Nukledeus

Gili was pacing up and down in the little windowless room like a caged lioness. That stupid doctor had taken so long to arrange the meeting with the Shadow Girls that Gili's entire squadron had been officially disbanded. She had to order the twelve sections to sign up at the barracks' office and accept their new assignments. The last section of Chloé's squadron led by Dolick simply no longer existed, according to the service records, and yet none of them seemed to care.

What infuriated her the most was that she was on the "blacklist of deserters". It was the worse affront to her pride as a soldier and an arkian. The Special Forces were chasing her to arrest a traitor to the City, as they called her. She should not have ignored the orders. Her worries about Chloé's fate had taken precedence over her duties as a good little soldier. She probably deserved to be disciplined, but that didn't make her punishment any easier to accept.

Her years of distinguished services had not carried much weight when she had to appear before the extraordinary court martial. Whether it was due to the state of emergency or the curfew, the situation was not favorable to leniency, and the cases, including hers, were quickly dealt with.

Capitan Gili was now under the protection of Mona and her Shadow Girls. How else could she escape from the Special Forces ? She came to ask for help on her friend's behalf and met them as a wanted woman, in dire straits and looking for shelter. The talks did not look promising. She was already feeling cornered and defensive. Her own sections could only be reached through the Capitans' pub and she could not go there in person, Dolick carried all the messages.

In the confusion following the attack and the implementation of the curfew, the surviving soldiers of Chloé's squadron had not been listed. All of them conveniently omitted to report, so their names were on the roll of missing soldiers. Dolick himself appeared on the war memorial with all the names of the heroic soldiers who fell in the battle of the Light against the Darkness. Incognito, he even attended with a malicious delight the ceremony of the Wish, when priests and priestesses sang the song of wandering souls whose bodies could not merge with Nukledeus. It was at least as grand as the Reunification ceremony, except that there was no corpse to burn.

He was a hero, she was a traitor. Yet they were fighting the same battle. Both were relentlessly looking for a way to find Chloé. Where was the fairness in that? A bitter taste rose from the back of her throat, a foretaste of defeat, no doubt. Gili spit furiously on the ground. She would crush anyone who stood in her way and make them bite the dust.

Someone knocked on the door. Dolick came in, a bottle of Gin in his hand. He had finally managed to separate from the baby and spent most of his time around the campfires helping to prepare meals. He was still sporting the black eye that Dr Liston had inflicted on him after taking his child back.

Dolick was moving among the Shadow Girls with as much ease as among the citizens of Ark City. He didn't behave any differently, which did not fail to intrigue the Capitan who knew his shady past in the service of the Special Forces.

During his visits, he always brought useful information and Gili was grateful even if she felt uncomfortable relying on him. Nothing was easy and her situation was worsening day by day.

Dolick told her that a dozen Shadow Girls had volunteered to take them outside that very night. How many were they in total in the rebel group? This was a question that even the most knowledgeable Special Forces spies would be hard pressed to answer. Gili brushed aside this niggling idea to better focus on the real breakthrough of the day: Mona had agreed to take her outside through the secret ways.

The Capitan would have preferred to act in broad daylight to have better visibility and organize the search more efficiently but had to admit that discretion and prudence should take precedence. All armies were on the alert with the No-lights attack, the curfew and now the hunt for deserters and traitors.

Nevertheless, she was relieved to learn that she could lead the raid in coordination with a certain Suzanna who would act as an interface between Gili's soldiers and the Shadow Girls. Inactivity was driving her crazy.

Gili, engrossed in the planning of the raid, accepted, without thinking, the glass Dolick handed her. She just had time to frown at the strange taste of this drink. It certainly wasn't gin! The idea had barely taken shape in her mind before disappearing in a flash, and Gili collapsed on the ground.

Dolick slowly set the bottle on the floor and laid the Capitan down comfortably. His hand approached the deathly pale face and lifted an eyelid. Satisfied with the result, he took Gili in his arms and left the room, stone faced and utterly expressionless. He did what had to be done, without scruples or remorse. Action had always taken precedence. He did not need to rationalize his deeds.

He took the stairs to go down one floor and walked, without knocking, into a tiny, dark room. The pale glow of some very old screens increased the illusory feeling of this situation. Mona, tall and muscular, with woman's curves that seemed out of place throughout Ark City, filled the space with her aura. The scent of roses, given off by her long, curly hair which looked like a wild mane in this city full of baldies, saturated the room. Dolick's head was spinning a little but he refrained from showing any sign of weakness in this hostile environment. His life and those of many others, including his Capitan Chloé, might depend on it.

Dolick set Gili down on the chair Flora, lieutenant of the Shadow Girls, pointed out for him. On a sign from Mona, Flora rolled up the Capitan's sleeve to give an easy access to the latter's arm and Doctor Liston stood up, a syringe in his hand.

Dolick couldn't help but recoil. It was one thing to hand a fellow soldier over to be interrogated, moreover a comrade in arms. The stakes demanded this sacrifice and Gili was quite smart, tough and trained to be able to endure torture long enough for the others to find Capitan Chloé. But resorting to drug was a completely different matter. Dolick had already witnessed chemical torture sessions that led to death or worse and Gili didn't deserve this.

Right after the injection, Dr. Liston turned toward Dolick. They looked at each other for a moment, two faces devoid of expression. Then something stirred under the doctor's shirt who went out in a hurry. Clara was hidden there, nice and warm, Dolick had no doubt about it. The doctor-daddy had not had the heart to part with her in order to carry out his work and this trivial idea was enough to set the soldier's mind at peace.

Suzanna, who was standing a few steps away, moved forward and both Dolick and her went out to prepare the raid. Two dozen people wouldn't be too many to face the night outside the walls.

In the end, Dolick had gotten off lightly. Mona would extract secrets only from Gili who knew little more than a common soldier, and he himself could go outside looking for his Capitan.

He spared a thought for Gili. In his view, she was already dead, fallen on the battlefield like so many others. She was already a traitor to the City, the Special Forces would not be surprised if, later on, they digged up the information she supposedly leaked. Mona would certainly make better use of it than other No-lights he had encountered in the past, in his already long military career. From experience, women made good leaders. Too bad for Gili, she had been doing pretty well up until then.

Bertille watched Suzanna and the soldier go out of the room. She forced herself to unclench her fists and to appear casual, almost blasé. Not knowing what to do with her hands, shaking with suppressed anger, she wiped the sweat that beaded her brow. Why did Mona absolutely insisted on interrogating the prisoners in this ridiculously stifling cubby? And this heady perfume was certainly meant to conceal volatile poisonous chemical compounds. How else could you explain the restlessness that was obvious on almost every face? It was high time to put that schemer Mona aside, she had been running the Shadows group for far too long.

Bertille gave Mona a sidelong look. The latter had the annoying tendency to guess what her subordinates thought, as if she could read their minds, and that made her all the more dangerous. Indeed, ousting the cursed Daphné had required years of preparation for Bertille and ever since then Mona wouldn't rest until she found the mole.

Despite extreme caution, Bertille felt under surveillance. Something in Mona's eyes told her that she was no longer trusted. Proof, if any were needed, was in the obvious disavowal that lieutenant Bertille extrapolated from both the choice of her rival Flora to conduct the interrogation and the selection of Suzanna, Daphné's successor, to lead the volunteers during the raid outside. These two missions should have been her own. Bertille secretly swore that this double affront would not remain unpunished.

Bertille was chewing over her revenge, which went hand in hand with her takeover. She needed help and the perfect time to deliver a message to "Admiral N." would be during the debriefing on the following morning. A round trip to the third gate of the shadows to send a dove and that would do the trick. Mr N provided the birds, nothing could be easier or more convenient for Bertille who didn't need to go very far and did not have to worry about the time or place for a secret meeting with her contact. "Admiral Nelson", as Bertille liked to call him, was a mysterious man, but he always managed to provide what was asked of him in exchange for petty theft during the raids in the City.

The night wore on and the prisoner of the Shadow Girls had yet to move. She certainly didn't struggle at all. Although she was bound to her chair, the ropes seemed quite useless, except to prevent her from falling on the floor. Bertille wondered how one could hold on so long with the head bent over one shoulder. Did the soldier, Dolick, break her neck to prevent her from speaking? Did the syringe of Doctor Nicolas contain anything other than truth serum?

In the darkness, each minute seemed to drag on and on endlessly. Bertille's eyes'd had ample time to adapt to the low brightness. And she saw a trickle of saliva at the corner of the prisoner's lips. Was it a sign of life or death? Unable to surmise anything, she stared at Flora while seething, inwardly, with impatience. She was about to harshly admonish her when Mona stepped forward to check the prisoner's pupils.