Sure there were charges that Miss Linson could probably bring to bear against the two women but they weren’t really criminals. They were just the victims of fate. She had found proof that her claims could have been real but it was not far too late for that case. Even if she could find the man it would be difficult to persecute him for a case he was found innocent of.
Miss Linson returned the case file to the drawer and shut it again. She returned to the report that she had been trying to write. She tapped her pen on the paper trying to decide what to write on it. Of equal importance was what she was planning on doing with it. She had superiors that she was expected to report, should she send the report to them telling them what she discovered. She didn’t even know if they ever read the regular reports that she sent them.
Still lying to her superiors could have some serious ramifications when it was discovered and the government was quick to deal with that sort of insubordination.
She paused her tapping while she considered an alternative. Project Mayfly was supposed to be the solo authority on investigating supernatural claims and providing countermeasures. Previously that had basically meant nothing but now… it could mean something. Right now she had a lever, knowledge and information that she had never had before.
Wasn’t there something that dealt with this kind of situation thought Miss Linson. She went over to one of the filing cabinets. She looked through it until her found what she was looking for, the charter for Project Mayfly. It was an old document, Project Mayfly had been around for a long time.
She brought the charter back to the desk where she began to look through it. There it was, the instructions for Code Icarus. It was an old contingency should the project ever actually discover supernatural activities. She didn’t know if anybody else still know about Code Icarus but it would provide her official support for her idea. Following the rules was how the government liked to work even when those rules were written by people who were no longer alive.
There was a number written down on the page. Miss Linson pulled out her phone and dialed it. It rang for a quite a while but it seemed to not be on any answering machine so the phone continued to just ring and ring. She waited and finally somebody answered the phone. “Hello? Who is this?” Asked the uncertain voice on the other side.
“This is Marilyn Linson in Project Mayfly. I am activating Code Icarus. My activation code is GF492 FB259.” She said.
“Oh, yes, let me get my boss.” The person on the other side of the phone went quiet and eventually there was another voice. It was a rough man’s voice. “Code Icarus? What is this all about?”
“Isn’t that your job to know?” Asked Miss Linson. “Since it is a secret code if you don’t know what it is they you will have to pass it on to your superiors. Do you need me to say my activation code again?”
“No, it was written down. A secret code from Project Mayfly?” There was some grumbling on the other end before he finally responded, “We have received your message. We will ensure the activation of Code Icarus… whatever that is.”
“Thanks.” Said Miss Linson who then hung up. She wondered how long that would take to process.
She smiled and returned to writing the report. It read simply, “Code Icarus has been activated. As of now Project Mayfly is considered to be top secret. All activities are on a strictly need-to-know basis. Please submit proper authorization to continue receiving reports.”
She signed the paper and placed in an envelope. Wrote the address to be delivered. She even managed to find some ink to use on her large “Important” stamp which she had never used before. With the report properly completed she left it in the mailbox and returned to her office once more.
Instead of immediately sitting down she went to another filing cabinet and pulled out binder of files. This one was a list of old personnel at Project Mayfly. It was rather big. The first few pages were lists of names with their associated page number. Several of the names had been highlighted by her, although considering the size of the list those namer were very uncommon.
They were the names of the former employees that she had trusted and who expressed actual interest in the project. They had all still eventually quit but their names remained, people who she had planned to contact if this ever happened. She started with the first name on the list. If this Project was going to continue from now on it would have to change and it would no longer be able to be just her.
She needed others to help her get stabilized before her superiors and others managed to cut through all the red tape that she had just strung up in their way. It she could have a team and a stable project it would be hard to shake her from that position but if they got to her before then she might be replaced with somebody who had less personal stack and more political worth.
“Thanks for answer. I know it has been a while but this is Marilyn Linson from Project Mayfly. Today I activated Code Icarus. Do you want to join me?”
The woman held her breath to keep it from being heard. It was late at night and there were not very many lights so her enemies would be relying as much on hearing as they were on vision. If they found her she would be dead. Soldiers had very little sympathy for independence soldiers like her and would certainly shoot her on sight. She could hear them moving in the room beside her. If she opened the door then she would certainly see them.
She held her gun tightly. With it she might be able to take out a couple of them before there remaining ones shot her. Go out in a blaze of glory, except there would be no blaze and no glory. Just her corpse on the floor like any other. Nobody would tell stories about her or probably even remember that she existed at all. That kind of death was worse then anything else.
So she waited, waited for the group of soldiers to leave. They were on guard. They did not know that she was there but they did expect somebody was there. They always expected that somebody was there, those that did not lived even shorter lives then those that did. But she waited in her hiding space until she could not hear anything. Then she waited even long just to make certain.
Once that had been done she slipped out from the small room that she hiding to look out into the bigger room. It was dark, pitch dark. She clicked on her small read lantern that was hanging on her belt. It make the place almost visible. The big broken machines still filled the room. The light from her lantern was barely noticeable which was good. It would be harder for other people to notice and the red light that it cast didn’t irritate the eyes like a white light would.
She had initially come into the building to avoid the patrol however she had not expected them to look through the building which was an oversight on her part. She checked her bag to make sure that the package was still there. It was her job to deliver it. Sure she wouldn’t have to worry about delivering it if she was dead but then she wouldn’t have many other worries then either.
The woman made her way to the edge of the building and looked the black tinted windows to see if she could see anything. There was the lights of the patrol heading off back toward their camp. Good, she didn’t think she would have to worry about them any longer tonight.
The landscape was pocked with big holes where bombs had been dropped. Broken barbed wire and sandbags where scattered across the landscape, evidence of the war this land was embroiled in. One country fought another and when it one a new country rose up to fight some more. There could be no peace in this land. In the morning there would be the rattle of gunfire. Young recruits, little more than kids, would be firing at each other. This land had forgotten so much about its future that it would send even the youths to fight.
She left the building and flipped off her lantern again. The moon would be enough to travel by. Any extra source of light would just attract others.
She headed off to the base of the group that had hired her, what had they called themselves? The Winged Bringers of Peace. To her it was like a joke. They wanted peace but she knew it was a fool’s hope and a hypocritical name. They would be peace their violence. Yet should would rather help them then any of the other groups, at least the retained some shred of their humanity. Better a hopeless cause then a cruel one.
In the bag was important parts to some new weapon that would ‘revolutionize’ the war. In her opinion it would at best be useless and at worse also be adopted by some enemy in the future and used against them. Not that she would likely still be helping them at that point.
An hour of so latter she arrived at the bunker door. She knocked in the pre-described pattern and the door was opened for her. The too young man greeted her and welcomed her in. It was far better to work for people who wanted to be nice. She smiled in return, best to give a good impression. She planned on staying the night in this bunker, collect her payment which would likely be smaller than initially offered, and leave in the morning either on some new job or to find some new employer.
They would likely ask her to have her help them fight but like everybody who asked that of her she would refuse. To her there was no purpose in fighting a war. The only purpose she had in helping them would be in ensuring her own survival. That was difficult enough without getting fully embroiled in other people’s conflicts. Although she could understand why people joined to fight. They wanted some purpose in their life, something more than just waiting to die. A gun gave them that something.
She however had tasted something greater, something better then just violence and death. It hadn’t been much, a short lived higher calling, but it had dulled her to the eagerness to throw her life away in glory. Because there was no glory to be had. When all the wars ended who would tell the tales, it would be nobody because these were wars that nobody would survive.
I yawned an stretched before collapsing on the bed. It was another long day at the Pendulum Lounge. Martin had us working overtime there. It was partially his kindness to allow us to earn the money that we needed without having to rely on his charity so instead he worked us to the bone. I guess that people could show there kindness in different ways.
I played my keychain of Shīringuken on the side of my bed and released the Seal letting the sword return to full size. I then bound the front door remotely to keep out any intruders in the night. I hadn’t previously been able to use the Dimensional Seal at such a distance and through walls but since my Tools had changed it had become possible.