the planet.
Which, Jenny knew in all their hearts, was what they were. It’s just sometimes
certain radical idiots got in the way. Sometimes, real bad people used “The
Fight” as a personal vendetta and things got out of hand. Innocent people died.
That wasn’t the way Impurity5 operated.
“Go on, tell me now.”
“Be quiet, dickhead, and focus on
the job in hand.”
Randy opened his mouth, but
Zanzibar gave him a stern look, and Randy closed it again. The huge Asian had a
reputation. No. He had A Reputation. You didn’t mess with Zanzibar. Not
if you wanted to keep a hold of your kneecaps. Or your face.
Zanzibar threw Jenny a smile and
a shrug. Jenny replied with a nod, and got back behind her Long Lens. The
tankers were almost in, now. Behind her, there came a steady shring shring as
Meat Cleaver started sharpening his knives.
“What now?” said Randy. He was
impatient, full of energy. Sexual energy, from where Jenny was sitting.
“We wait,” said Jenny, settling
back. She looked around, and smiled. These were the moments she liked, revered.
The quiet times. Reflective. With her squad, her unit. The people in the world
she knew she could trust; but more, who were fighting alongside her to
achieve a common goal...
And what’s the goal, girl? came the voice of Nixa.
Jenny froze for a moment, as she
always did. Her eyes flickered around the group, wondering if any of them had
heard the words, or even seen her stiffen at the ghostly interruption. Meat
Cleaver was sharpening. Sick Note was smoking endlessly, a tiny smoke-extractor
on a ring on his index finger making sure no fumes escaped and gave even a hint
of their hide-hole. Flizz was seated in a corner, silent, watching, as she
always was. Randy had tried it on with Flizz first; Flizz was stunningly
beautiful, it had to be said, but when Randy persisted Flizz put a knife to his
groin and got in close and whispered, “I’ll cut it off, wide boy,” and Randy
got the message. To Randy, having a penisectomy was worse than death itself.
Randy was the sort of man who wore a Kevlar codpiece rather than a helmet. Or,
as he wittily put it, a helmet over his helmet. Nobody laughed.
The goal is to close down
Greenstar. To show them up as the liars they are. We want the toxicity gone
from our planet. We want our world back. No longer a tipping ground for the
crap of Manna. We want freedom. A clean planet. Clean air for our children.
Clean water to drink. We want the politicians to stop lying to us. We want The
Company to fuck off. We never asked for it, and the people of this world don’t
want it!
A noble goal, mocked Nixa. Every world wants
the same.
“Uh?” said Jenny.
Randy was staring at her, a
quizzical expression on his face. “I said, gorgeous girlfriend, what
games can we play whilst we wait?”
“We hired you to make bombs, not
to dick around,” said Jenny harshly. She was unsettled by Nixa. Nixa usually
only came at the time of sleep. Why was she here now? Haunting her during her
waking moments, and more importantly, when she was out on a mission?
“I know that,” said Randy,
smoothly, and Jenny looked into his eyes and for the first time she understood him. He was there, genuinely, out of support for their clean world
ideology. He was there to help. But... a leopard never changes its spots. What
Randy said and did; that was just the way he was. And Jenny would have to get
used to it, or kick him from the squad. And they were down Jones now; they
needed all the manpower they could get.
Jones. Gone, after his beating.
That had been four weeks ago...
Vanished! Self-discharged from
the hospital, he’d taken his kit and fucked off. Now, the whole incident sat
uneasy with Jenny. Something was wrong. Out of kilter. Jenny had a funny
feeling she hadn’t seen the last of him...
Still, the rest of the cell were
happy Jones was gone. He was like a maggot at the core of a fresh
Which, Jenny knew in all their hearts, was what they were. It’s just sometimes
certain radical idiots got in the way. Sometimes, real bad people used “The
Fight” as a personal vendetta and things got out of hand. Innocent people died.
That wasn’t the way Impurity5 operated.
“Go on, tell me now.”
“Be quiet, dickhead, and focus on
the job in hand.”
Randy opened his mouth, but
Zanzibar gave him a stern look, and Randy closed it again. The huge Asian had a
reputation. No. He had A Reputation. You didn’t mess with Zanzibar. Not
if you wanted to keep a hold of your kneecaps. Or your face.
Zanzibar threw Jenny a smile and
a shrug. Jenny replied with a nod, and got back behind her Long Lens. The
tankers were almost in, now. Behind her, there came a steady shring shring as
Meat Cleaver started sharpening his knives.
“What now?” said Randy. He was
impatient, full of energy. Sexual energy, from where Jenny was sitting.
“We wait,” said Jenny, settling
back. She looked around, and smiled. These were the moments she liked, revered.
The quiet times. Reflective. With her squad, her unit. The people in the world
she knew she could trust; but more, who were fighting alongside her to
achieve a common goal...
And what’s the goal, girl? came the voice of Nixa.
Jenny froze for a moment, as she
always did. Her eyes flickered around the group, wondering if any of them had
heard the words, or even seen her stiffen at the ghostly interruption. Meat
Cleaver was sharpening. Sick Note was smoking endlessly, a tiny smoke-extractor
on a ring on his index finger making sure no fumes escaped and gave even a hint
of their hide-hole. Flizz was seated in a corner, silent, watching, as she
always was. Randy had tried it on with Flizz first; Flizz was stunningly
beautiful, it had to be said, but when Randy persisted Flizz put a knife to his
groin and got in close and whispered, “I’ll cut it off, wide boy,” and Randy
got the message. To Randy, having a penisectomy was worse than death itself.
Randy was the sort of man who wore a Kevlar codpiece rather than a helmet. Or,
as he wittily put it, a helmet over his helmet. Nobody laughed.
The goal is to close down
Greenstar. To show them up as the liars they are. We want the toxicity gone
from our planet. We want our world back. No longer a tipping ground for the
crap of Manna. We want freedom. A clean planet. Clean air for our children.
Clean water to drink. We want the politicians to stop lying to us. We want The
Company to fuck off. We never asked for it, and the people of this world don’t
want it!
A noble goal, mocked Nixa. Every world wants
the same.
“Uh?” said Jenny.
Randy was staring at her, a
quizzical expression on his face. “I said, gorgeous girlfriend, what
games can we play whilst we wait?”
“We hired you to make bombs, not
to dick around,” said Jenny harshly. She was unsettled by Nixa. Nixa usually
only came at the time of sleep. Why was she here now? Haunting her during her
waking moments, and more importantly, when she was out on a mission?
“I know that,” said Randy,
smoothly, and Jenny looked into his eyes and for the first time she understood him. He was there, genuinely, out of support for their clean world
ideology. He was there to help. But... a leopard never changes its spots. What
Randy said and did; that was just the way he was. And Jenny would have to get
used to it, or kick him from the squad. And they were down Jones now; they
needed all the manpower they could get.
Jones. Gone, after his beating.
That had been four weeks ago...
Vanished! Self-discharged from
the hospital, he’d taken his kit and fucked off. Now, the whole incident sat
uneasy with Jenny. Something was wrong. Out of kilter. Jenny had a funny
feeling she hadn’t seen the last of him...
Still, the rest of the cell were
happy Jones was gone. He was like a maggot at the core of a fresh
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