again sat.
Taking a step forward, Glory paused for a moment before looking over her shoulder and speaking. Her voice was a bit hoarse, but she got the message across fairly well. ”While we’re here. I want some donuts. Grab me a variety box, please. I’ll pay later.” With that, she walked over and sat down. Bringing her arms up was slightly mortifying. They didn’t feel like they moved so much as they teleported now. Bringing them to rest gently on her edge of the table, Glory had to adjust them a little once the table started to creak. With that finished, she said a name didn’t expect to say ever again. ”Hello, Lott.”
Lott’s eyes refocused as she stopped reviewing the tapes. Her lips disappeared into her mouth as she stared at the stranger sitting across from her. There was a moment of worry— either Theresa had changed drastically in the past couple of days or Lott needed to ask Dr. Howland to up her medication. A facial scan recognized the woman as hired security from the Swathe Street Incident, but Lott’s face only untensed after the scan picked up Glory’s face again with it attached to a series of emails.
“Welcome, Glory, I’ve been expecting you,” said Lott, lying. “Everyone else, out.”
This had been a planned meeting. A planned, confidential meeting in a public place where she was supposed to grab a snack with her intern. Lott turned and looked over her shoulder at the APEX goons that had infiltrated after the scout. They were crawling around the donut shop, clearing the booths and the bathrooms of any clients or corporate spies. The donutender was roughly grabbed by the shoulder and escorted out the front door, a variety box in his hands. The goons reached to lay hands on a sharp, young intern but were stopped by a sharp whistle from Lott. Surely, if Lott had planned for APEX to release Glory here, she had also planned for Theresa to join her for the meeting. A learning opportunity, right? Theresa was smart enough to come up with a lesson.
“She stays, as do the donuts,” said Lott, summoning her intern and Glory’s donut order over to the table with the snap of her finger. She slid over to allow for Theresa to take the seat next to her and waited for the APEX crew to lockdown the donut shop. She pulled her tablet up close to her chest and began scanning for the appropriate document. It was only when Lott was certain that the three women were left alone that she spoke again, her attention still affixed to the tablet. “So, do either of you know why we’re here?”
Theresa stared for a moment, stunned by the rapid goon-squad takeover of the peaceful donut diner. One minute she was contemplating a bite of tropical paradise, the next she was sitting across from an impressive woman in a tube top, whose massive arms appeared ready to snap the art-deco table like a twig. What on earth had just happened?
”Um,”, she started, tossing the nonsense syllable out like bait in the water. She watched carefully to see if any sharks snapped at it first. ”I just came to- I mean- I-I don’t know about her. Um, you look familiar. Have we met…?”
Things happened too fast for Theresa to follow. Miss Ramana seemed to be in control, or at least, she didn’t seem surprised by this turn of events. Of course, she would make it a working outing, wouldn’t she? But then - why was she asking why we were here…? She knew better than to question her boss on anything in public, so her eyes searched the larger woman’s almost desperately, seeking an answer written somewhere on her impressive facade.
Glory blinked as Theresa essentially materialized next to Lott as the APEX goons locked the building down. She recognized her vaguely from somewhere before. The incident at the Swathe Street Commons. Turning her head briefly to get a better look at her, Glory scowled slightly as a lock of her longer hair fell into her face. Tossing her head a bit to get it out of the way, she blinked again as she admitted that Glory seemed familiar. Still a bit hoarse, Glory spoke up again to clarify. ”Swathe Street Commons. I was on duty. My hair wasn’t this long and my arms weren’t so big.”
With a basic explanation given Glory turned to look at Lott once more. As previously this motion caused a lock of hair to fall into her face, which Glory had to toss out of the way once more. Speaking up again, Glory took a guess at the answer to Lott’s question. ”As for why we are here, I assume that it potentially has something to do with these-” Glory would take a moment to nod downward at her new arms before resuming. ”And the fact that I am still alive. The fact that I was brought to you leads me to guess that you had a hand in it?”
As Glory finished speaking, it became notable that she was opening and closing her right hand gently. To Glory, this simple motion felt weird. Too instant, too smooth. Not even the occasional knuckle crack. Just powerful synthligaments pushing and pulling heavily armored fingers backwards and forwards. It was all she could do to try and practice for the moment while she waited for an answer.
Theresa watched Glory toss her hair aside, distracted by the long, nut-brown locks as they waved past her. “Oh…” was all she got out, before reminding herself not to speak out-of-turn and interrupt her boss.
“Although I am currently a representative of the company, I do not hold the authority to outfit security officers with a prototype series of cybernetics such as the XL-001. You are alive because your company thought you were an asset, and my company thought they were an asset,” said Lott, having taken the time to find the relevant doc for this meeting and skim through the information. She finally looked up from her tablet and turned towards Theresa, “Make note of this situation: Ms. Batalia would not be alive today if she wasn’t such a hard worker.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“You are meeting with me because legally we are required to provide proof that you have consented to the terms and conditions regarding your cybernetics. I, Lott Ramana, hereby to be referred to as Party B, will inform Amelia Batalia, also known by her callsign Glory, hereby referred to as Party A, of what is to be expected of her now that her outfit Knight Enterprise, henceforth to be called Company B, has become a partial subsidiary of APEX Industries, which shall be called Company A. We are witnessed today by my intern, Theresa—Intern A—who will act as an independent company, let’s say Company C, to verify that Party A was informed by Party B about the deal Company B made with Company A on the behalf of Party A, and that none of this was coaxed out under any duress, and that all parties, that being Party A and Company C, are aware that this will be recorded by Party B, who shall turn this recording over to Company A and B to serve as proof of compliance.”
“Are we clear so far?” asked Lott.
Glory’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of her actual name. Not a whole lot of people called her that, and those that did were in positions where they usually just called her Glory anyway. To hear it so suddenly was alien and unsettling. However, it did prompt Glory to snap out of her mild haze and focus carefully upon what was being said. As Lott descended seamlessly into full legal speak Glory mentally groaned. Now everything was going to be much more complicated.
Blinking a few times as Lott ran through a string of legal requirements as efficiently as a machine, Glory paused in replying audibly at the question for a few moments in order to give her still-somewhat-on-painkillers brain a few moments to process what all was being said. After a few moments of this pondering Glory posed a question that she deemed important. ”And what, exactly, are the terms and conditions?”
“Due to a transfer in who is now the major shareholder of Company B, Party A shall now exclusively offer her services to Company A. In return, Company A will allow Party A to continue to exercise their user rights of the XL-001 prototype. Failure to uphold her duty to the expectations of Company A, which is vaguely undefined, will be considered a violation of these terms of service and result in the termination of user access to any of their APEX products,” said Lott, staring through Glory as if she was reading a teleprompter behind her.
Lott turned to Theresa. As the girl’s steward, it was her duty to properly make sure that the intern was absorbing the information. People misconstrued stories about corporations and the uneducated working class all the time, often taking what is truly charity and calling it something more sinister like exploitation. Glory wasn’t being taken advantage of but rather being given the chance to take advantage of the opportunity of a lifetime. The choice had already been made for her anyway.
Lott explained, “See, Theresa, Ms. Batalia was fatally injured in the line of duty. For reasons unclear to me, her direct supervisor Mr. Salt thought it would be a better idea to invest in restoring Ms. Batalia to fighting conditions rather than training a new security officer and decided to pay for those new guns.”
For clarification, Lott fired off a finger gun twice at each one of Glory’s new arms. She didn’t want her intern to get confused. She blew away the invisible smoke and holstered the deadly weapon.
“To afford payment, Salt sold a majority share of Knight Enterprise to APEX. Considering the excessive bloat in private security companies over the past few years, it’s actually quite impressive that it could cover the cost of Ms. Batalia’s operation. Although still technically a private security outfit, all contracts will have to be approved by an APEX representative. As well, APEX now reserves the right to pull any Knight, such as they’re going to do with Ms. Batalia, to bolster their own security forces when it is deemed necessary. Really, Ms. Batalia is quite fortunate. Don’t you agree, Theresa?”
Theresa bit back a question, resolving to inquire later when alone with her boss. There was no sense in questioning her boss in public. Instead she turned to the security officer, nodding and giving her a confident smile. “You must be proud to bear such advanced technology, Ms. Batalia, or may I call you Amelia?” She looked up and down one of the technological protrusions. “Um, they look good on you.”
As Lott went on to explain the terms and conditions that she had been bound to, Glory only had one thought come to mind: ”So basically, I’m at APEX’s beck and call or else I have to adapt to life without arms. That’s… Something, alright.” Once Lott turned to her assistant to bounce how grand of an opportunity this was off of them, Glory’s head turned slightly to watch as they nodded along happily with what Lott had gone over thus far. Blinking once more as Theresa asked if she could call her Amelia, Glory gave a blunt answer. ”Eh… Glory will do fine, and… Thanks.”
The complement was somewhat lost on Glory’s addled mind, but she somewhat felt that Theresa was hitting on her? At least that’s how it started to come across. Maybe that would come up later. For now Glory looked back to Lott and cleared her throat a bit before speaking up. It didn’t help with how hoarse her voice was. ”Alright… I can’t let Salt make a sacrifice like that without making it worth it. Where do I sign?”
Lott flipped her tablet around. Glory’s legal name was already typed into the document. All the Knight had to do was check the box that confirmed she was willing to bypass an actual signature in favor of a digital one. Lott believed it was a secure enough method; someone else checking the box would’ve been committing a form of identity theft and could be prosecuted. She set the tablet down on the table and slid it over towards Glory, but Lott didn’t withdraw her hand. The other woman had a history of taking Lott’s personal devices. She’d be a wreck if she lost another.
“Once you have given your consent, Party A’s duty to Company A begins effective immediately,” said Lott. “You as well as other Knights will be expected to bolster the security detail during the debate.”
Looking down at the tablet, Glory took a few moments to breathe and blink at it. At first she tried to read over the document a bit to skim some of the important parts, but even this simple effort was rough on her still foggy mind. Just how strong had the painkillers she’d been given been? Hopefully the fog passed sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, now came time for a bit of a test. Glory began to carefully move her arms, and one could see her face harden in concentration as she struggled with the sensation of her arms seemingly teleporting rather than moving. This was probably not going to go well.
Even what felt like subtle movements still produced significant results. Slowly, Glory managed to bring her finger down on the checkbox. It flicked green, signaling that consent had been given… Then the screen cracked. A web of cracks formed above where Glory had pressed with as little pressure as she could. Immediately, Glroy’s face flushed red with embarrassment. This embarrassment quickly turned into shame and some light self loathing as Glory fully registered what had happened. Growling in frustration slightly, Glory popped off an apology promptly. ”Sorry… Not used to moving these. Every motion feels like my arm teleports rather than moves…”
Lott’s pupils narrowed until they practically disappeared, her irises pale blue screens of death. She did not blink as she stared through Glory. Visions of hand signals, shattered glass, pink mist, and traumatized interns flashed rapidly through her mind like a grotesque flipbook drawn by a desensitized middle schooler in the margins of a classic piece of literature. The band around Lott’s wrist faintly beeped as a mild sedative was injected to lower her rising heart rate. She finally blinked, her vision cleared, and she pulled the tablet back towards her chest, holding it dearly like it were a mortally wounded comrade.
Theresa’s shoulders tensed at the craaaack! of breaking glass, and her heart sank at the sight of a rupture spreading across the screen like a digital spiderweb. They were already down one device…and now this? Well, at least she was already familiar at the mobile-electronics shop… Theresa bit back an interjection, just giving her boss a supportive nod. I should offer something useful here. Think, Theresa!
“It is not a problem, Ms. Batalia. I have an extended warranty,” said Lott, knowing full well the warranty had expired months ago. She sounded out of breath. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the damage done to the screen. No offer for reimbursement? This was the kind of offense that sparked blood feuds that lasted for generations.
“Hardly noticeable,” said Lott with a choke, her words masking the sound of the screen cracking further underneath her tightening grip. Her eyes motioned towards the exit. “You will understand that I mean no offense if I do not end this meeting with a handshake.”
Glory frowned as Lott began to choke up. Blinking a few times in awkward silence as Lott began to grip the tablet firmly. In a moment of clarity she recalled that something had been managed in the time that had passed since something had been taken from Lott. Speaking up, Glory began to explain something. ”Up until now I would’ve considered this classified, but since Knight Enterprise has been acquired, this is technically knowable to the people involved here as far as I’m aware… If you go up to Knight’s HQ, ask about case number 10164. Tell them that Glory sent you, and tell them that you’ve got authorization code 70216 to retrieve object 734. Your phone was repaired, examined, and found to be irrelevant to the case. You can get it back at any time."
Theresa took a moment to appreciate her boss’s poise. The woman was clearly upset. Did her voice crack there at the end? And yet, she remained cool and professional - even cracking a small joke to lighten the tension! She was a true professional. Theresa waited for a lull in the conversation before speaking up. ”Perhaps the implants have nervous-interface settings that can be adjusted?” she said. ”They could be overreacting to your natural impulses and simply need calibration, as it were. After all, they are only prototypes, so I’m sure they are expecting them to need some fine-tuning.”
Did cybernetics actually work that way? It probably didn’t matter. The important thing was to be helpful. How the implants worked was for the engineers to worry about. At least that sounded smart. To Lott she added, ”Glory should probably get some rest if she’s working tonight, but also, she should probably get some practice in if she’s to interface with the public. I’m sure any accidents would reflect poorly on Mayor Gatch? I could probably find some, umm, mannequins or dummies or something.”
At the mention of the cybernetics not being calibrated, Glory shrugged. The motion felt awkward and Glory felt the supports that had been implanted into her shoulders twinge in pain. This was expressed with a slight grimace of pain before Glory spoke again. ”I’d very much appreciate a fat nap right about now. Along with probably another dose of anti-inflams to help with the healing… And then some time to practice with these things so I’m not casually destroying everything I try to touch. In the meantime, I’d like to power down that box of doughnuts as a comfort pick-me-up. Though I’m gonna have to enjoy the fun that is possibly destroying them when I try to pinch them, so…”
Resistant to the idea of shrugging again, Glory opted for a less-painful head-tilt-shrug.
The rest of Glory's reply clicked all at once. The phone! Theresa had assumed the device was hopelessly buried under red tape. Stupid! Of course the personal device of someone so important would be handled with extra urgency!
"M-Miss Ramana has already procured a replacement," she blurted out, thrusting the precious device into view with what she hoped appeared to be a dramatic flourish instead of a panic move.
Lott stared blankly at the smartphone. The news that Lott could receive her old phone had slightly dulled the pain in her heart over the mortal injury dealt to her second favorite device, although Glory referring to her phone as irrelevant was like spit in the eyes. The phone was proof enough that a warning was never the proper course of action for a security officer. Perhaps if Glory had registered that lesson then she wouldn’t be struggling to avoid turning her donut into a pancake now.
All of that was now irrelevant thanks to the device Theresa had flicked out like a switchblade knife. Lott attempted to recall when she had acquired the new phone. Nothing pinged in her search history; had she erased the VOD for the memory file? It seemed uncharacteristic. She would have certainly created a backup just to have a quick reference point to what was and was not covered in the extended warranty. Lott gingerly plucked the phone from Theresa’s hand. It opened to her biometrics. She saw a stack of notifications for missed calls from saved contacts and the default wallpaper of a black background with a gray squiggle. It was her phone all right, but how? Another blackout purchase? Normally those things weren’t so conventional.
She wrinkled her eyebrows and sideyed Theresa. It was a gift? Impossible. Lott looked away. She felt lightheaded. It was a gift. She wouldn’t have splurged on such a new model. She set the shattered tablet down next to her on the bench because she no longer had the strength to hold it. She safely put the phone down in front of her, fearful that touching it again would transform it into a spider because clearly she was dreaming. Her chest tightened. Of course she wasn’t dreaming, her last one was killed years ago.
Theresa had gone out of her way to buy her a phone and set it up with her profile. This intern—her intern! Without a doubt it was the nicest, most considerate thing someone had ever done for Lott in her entire life. It was absolutely exhilarating. She felt the pinprick hit her wrist again as another mild sedative entered her bloodstream. Normally she would have to force a double dosage just to keep herself functioning so coolly. She worked up the courage to grab the phone and slipped it inside of her jacket where it rested right against her heart.
Words lacked the complexity to express the feelings Lott held. They just wouldn’t be enough. She turned towards Theresa, made eye contact, and nodded once in approval. Lott was thankful she was sitting down. Her legs felt like they had been removed for defaulting on a loan. She turned towards Glory, corrected her shaky disposition with a sniff, and said with a nod towards the door, “Then unless there is anything else?”
Glory blinked a few times as Theresa thrust the new phone forward. That certainly made things a little awkward, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. As the question was posed, she paused for a moment before giving a simple reply. ”No. I don’t think so. Which means…”
With a bit of shuffling, Glory stood up. Now that she was free of the table she was able to let her arms rest a bit, and as she gently lowered them to her sides the enhanced length of them became obvious for all to see when Glory would touch her knees without issue. Shuddering slightly as she tried to get used to how moving felt, Glory glanced down at the box of donuts and posed an awkward question. ”Uh… Someone grab that for me, please? I’m kinda… Not confident in my ability to not destroy something like cardboard.”
"Oh!" In a flash, the uniformed intern stood next to the table, box in hand. Multicolored icing glistened under the fluorescent lights as Theresa slid the plastic cover over the box’s immeasurably precious cargo. "Allow me."
Lott muttered something underneath her breath and stared at the empty booth across from her. She buried the feeling of guilt brought on by wanting to have seen the box of donuts crushed like the other day’s rioters, red jelly sticking to superior cybernetics, and swept the crumbs from her own destroyed donut underneath the napkin dispenser. She waited patiently as her intern assisted Glory with the transportation of the treats. It was only when they got to the door that Lott slid down to the end of her booth and poked her head out, her eyes as glazed over as Glory’s donuts.
“One moment, Ms. Batalia,” said Lott. She stood up from the booth with her hands in her pockets and did not approach as she looked past Glory to the APEX goon guarding the door. Lott stepped to the side so that Glory blocked him from her field of view. “Coming from both the data we have collected as well as my own personal eye witness experience regarding your performance in the field I believe it would be irresponsible if I allow you to leave without saying this. Note that this conversation is off the record and any future reference to it will be marked as slander and stain your fresh company record. Still, I believe it is my duty to see that you are properly informed.”
“APEX doesn’t do warnings,” said Lott as she stared unflinchingly at Glory. She pulled a hand from her pocket and beckoned; a moment later the bell chimed as the goon opened the door for Glory. Lott turned back to the booth but then shot Glory a look over her padded suit shoulders, the neon glow of her earrings giving her skin a sickly pallor. “Welcome to the team.”
Glory paused as Lott spoke up again. Listening closely as it was explained that APEX doesn’t do warnings and that this conversation was classified. With a nod, Glory spoke up. ”Understood. And, if I might request… Please, call me Glory. I am far more used to it.”
With that, she turned to leave once more.
"Then we’ll see you in a few hours at the debate…Glory," Theresa said with a smile as she opened the door. The cool evening air rushed through the open doorway, carrying with it the scent of springtime rain and urban smog. "It’s a pity you can’t stick around, though; this donut shop actually has excellent karaoke nights.” She winked.”Sort of a campus secret."
Glory paused again as Theresa lamented that she couldn’t hang out. Glancing back briefly, she offered an understandable excuse. ”Would if I could, but when these meds wear off I’d rather be at home. Maybe some other time.” And with nothing else to say, Glory left for home.
Theresa straightened out the hem of her midnight-blue SFROTC uniform. She’d gone straight from class to the tech support center when they told her Ms. Ramana’s new phone was ready, and from there, straight here. She hadn’t even gone home to change.
Theresa didn’t exactly have Lott Ramana’s permission to copy her data onto a new device. A uniform, a sense of urgency, an ID card, and a lott of name-dropping had convinced the shop to replace her boss’s precious smartphone, but what if they called Ms. Ramana to confirm who Theresa was? Would she be mad at her for using her name for authority? Perhaps this surprise wasn’t a good idea after all. She should have just told Ms. Ramana what she was doing. And what if Ms. Ramana already got a new phone? Would someone as important as her really not have a backup device…?
Well, too late now.. I guess I should just present her new phone to her and hope I don’t get fired. She clutched the AetherTech Model X AR-assisted smartphone to her chest like it was a precious jewel.
The bright orange light from the setting sun reflected off the glass-and-metal front of the building, and Theresa raised her hand to shade her eyes. Above the glaring glass, neon lights crackled to life with a distinct hum, blazing letters into the dimming sky.
D O N U T S
Inside the establishment, Lott was staring at the rows of colorful donuts tucked safely behind a glass counter. When she had arrived the publicist had ordered a vodka tonic and soon found herself as confused as the young man behind the counter in the paper hat when he told her they weren’t a bar. She’d assumed Theresa had invited her out to a cutely named hip college bar full of bright faced young people who had yet to realize that they’d already peaked and not an actual donut shop that was modeled like an old school diner as long as you ignored the automatons running production. Lott was locked in a state of analysis paralysis. The donuts were swirling together like the paint on an artist's palette and becoming a muddied brown, and so that was the one she bought.
Moments later, Lott was sitting in a plastic booth with a styrofoam cup of black coffee and her eyes looking down at a plain, unglazed donut. So many of the other donuts were coated with sprinkles and glazes or filled with jelly and custard, but this one was just fried, somewhat burnt cakebread with an empty hole full of nothing inside of it. Lott had never felt a closer connection to something in her entire life. Other donuts sat on plates across from her for those who had yet to arrive, out of reach like distant strangers. Only the plain donut stayed by her side. She couldn’t eat such a good companion. Although after the day before and the day to come, she couldn’t eat anything anyway.
It was thoughts of Olex, not the debate or the bloodshed, that kept her stomach in a knot. The debate had all but been forgotten, something she was aware existed but unaware of why it mattered to her, like the ozone layer or a grandparent living in a nursing home. The bloodshed should’ve been the highlight of her life, being so close to real danger while never actually being in any danger of her own thanks to the sacrifice of a few brave, forgettable guards and to APEX for having bigger, better guns. All she could see was Olex. Their encounter kept replaying in her head, cutting right at the point where neither one of them would budge, confirming the fear in her mind. If she’d won their pissing contest she wouldn’t have deleted the footage. She was watching it for the millionth time that day, donut held up so it appeared as if Lott was discovering the mysteries of the universe by staring emptily through the hole, when someone approached her booth. There was no acknowledgement as Lott tore the donut in two and dropped one half in her coffee, leaving it to dissolve.
Theresa maintained a respectful distance as she waited for her boss to acknowledge her. The woman was clearly lost in thought, and she knew better than to interrupt.
Perhaps it had been foolish to invite her out for donuts. Surely someone so important had a lot of work to be doing at such a critical time. Right?
She shifted from one foot to the other and back, swaying lightly out of nerves and contenting herself to watch Lott Ramana’s brilliant mind at work, no doubt formulating precise answers to thorny, loaded questions at tonight’s debate. A single word out of place, a single thought in haste or in excess of the facts, could spell disaster for a political campaign. She must be under enormous pressure.
After several quiet minutes, she stepped aside to quietly place an order. She selected a couple specialty donuts for herself - key-lime-coconut and cookies-and-cream. Two donuts was a lot of calories, but, what the hell, she’d had PT all morning. After tapping in her selections her hand stopped over the glowing touchscreen menu. What would Lott like? She should at least order a good one for her boss, too.
Chocolate was a safe choice, right? But then, safe wasn’t terribly sophisticated. Getting two specialty pretzels for herself and then a plain, everyman choice for her boss wasn’t exactly a great look. No, this is a chance to impress her with a great suggestion. Think, cadet!
Before…
Glory flipped a strand of hair out of her face. She wasn’t used to having hair this long. She would’ve liked to just brush it away, but she was advised to avoid placing her hands near her face for at least a week while her body adjusted to the changes. Adjusting her posture a bit, Glory winched slightly as the new augments tugged slightly against the reinforcing braces installed throughout her torso to keep her arms from ripping her body apart. Even with rapid healing tech, things were still a little sore from an operation so invasive.
Fighting the instinct to swing her arms as she walked, Glory blinked a few times as her vision blurred. She almost rubbed her eyes, but then remembered the warning about keeping her hands away from her face and settled with blinking a few more times. She was flanked by people who she didn’t know, but did recognize. Their uniforms were of APEX issue, but why they were escorting her somewhere remained unknown. Out in the parking lot, an armored car was waiting. One of them pulled the door open for her before issuing a stern command to get in.
With no choice but compliance, Glory ducked inside…
Now…
The armored car pulled up outside of a donut shop. If it had been any other occasion she would’ve hopped out immediately, but she was told to sit still for the time being. After a few moments, the door opened again. Did they not trust her to open her own doors? Probably not, once Glory considered the specifications that she’d seen briefly. Shuffling out of the car, Glory was told to follow one of the APEX team members inside for the planned meeting.
Feeling just a little bit of embarrassment and humiliation at the fact that she was going into a meeting wearing only a tube top, combat cargo pants, a tied jacket belt, and some thick combat boots, Glory followed the APEX team member inside. Once there she was pointed towards a booth where someone she thought she’d never see again sat.
Taking a step forward, Glory paused for a moment before looking over her shoulder and speaking. Her voice was a bit hoarse, but she got the message across fairly well. ”While we’re here. I want some donuts. Grab me a variety box, please. I’ll pay later.” With that, she walked over and sat down. Bringing her arms up was slightly mortifying. They didn’t feel like they moved so much as they teleported now. Bringing them to rest gently on her edge of the table, Glory had to adjust them a little once the table started to creak. With that finished, she said a name didn’t expect to say ever again. ”Hello, Lott.”
Lott’s eyes refocused as she stopped reviewing the tapes. Her lips disappeared into her mouth as she stared at the stranger sitting across from her. There was a moment of worry— either Theresa had changed drastically in the past couple of days or Lott needed to ask Dr. Howland to up her medication. A facial scan recognized the woman as hired security from the Swathe Street Incident, but Lott’s face only untensed after the scan picked up Glory’s face again with it attached to a series of emails.
“Welcome, Glory, I’ve been expecting you,” said Lott, lying. “Everyone else, out.”
This had been a planned meeting. A planned, confidential meeting in a public place where she was supposed to grab a snack with her intern. Lott turned and looked over her shoulder at the APEX goons that had infiltrated after the scout. They were crawling around the donut shop, clearing the booths and the bathrooms of any clients or corporate spies. The donutender was roughly grabbed by the shoulder and escorted out the front door, a variety box in his hands. The goons reached to lay hands on a sharp, young intern but were stopped by a sharp whistle from Lott. Surely, if Lott had planned for APEX to release Glory here, she had also planned for Theresa to join her for the meeting. A learning opportunity, right? Theresa was smart enough to come up with a lesson.
“She stays, as do the donuts,” said Lott, summoning her intern and Glory’s donut order over to the table with the snap of her finger. She slid over to allow for Theresa to take the seat next to her and waited for the APEX crew to lockdown the donut shop. She pulled her tablet up close to her chest and began scanning for the appropriate document. It was only when Lott was certain that the three women were left alone that she spoke again, her attention still affixed to the tablet. “So, do either of you know why we’re here?”
Theresa stared for a moment, stunned by the rapid goon-squad takeover of the peaceful donut diner. One minute she was contemplating a bite of tropical paradise, the next she was sitting across from an impressive woman in a tube top, whose massive arms appeared ready to snap the art-deco table like a twig. What on earth had just happened?
”Um,”, she started, tossing the nonsense syllable out like bait in the water. She watched carefully to see if any sharks snapped at it first. ”I just came to- I mean- I-I don’t know about her. Um, you look familiar. Have we met…?”
Things happened too fast for Theresa to follow. Miss Ramana seemed to be in control, or at least, she didn’t seem surprised by this turn of events. Of course, she would make it a working outing, wouldn’t she? But then - why was she asking why we were here…? She knew better than to question her boss on anything in public, so her eyes searched the larger woman’s almost desperately, seeking an answer written somewhere on her impressive facade.
Glory blinked as Theresa essentially materialized next to Lott as the APEX goons locked the building down. She recognized her vaguely from somewhere before. The incident at the Swathe Street Commons. Turning her head briefly to get a better look at her, Glory scowled slightly as a lock of her longer hair fell into her face. Tossing her head a bit to get it out of the way, she blinked again as she admitted that Glory seemed familiar. Still a bit hoarse, Glory spoke up again to clarify. ”Swathe Street Commons. I was on duty. My hair wasn’t this long and my arms weren’t so big.”
With a basic explanation given Glory turned to look at Lott once more. As previously this motion caused a lock of hair to fall into her face, which Glory had to toss out of the way once more. Speaking up again, Glory took a guess at the answer to Lott’s question. ”As for why we are here, I assume that it potentially has something to do with these-” Glory would take a moment to nod downward at her new arms before resuming. ”And the fact that I am still alive. The fact that I was brought to you leads me to guess that you had a hand in it?”
As Glory finished speaking, it became notable that she was opening and closing her right hand gently. To Glory, this simple motion felt weird. Too instant, too smooth. Not even the occasional knuckle crack. Just powerful synthligaments pushing and pulling heavily armored fingers backwards and forwards. It was all she could do to try and practice for the moment while she waited for an answer.
Theresa watched Glory toss her hair aside, distracted by the long, nut-brown locks as they waved past her. “Oh…” was all she got out, before reminding herself not to speak out-of-turn and interrupt her boss.
“Although I am currently a representative of the company, I do not hold the authority to outfit security officers with a prototype series of cybernetics such as the XL-001. You are alive because your company thought you were an asset, and my company thought they were an asset,” said Lott, having taken the time to find the relevant doc for this meeting and skim through the information. She finally looked up from her tablet and turned towards Theresa, “Make note of this situation: Ms. Batalia would not be alive today if she wasn’t such a hard worker.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“You are meeting with me because legally we are required to provide proof that you have consented to the terms and conditions regarding your cybernetics. I, Lott Ramana, hereby to be referred to as Party B, will inform Amelia Batalia, also known by her callsign Glory, hereby referred to as Party A, of what is to be expected of her now that her outfit Knight Enterprise, henceforth to be called Company B, has become a partial subsidiary of APEX Industries, which shall be called Company A. We are witnessed today by my intern, Theresa—Intern A—who will act as an independent company, let’s say Company C, to verify that Party A was informed by Party B about the deal Company B made with Company A on the behalf of Party A, and that none of this was coaxed out under any duress, and that all parties, that being Party A and Company C, are aware that this will be recorded by Party B, who shall turn this recording over to Company A and B to serve as proof of compliance.”
“Are we clear so far?” asked Lott.
Glory’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of her actual name. Not a whole lot of people called her that, and those that did were in positions where they usually just called her Glory anyway. To hear it so suddenly was alien and unsettling. However, it did prompt Glory to snap out of her mild haze and focus carefully upon what was being said. As Lott descended seamlessly into full legal speak Glory mentally groaned. Now everything was going to be much more complicated.
Blinking a few times as Lott ran through a string of legal requirements as efficiently as a machine, Glory paused in replying audibly at the question for a few moments in order to give her still-somewhat-on-painkillers brain a few moments to process what all was being said. After a few moments of this pondering Glory posed a question that she deemed important. ”And what, exactly, are the terms and conditions?”
“Due to a transfer in who is now the major shareholder of Company B, Party A shall now exclusively offer her services to Company A. In return, Company A will allow Party A to continue to exercise their user rights of the XL-001 prototype. Failure to uphold her duty to the expectations of Company A, which is vaguely undefined, will be considered a violation of these terms of service and result in the termination of user access to any of their APEX products,” said Lott, staring through Glory as if she was reading a teleprompter behind her.
Lott turned to Theresa. As the girl’s steward, it was her duty to properly make sure that the intern was absorbing the information. People misconstrued stories about corporations and the uneducated working class all the time, often taking what is truly charity and calling it something more sinister like exploitation. Glory wasn’t being taken advantage of but rather being given the chance to take advantage of the opportunity of a lifetime. The choice had already been made for her anyway.
Lott explained, “See, Theresa, Ms. Batalia was fatally injured in the line of duty. For reasons unclear to me, her direct supervisor Mr. Salt thought it would be a better idea to invest in restoring Ms. Batalia to fighting conditions rather than training a new security officer and decided to pay for those new guns.”
For clarification, Lott fired off a finger gun twice at each one of Glory’s new arms. She didn’t want her intern to get confused. She blew away the invisible smoke and holstered the deadly weapon.
“To afford payment, Salt sold a majority share of Knight Enterprise to APEX. Considering the excessive bloat in private security companies over the past few years, it’s actually quite impressive that it could cover the cost of Ms. Batalia’s operation. Although still technically a private security outfit, all contracts will have to be approved by an APEX representative. As well, APEX now reserves the right to pull any Knight, such as they’re going to do with Ms. Batalia, to bolster their own security forces when it is deemed necessary. Really, Ms. Batalia is quite fortunate. Don’t you agree, Theresa?”
Theresa bit back a question, resolving to inquire later when alone with her boss. There was no sense in questioning her boss in public. Instead she turned to the security officer, nodding and giving her a confident smile. “You must be proud to bear such advanced technology, Ms. Batalia, or may I call you Amelia?” She looked up and down one of the technological protrusions. “Um, they look good on you.”
As Lott went on to explain the terms and conditions that she had been bound to, Glory only had one thought come to mind: ”So basically, I’m at APEX’s beck and call or else I have to adapt to life without arms. That’s… Something, alright.” Once Lott turned to her assistant to bounce how grand of an opportunity this was off of them, Glory’s head turned slightly to watch as they nodded along happily with what Lott had gone over thus far. Blinking once more as Theresa asked if she could call her Amelia, Glory gave a blunt answer. ”Eh… Glory will do fine, and… Thanks.”
The complement was somewhat lost on Glory’s addled mind, but she somewhat felt that Theresa was hitting on her? At least that’s how it started to come across. Maybe that would come up later. For now Glory looked back to Lott and cleared her throat a bit before speaking up. It didn’t help with how hoarse her voice was. ”Alright… I can’t let Salt make a sacrifice like that without making it worth it. Where do I sign?”
Lott flipped her tablet around. Glory’s legal name was already typed into the document. All the Knight had to do was check the box that confirmed she was willing to bypass an actual signature in favor of a digital one. Lott believed it was a secure enough method; someone else checking the box would’ve been committing a form of identity theft and could be prosecuted. She set the tablet down on the table and slid it over towards Glory, but Lott didn’t withdraw her hand. The other woman had a history of taking Lott’s personal devices. She’d be a wreck if she lost another.
“Once you have given your consent, Party A’s duty to Company A begins effective immediately,” said Lott. “You as well as other Knights will be expected to bolster the security detail during the debate.”
Looking down at the tablet, Glory took a few moments to breathe and blink at it. At first she tried to read over the document a bit to skim some of the important parts, but even this simple effort was rough on her still foggy mind. Just how strong had the painkillers she’d been given been? Hopefully the fog passed sooner rather than later. Unfortunately, now came time for a bit of a test. Glory began to carefully move her arms, and one could see her face harden in concentration as she struggled with the sensation of her arms seemingly teleporting rather than moving. This was probably not going to go well.
Even what felt like subtle movements still produced significant results. Slowly, Glory managed to bring her finger down on the checkbox. It flicked green, signaling that consent had been given… Then the screen cracked. A web of cracks formed above where Glory had pressed with as little pressure as she could. Immediately, Glroy’s face flushed red with embarrassment. This embarrassment quickly turned into shame and some light self loathing as Glory fully registered what had happened. Growling in frustration slightly, Glory popped off an apology promptly. ”Sorry… Not used to moving these. Every motion feels like my arm teleports rather than moves…”
Lott’s pupils narrowed until they practically disappeared, her irises pale blue screens of death. She did not blink as she stared through Glory. Visions of hand signals, shattered glass, pink mist, and traumatized interns flashed rapidly through her mind like a grotesque flipbook drawn by a desensitized middle schooler in the margins of a classic piece of literature. The band around Lott’s wrist faintly beeped as a mild sedative was injected to lower her rising heart rate. She finally blinked, her vision cleared, and she pulled the tablet back towards her chest, holding it dearly like it were a mortally wounded comrade.
Theresa’s shoulders tensed at the craaaack! of breaking glass, and her heart sank at the sight of a rupture spreading across the screen like a digital spiderweb. They were already down one device…and now this? Well, at least she was already familiar at the mobile-electronics shop… Theresa bit back an interjection, just giving her boss a supportive nod. I should offer something useful here. Think, Theresa!
“It is not a problem, Ms. Batalia. I have an extended warranty,” said Lott, knowing full well the warranty had expired months ago. She sounded out of breath. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the damage done to the screen. No offer for reimbursement? This was the kind of offense that sparked blood feuds that lasted for generations.
“Hardly noticeable,” said Lott with a choke, her words masking the sound of the screen cracking further underneath her tightening grip. Her eyes motioned towards the exit. “You will understand that I mean no offense if I do not end this meeting with a handshake.”
Glory frowned as Lott began to choke up. Blinking a few times in awkward silence as Lott began to grip the tablet firmly. In a moment of clarity she recalled that something had been managed in the time that had passed since something had been taken from Lott. Speaking up, Glory began to explain something. ”Up until now I would’ve considered this classified, but since Knight Enterprise has been acquired, this is technically knowable to the people involved here as far as I’m aware… If you go up to Knight’s HQ, ask about case number 10164. Tell them that Glory sent you, and tell them that you’ve got authorization code 70216 to retrieve object 734. Your phone was repaired, examined, and found to be irrelevant to the case. You can get it back at any time."
Theresa took a moment to appreciate her boss’s poise. The woman was clearly upset. Did her voice crack there at the end? And yet, she remained cool and professional - even cracking a small joke to lighten the tension! She was a true professional. Theresa waited for a lull in the conversation before speaking up. ”Perhaps the implants have nervous-interface settings that can be adjusted?” she said. ”They could be overreacting to your natural impulses and simply need calibration, as it were. After all, they are only prototypes, so I’m sure they are expecting them to need some fine-tuning.”
Did cybernetics actually work that way? It probably didn’t matter. The important thing was to be helpful. How the implants worked was for the engineers to worry about. At least that sounded smart. To Lott she added, ”Glory should probably get some rest if she’s working tonight, but also, she should probably get some practice in if she’s to interface with the public. I’m sure any accidents would reflect poorly on Mayor Gatch? I could probably find some, umm, mannequins or dummies or something.”
At the mention of the cybernetics not being calibrated, Glory shrugged. The motion felt awkward and Glory felt the supports that had been implanted into her shoulders twinge in pain. This was expressed with a slight grimace of pain before Glory spoke again. ”I’d very much appreciate a fat nap right about now. Along with probably another dose of anti-inflams to help with the healing… And then some time to practice with these things so I’m not casually destroying everything I try to touch. In the meantime, I’d like to power down that box of doughnuts as a comfort pick-me-up. Though I’m gonna have to enjoy the fun that is possibly destroying them when I try to pinch them, so…”
Resistant to the idea of shrugging again, Glory opted for a less-painful head-tilt-shrug.
The rest of Glory's reply clicked all at once. The phone! Theresa had assumed the device was hopelessly buried under red tape. Stupid! Of course the personal device of someone so important would be handled with extra urgency!
"M-Miss Ramana has already procured a replacement," she blurted out, thrusting the precious device into view with what she hoped appeared to be a dramatic flourish instead of a panic move.
Lott stared blankly at the smartphone. The news that Lott could receive her old phone had slightly dulled the pain in her heart over the mortal injury dealt to her second favorite device, although Glory referring to her phone as irrelevant was like spit in the eyes. The phone was proof enough that a warning was never the proper course of action for a security officer. Perhaps if Glory had registered that lesson then she wouldn’t be struggling to avoid turning her donut into a pancake now.
All of that was now irrelevant thanks to the device Theresa had flicked out like a switchblade knife. Lott attempted to recall when she had acquired the new phone. Nothing pinged in her search history; had she erased the VOD for the memory file? It seemed uncharacteristic. She would have certainly created a backup just to have a quick reference point to what was and was not covered in the extended warranty. Lott gingerly plucked the phone from Theresa’s hand. It opened to her biometrics. She saw a stack of notifications for missed calls from saved contacts and the default wallpaper of a black background with a gray squiggle. It was her phone all right, but how? Another blackout purchase? Normally those things weren’t so conventional.
She wrinkled her eyebrows and sideyed Theresa. It was a gift? Impossible. Lott looked away. She felt lightheaded. It was a gift. She wouldn’t have splurged on such a new model. She set the shattered tablet down next to her on the bench because she no longer had the strength to hold it. She safely put the phone down in front of her, fearful that touching it again would transform it into a spider because clearly she was dreaming. Her chest tightened. Of course she wasn’t dreaming, her last one was killed years ago.
Theresa had gone out of her way to buy her a phone and set it up with her profile. This intern—her intern! Without a doubt it was the nicest, most considerate thing someone had ever done for Lott in her entire life. It was absolutely exhilarating. She felt the pinprick hit her wrist again as another mild sedative entered her bloodstream. Normally she would have to force a double dosage just to keep herself functioning so coolly. She worked up the courage to grab the phone and slipped it inside of her jacket where it rested right against her heart.
Words lacked the complexity to express the feelings Lott held. They just wouldn’t be enough. She turned towards Theresa, made eye contact, and nodded once in approval. Lott was thankful she was sitting down. Her legs felt like they had been removed for defaulting on a loan. She turned towards Glory, corrected her shaky disposition with a sniff, and said with a nod towards the door, “Then unless there is anything else?”
Glory blinked a few times as Theresa thrust the new phone forward. That certainly made things a little awkward, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. As the question was posed, she paused for a moment before giving a simple reply. ”No. I don’t think so. Which means…”
With a bit of shuffling, Glory stood up. Now that she was free of the table she was able to let her arms rest a bit, and as she gently lowered them to her sides the enhanced length of them became obvious for all to see when Glory would touch her knees without issue. Shuddering slightly as she tried to get used to how moving felt, Glory glanced down at the box of donuts and posed an awkward question. ”Uh… Someone grab that for me, please? I’m kinda… Not confident in my ability to not destroy something like cardboard.”
"Oh!" In a flash, the uniformed intern stood next to the table, box in hand. Multicolored icing glistened under the fluorescent lights as Theresa slid the plastic cover over the box’s immeasurably precious cargo. "Allow me."
Lott muttered something underneath her breath and stared at the empty booth across from her. She buried the feeling of guilt brought on by wanting to have seen the box of donuts crushed like the other day’s rioters, red jelly sticking to superior cybernetics, and swept the crumbs from her own destroyed donut underneath the napkin dispenser. She waited patiently as her intern assisted Glory with the transportation of the treats. It was only when they got to the door that Lott slid down to the end of her booth and poked her head out, her eyes as glazed over as Glory’s donuts.
“One moment, Ms. Batalia,” said Lott. She stood up from the booth with her hands in her pockets and did not approach as she looked past Glory to the APEX goon guarding the door. Lott stepped to the side so that Glory blocked him from her field of view. “Coming from both the data we have collected as well as my own personal eye witness experience regarding your performance in the field I believe it would be irresponsible if I allow you to leave without saying this. Note that this conversation is off the record and any future reference to it will be marked as slander and stain your fresh company record. Still, I believe it is my duty to see that you are properly informed.”
“APEX doesn’t do warnings,” said Lott as she stared unflinchingly at Glory. She pulled a hand from her pocket and beckoned; a moment later the bell chimed as the goon opened the door for Glory. Lott turned back to the booth but then shot Glory a look over her padded suit shoulders, the neon glow of her earrings giving her skin a sickly pallor. “Welcome to the team.”
Glory paused as Lott spoke up again. Listening closely as it was explained that APEX doesn’t do warnings and that this conversation was classified. With a nod, Glory spoke up. ”Understood. And, if I might request… Please, call me Glory. I am far more used to it.”
With that, she turned to leave once more.
"Then we’ll see you in a few hours at the debate…Glory," Theresa said with a smile as she opened the door. The cool evening air rushed through the open doorway, carrying with it the scent of springtime rain and urban smog. "It’s a pity you can’t stick around, though; this donut shop actually has excellent karaoke nights.” She winked.”Sort of a campus secret."
Glory paused again as Theresa lamented that she couldn’t hang out. Glancing back briefly, she offered an understandable excuse. ”Would if I could, but when these meds wear off I’d rather be at home. Maybe some other time.” And with nothing else to say, Glory left for home.
