Chapter 14 #2
Sin laughed. "Yeah, well, it's not like I'm using them. So how'd you find out about this?"
"I watch the news." Trent gestured for the remote and flicked the holo to a different station.
"In the last three weeks, ten Ingénue have been attacked.
They're like little data couriers, and because of their price, the shit in their heads is pretty impressive.
Corporate secrets, patent information, tax records, things no company wants to have fall into the wrong hands. "
Sin nodded. "Figured that out already."
"Yeah, well, you know what those girls are trained to do when they're cornered?
" Trent scratched at the shadow of stubble on his jaw, waiting for Sinclair to admit his ignorance.
"They wipe their minds. Just an entire reboot of their body like it's a fucking machine.
Seems they completely rewire their entire nervous systems or something. "
That had his attention. "So, you're telling me a bug crawls over her shoe, and this delicate little flower is going to faint on me?" He tried to make it a joke, but it fell flat.
"No." Trent's voice was serious, which was very unlike him. "I'm telling you ten Ingénue were cornered, so they wiped their minds. Nine of them never woke up. If it wasn't against the precepts, I'd be willing to bet your angel is number ten."
Their eyes met, and Sin nodded. "Thing is, I think she needs our help."
"Wait, what?" Trent asked, his mouth falling open. "I'm surprised she even talked to you. Everyone who's been around them says the most they do is answer yes and no."
Sin took a long pull on his Coke, remembering how she'd tried to do exactly that. "Yeah. Well, I'm pretty sure my angel isn't like the others, and she hates to be called a bitch."
"How can you tell under all that cloth?" Trent teased. "You trying to get her naked already?"
"No." Sin pointed to his eyes. "Windows to the soul, Brother. That's why they look at the ground, so you can't read their expressions. Thing is, Rissa's not as well trained as they wish."
Trent chuckled. "So, how did you figure out her name?"
"Didn't. I gave her one. Ingénue R1554-9370S-02K16. That's kinda like Rissa Petos, if you read the numbers like letters, right?"
"Yeah, like the way kids shorten everything," Trent agreed. "So, you just started calling her Rissa, and she's ok with it?"
"Thrilled." Sin's voice was tragically cold.
"She's never had a name before, Trent, just the serial number.
She's not allowed to be an individual, but she is.
She doesn't live in a lavish apartment—the Enclave is a monitoring compound.
She lives in a four-foot care bay, hooked up to probes and feeding tubes. "
"And you buy this shit?"
Sin looked at the drink in his hand, realizing the supposedly spoiled girl he was protecting had probably never experienced something he took for granted. "Yeah. I do. She's like two different people. One when she's under surveillance, and another when I get her alone."
Trent laughed, leaning back in his chair. "So, did she try to rip all your armor off and trace kisses down your chest? Or, what was the other one? Something about claw marks across your shoulders?"
Blood rushed to his face. Sin had read the fan sites just once and vowed never to look at them again.
Unfortunately, Trent insisted on relaying the lewdest comments he could find.
While Sin could remember what it was like to touch a woman—well, a girl, at any rate, since he'd been sixteen at the time—Trent had taken his vows too young and the idea of a lusty fan intrigued him.
He was also highly amused by Sin's embarrassment about the whole thing.
"No," Sin said. "She barely touched me. Thing is, Caleb and Parker, the head of security for Pharmacon and his second in command, were trailing us today, and she went from demure to efficient.
The girl could barely catch her breath—they can't walk faster than a crawl without becoming exhausted—but she told me how much time we had till the train arrived, down to the second.
She didn't complain, she didn't lag behind. She kept up and made herself useful."
Trent stuck out his lower lip and nodded, mulling that over. "Ok. Tell me you weren't shocked an overweight mental case wasn't exactly in shape, though?"
"Rather the opposite. She's a rack of bones. There's nothing to her but layers of cloth."
"So you did get her out of the robes!" Trent winked deviously.
"I grabbed her arm. Through the cloth! Not even muscles; just a twig of a thing."
The jovial man groaned, still smiling. "You're killing my dreams here, Sin. Give me something to work with."
"She has pretty eyes? Grey, nearly silver, and if you watch, she conveys her expressions through them." He shrugged. "That help you any? Because it's all I got."
"Yeah," Trent muttered, flicking the remote at the screen before mashing a few more buttons.
"Grey eyes, huh?" He pulled up a news image of an Ingénue, then flicked to another and another.
"They're brown, Sin." He flicked again, this time finding a closeup, and pointed.
"Brown, not grey, and everyone knows they're clones. "
"Rissa's are grey."
Trent scowled, flipping through pages on the web quickly, using the holoscreen to display them.
His eyes scanned the information before moving on.
Finally, he stopped on a poor-quality image, supposedly from a bystander, displayed in the corner of an article.
He zoomed and enhanced the very pixelated image to show an unconscious girl wrapped in blue cloth, limp on a stretcher, being loaded into a medical transport.
He pressed again until only her half-covered face dominated the screen, her eyes open but staring at nothing, as if dead.
"Can't tell if they're grey or blue, but they sure aren't brown." He returned to the article and the headline proved his point. "Sixth Ingénue Attacked, The War On Cybernetics Has Begun."
"Yeah," Sin said softly. "That's my girl."
"So you're babysitting the only Ingénue who's woken up after a mind wipe, and from what you say, it sounds like she's pretty normal?"
"No," Sin laughed, the word caught between his chuckles. "No. She's not normal, not by a long shot. But she's human, if you can convince her to trust you."
"Right. So why am I here again? You just want to talk about your new crush or something?"
"I want to get her out." Sin tipped the bottle to his lips, sucking back the carbonation and feeling it burn as it slid down his throat.
"We're supposed to protect those who cannot protect themselves.
We're the hand of God, serving to bring justice to this world, right?
Well, if half of what she's said is true, she needs us. "