- AL -

Morning rays hit the curtains, softening the incoming light into Ysadora’s bedroom. Lying with her eyes wide open, Ysadora contemplated the light, noticing the clock at the corner of her vision: 25-07, 6h43 a.m. Rising in a seated position, pulling her blankets around her, she grimaced as her muscles ached. It had been two days since her fight against the Vymana squadron; yet, she had to grant their strength for making her feel like she underwent weeks of training.

Those thoughts only added to the reason why she was already awake; for the Feldsmarschall’s last words had resonated throughout the following nights despite her best efforts to eradicate their memory.

Ysadora rose from her bed, and walked to the bathroom. Pausing in front of the mirror, she analyzed her reflection. In an almost disgusted manner, she stroke her platinum blond hair. That alone was the only tangible proof of her transgression against her human nature. Losing her natural brown hair color, and giving faithful obedience to her saviours, was the exchange for the life she should never have had. She leaned closer and looked in her reflection’s turquoise eyes. Poets once said that eyes were windows to the soul. If that was true, then she certainly could see hers, strong and unwavering; so why did the Feldsmarchall’s words stirred something in that soul? Why did she, in occasions, still felt under-par to those around her? Only because she shouldn’t be alive right now? When has loyalty and gratitude ever equated to losing one’s humanity?

Ysadora turned away. What did the Feldsmarschall knew of her? How could he ever understand? Loyalty and honour was something she knew; that was her humanity. And if it wasn’t enough, then she would prove its existence.

**********************

Abraham examined with suspicion the plate of oatmeal and fruits; taking another bite, he cringed at the taste, feeling as if he was eating dry sand.

“These people seriously need to add milk to the oatmeal,” he sighed, pushing the bowl away and keeping the fruits, which tasted decent.

“Having trouble with cafeteria-based breakfast?” Ysadora teased him, sitting at his table without invitation, her own plate containing nothing but toasts and three slices of cheese.

Abraham grimaced.

“It seems to be the norm everywhere, at any cafeteria: cheap coffee that tastes bland, or mud, and sand-like dried breakfast,” he sighed.

“Should use your power to change that,” Ysadora continued to tease him over her own cup of coffee.

Abraham looked at her with amusement for some moments, before finally saying:

“If you’re trying to be discrete about keeping an eye on me, it doesn’t work.”

“I’m not hiding. I told you: I am keeping an eye on you,” Ysadora nonchalantly replied, sipping her coffee.

“You’re gutsy in your confidence that by knowing what you’re up to, people will still reveal their true selves,” Abraham smirked. “I like it. After all, you’re right.”

“I am?” Ysadora smiled innocently.

“Confidence works both ways; and the victims are more often than not too confident that they can keep secrets when knowing they are observed.”

Ysadora considered him.

“You truly know your psychology.”

“Surprised?”

“A little. Many people are all talk, no action.”

“Except Randall; hence why you’re protective of him.”

“And you’re here because you feel your ambitions might finally bloom under the right superior,” Ysadora countered.

“Nothing wrong with that. We all need teachers to show us the way; and they need students to prove their teachings right.”

Abraham paused to take a bite at the orange quarters, then he smirked at Ysadora.

“But my earlier words still apply. As much as you think I’ll drop my guards knowing you observe me, as much as I’m confident you’ll drop yours while believing you are safe.”

Ysadora considered him, her turquoise eyes turning defensive.

“And why are you so interested?”

Abraham smiled softly.

“I told you last time: you look like someone that deserves being understood.”

Ysadora stared at Abraham, and he chuckled as she tried the best she could to hide her shock. And her cheeks becoming red certainly didn’t help her desperate efforts.

“Miss Dawn?”

Ysadora and Abraham rose their heads and saw Daniel standing by the side, carrying a pile of folders.

“What do you want?” Ysadora sharply asked.

“I have the documents that you requested, ma’am: the compilations of all...”

Ysadora rose abruptly from her chair and laid her hand on his elbow.

“Not here, Daniel. People are eating breakfast, they don’t need to hear about business.”

“As you wish, ma’am.”

She picked up her coffee cup, and smiled apologetically at Abraham.

“Sorry. We’ll have to continue this conversation another time.”

Abraham rose from his chair, and kissed her hand in guise of goodbye, smirking at her surprised expression.

**

Ysadora closed her office door and sat behind her desk.

“Okay, you were saying?”

“I have the documents that you requested, ma’am; the compilation of all the actions, investments and vices of our current, and past, council members and investors,” Daniel resumed in his usual monotonic tone, setting down carefully the folders upon the glass table.

“You’re fast, as always,” Ysadora complimented him, sifting quickly through the names.

“May I ask the purpose of this compilation, ma’am?” he asked, a hint of curiosity showing through his impassible face.

“The plan is starting to enter its final stage. I need insurances against anyone who will rise against us to tear it down,” Ysadora explained.

“Why is the population not happy, ma’am? Are you not offering them security on all vital aspects of their life?” Daniel asked, visibly puzzled.

“It’s not the population that worries me. It’s those we kicked out of their powerful position; and those we will kick out in the future. Power is not something humans give up easily on.”

“And you are afraid they will undermine your plan in revenge of their lost power, ma’am?”

“Something like that. With your compilation, though, we’ll have the upper hand. It’s hard to look good when everyone knows about your flaws and vices.”

“Although I have some flaws resulted from my military work, I am not aware that I have vices, ma’am. Am I not looking good because everyone knows of vices that I am not aware of?” Daniel asked.

Ysadora looked at him blankly.

“I wasn’t referring to you, Daniel.”

“But you did, ma’am. You said...”

Ysadora stopped him with a raised hand.

“Thank you for the compilation, Daniel.”

“You are welcome, ma’am.”

Ysadora returned to reading the morning political news, until after a few minutes, she realized Daniel was still standing in front of her desk.

“Yes? What do you want?” she asked, annoyed.

“I have urgent and intriguing news for you, ma’am,” he answered simply.

Ysadora’s frown lifted with interest, and a bit of annoyance.

“And why haven’t you started with the ‘urgent and intriguing news’ first, since it was so important?”

“You wanted to see my compilation of all the actions, investments and vices of our current, and past, council members and investors, ma’am. It was thus the priority.”

Ysadora sighed; he was really thick sometime.

“Next time, the priority is the news, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Silence fell in the office. Ysadora waited expectantly to hear this famous news, but Daniel still wouldn’t talk, looking straight at her, unflinching.

“Daniel?” she asked, worried.

“Yes, ma’am?” he answered.

“So?…”

“...fia, ma’am,” he replied proudly.

“What?” Ysadora was now deeply puzzled.

“Sofia, ma’am. The ending for the most relevant word to our conversation, beginning with ‘So’, that you were asking for. It is the Greek word for wisdom.”

Ysadora restrained herself from making a facepalm.

“I meant, what is the news that was so urgent?”

“A public disturbance, ma’am. In the Plaza, two days ago, 23-7, at 9:38 a.m. A citizen, Frank Cooper, spoke against the government, and 48 other citizens spoke in favour of the government; afterwards, 6 minutes and 23 seconds later, five citizens endeavoured to administrate pain to Frank Cooper…”

Ysadora restrained a chuckle upon hearing Daniel describe a beating, like a scientist observing rats.

“...when a metal shock sound was heard, three of the five citizens were pushed to the crowds, and the disturbance ended. The name of the five attacking citizens were...”

“I don’t need their names. Okay... so, that’s it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How is that intriguing and urgent? Public beatings are common, and it’s none of our business. Even if a few citizens goes, it makes that much less to spend our resources on. It’s been like that since before you got employed.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“So?...” Ysadora asked after a few moments of silence, to have more informations.

“...phie, ma’am. A French common name for female gender, derived from your previous inquiry, Sofia, the Greek word for wisdom.”

“Stop it with the Sofia/Sophie!!” Ysadora burst.

“Yes, ma’am,” Daniel impassively replied.

Ysadora calmed herself down; nine years she had him as her assistant, and she was still not used to his train of thoughts.

“What’s so intriguing about this disturbance?” she clarified.

“The two that protected the public speaker do not belong to any database, ma’am,” Daniel explained.

“What do you mean?”

“As always, I checked the origin of the metallic sound. It came from this weapon, ma’am,” he rose and took out a phone-like device; he placed it on the desk, and opened it.

A holographic screen floated, showing a live footage of the previous day in the Plaza. As he said, a public speaker began to shout, and Ysadora smirked upon hearing the crowd basically swearing their allegiances to Bohm’s government. The crowd beat the speaker, but two figures walked up to the crowd, previously observing the scene. Ysadora paused in shocked surprise at the following scene, and even had to replay the instant where the one with a hat and clad in white, a woman judging by her demeanour, came to suddenly hold two long baton-like weapons, set them down after scaring the crowd, and joined the second figure, a male and clad of dark grey, at helping the public speaker. Despite the camera filter, Ysadora could swear that the two strangers seemed to be surrounded by a glimmering shimmer; it was as subtle as fleeting dust in sun rays. The three figures spoke together for awhile, then the public speaker hurried away. Ysadora rose her eyebrows in a second surprise as the male figure in dark grey looked around him and settled at looking straight at the camera, his dark eyes burning with both curiosity and suspicion; a small shiver ran on Ysadora’s neck as she felt as if he was staring straight at her. The young woman by his side looked too at the camera after he showed it to her; after a few words, they walked away.

“Okay, that was new,” Ysadora commented. “While they obviously didn’t knew of the existence of the cameras at first, they then knew exactly where they were…”

“And the weapons, ma’am,” Daniel reminded her, while rewinding the footage to the moment the woman clad of white held the sticks.

“I know, I know. But where the hell did they come from? She has no scabbards, no belt, no holsters, and they just… appeared out of nowhere?” Ysadora asked, her mind racing at figuring out the answer to this mystery.

“I do not know, ma’am. But it has no match whatsoever with any weapons sold.”

“Homemade, then... That might be a danger, especially if made to fight against our government...” she said thoughtfully.

“What brings you to this conclusion, ma’am?”

“They helped that man, the one against us.”

She rose, determination in her eyes.

“Alright, I want a face match right away, Daniel,” she ordered.

“I believe I already told you, ma’am. I have taken the liberty to search for one. They have none, ma’am.”

Ysadora slowly turned to him.

“What?”

“They have no match, ma’am. They exist nowhere in our database.”

“That’s impossible! We own all the population database, every births since ninety years, every deaths,” she replied.

“Yes ma’am. To an exception.”

“Really? Which one?”

“The Africani, Suth Americani, Pacifica native tribes, as well as underground communities with unregistered births, ma’am,” he answered impassively.

Ysadora stared at him, annoyed.

“Do they look like tribal natives, or hippies, Daniel?”

“No ma’am.”

“Exactly. So why don’t they show up in our database?”

“I do not know, ma’am.”

“Great... I have to warn Randall; this might be serious,” she decided, walking out of her office, Daniel dutifully following her.