Chapter Eleven: The Stench of Deceit

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The woman looked at the stumps where her hands had been and let out a high pitched shriek. It welled up from deep inside her and burst out like a fountain. She sank to her knees and lifted the stumps to her face. Her hair formed a curtain around her head as she slowly slumped forwards, but the screams that tore through the cool night air were unending. 

The instant the woman fell to her knees, Regan knew that the connection to whoever was controlling her had been severed. She stood, holding her sword unsheathed at her side and waited. The pain in her leg pulsed up and down with each beat of her heart. She could feel the stinging spreading strangely through her veins, down her leg and into her foot. 

The screams behind her started to subside as the shock took hold, and the woman descended into dull, broken sobbing. 

Regan looked up at the dark shape of one of the air ducts. 

'Are you going to lie up there all night?' she said. 

'How did you detect me? I was sure I made no sound.' 

A girl stood up on top of the duct and outlined herself against the moonlight. Regan could see her wiry muscles straining through the material of her black leotard and she had shaved her head completely bald. She jumped down lightly, her padded shoes making a soft tap on the concrete. 

'Your desire to see blood gave you away.' 

The girl sniggered. 'Don't give me that "swordsman's spirit" crap.' 

'The light was behind you when you lifted you head to take a look, moron. I didn't hear you, I saw you.' 

'Oh.' 

The girl walked sinuously towards her across the rooftop. Regan noticed the red circle with three vertical slashes painted onto her chest. 

'Unity transporter Nwoye,' she introduced herself. 'Also called Puppetmaster.' 

'Does anyone actually call you Puppetmaster, or did you come up with that one for yourself?' 

Nwoye scratched her head. 'I'd been told you were damn rude.' 

'Stick around. I get worse. If you're a transporter, what are you here to transport?' 

Regan looked down at her sword hand. Unbidden, it slowly rose until it was at shoulder height. She tried to will it down, but it was as if the connection between her brain and her arm had been severed. 

'Guess,' said Nwoye. 

'I suppose I walked into that one.' 

'If you'd a been a little bit smarter, you would have started worrying when your fingers went numb. Why do you think I'd come out unarmed if I didn't have a plan?' 

The light breeze pulled at Regan's clothes and made her skirt flutter. Her other hand started to rise. She didn't bother to resist it. Eventually, she stood with both arms outstretched. She watched Nwoye silently. 

'It would be so easy to kill you now,' Nwoye said. 'One push would be all I needed to get you to impale yourself on your own sword.' 

'So do it then.' 

'You're pretty hardcore, I'll give you that, but that's not what I came here for. More Unity transporters are on their way to get you, so just be a good girl and stay there.' 

'You probably shouldn't have told me that.' 

Nwoye shrugged. 'Ain't going to make a hell of a difference now.' 

She sank down until she was sitting cross legged on the ground and stretched languidly. Regan gave an involuntary twitch as another wave of pain coursed up from her thigh and into her body. Nwoye opened one eye. 

'Sorry about that. That's the backup, backup plan.' 

'Poison. I wondered why it felt like my veins were filled with acid.' 

'See what I mean when I said it didn't make a difference? Damned if you do, damned if you don't.' 

They faced each other in silence for a few moments. 

'You've got a powerful craft,' said Regan. 'Your Unity friends are probably going to be pretty sad when you die.' 

Nwoye ignored Regan and leaned to look past her. 

'Hey,' she said. 'It looks like my old puppet is dead.' 

Regan looked over shoulder at the crumpled mass of shadow behind her. It was completely still. 

'She was dead the second you took control of her.' 

'It would have been kinder to kill her straight off.' 

'Perhaps, but she showed me how to break your craft.' 

'You talk pretty big, but I'm not really impressed. They told me you were some kind of prodigy silencer, but I just don't see it.'

***

Nwoye shivered in the wind. Her leotard provided almost no warmth and the night was getting colder. The other transporters were taking longer than she'd hoped. She looked at Regan. Although she was immobilised, Regan's steady gaze was predatory. Nwoye looked away. The silencer made her feel like someone was pouring icy water down her spine. 

'I think the wind is changing,' said Regan. 

Nwoye felt her skin tingle, but she forced her face to remain impassive. 

'I'm not really a small talk kind of girl,' she said. 

'At first I thought it might be string, or hair or something,' said Regan. 'You definitely try to push that idea with your nickname. Then I thought that it might be some kind of telepathy. It shouldn't have taken me so long time to work it out.' 

Nwoye got to her feet. 

'Shut up,' she said. 'I'm tired you your damn voice.' 

'It's pheromones,' said Regan. 'Carried on the wind. You're like some human bee that goes around secreting chemicals to change people's behaviour.' 

Nwoye bunched her fists, but she didn't move. Regan's stare held her in place. 

'It doesn't matter if you've worked it out,' she said. 'You're still just as stuck.' 

Little by little, Regan's hands started to descend. A wave of nausea washed over Nwoye as she watched them. This had never happened before. She concentrated and released another cloud of invisible chemicals, but Regan's hands continued to drop. 

'It doesn't matter,' Nwoye said quietly. 'You're still dead.' 

'So are you.' 

Nwoye turned to run. She could feel the terror rising inside her stomach as she sprinted for the open hatch that led away from the roof and to freedom. The cold night air whipped against her face, and her soft shoes made almost no sound as she fled. When the hatch was only a few steps away, she tensed and prepared to jump. 

Regan's sword exploded through her chest, emerging through the Unity symbol on her leotard. Nwoye's head lolled back until she was looking straight up at the stars. Her mouth was open, locked in her last silent scream. She twitched as Regan twisted the blade, but she was already dead.

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