Opus Veda

Two girls cry by the stairs. One looks down. One stares ahead. The terrorists four walk out the front door.

They do not acknowledge the girls.

The fifth does. Their eyes meet, though black mirrors cover hers.

Her head spins. Her body sways and threatens to fall. And if Opal could see through the mask, see Kasia's real eyes, she would see no more soul in them than the ones in front.

Nothing remained.

Kasia awoke screaming. She turned to Esmé trembling with sweat. Esmé's bed was empty.

Ali's wailing called into Kasia's ear like a seashell. She ran to the toilet and vomited in it. The froth in the bowl reminded her of the jacuzzi. She tumbled back and ran back out.

Andrez was waiting for her, relaxed in the armchair.

"Join me."

Kasia composed herself and skittered to the sofa, holding her stomach. Andrez passed her a glass of water.

"I threw up on my first too. I wasn't with Opus Veda yet, though the few of them around then liked my style enough to get in touch. I couldn't believe they'd figured it out."

Kasia gave no response. Andrez inclined his head.

"Will you tell me how you feel?"

"…you wouldn't like the answer."

"I wouldn't like it if you weren't affected. Your first contract should hit you hard, as ours did for us. The point isn't to remove your emotions, it's to know how to manage them as they arise."

Andrez waited. Again no response.

"Do you want to stay with us?"

Kasia bit her lip. Her head shook.

"I-"

"Don't say anything. It's okay. It's okay to want to leave Katarzyna. Perhaps you think Ali's death was too much."

Kasia recalled the look Opal gave her as she abandoned the girl to an orphan's life. No one had looked at Kasia like she was a monster before then.

"Those girls…"

"They didn't deserve it, did they? Neither did Eva, and Eva now has a chance at a better life. Surely they do too?

We have eyes on Eva, by the way. She's staying with Gemma Alderton. I hear Gemma's fiancé is particularly good with her. She is well."

Andrez closed his eyes, thinking carefully.

"After we split up, I went for a drive. Went and had a look at Kendi Estate. They… are not well. Their recent financial strain pushed a few more of them over the edge. Old Chanel unfortunately passed away. Lung cancer. Another threw themselves off the roof. It appears a certain Jason is planning to jump next.

And perhaps you think Ali's death was too much...

We are not good people, Katarzyna. And we cannot deny we chose this. But as I've already told you, being a good person isn't enough anymore."

Still nothing. He reached for the bookshelf, taking its single volume.

"You finished Shock Doctrine? Tell me your thoughts?"

Kasia sipped her water and wiped her mouth, "I think I'm not as clever as you… I get the point though: people use bad times to put bad things through."

"When Naomi Klein wrote that, the battle was between left and right wing. A bit late for them now though… the conservatives should have realised they'd need to turn on the billionaires eventually; the progressives should have realised it doesn't matter if you're speaking the truth if no one likes you. If they could have seen our era, seen their fate was to be equal in defeat, would they have done any better?"

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"If you don't mind, I'd be up for another book… I liked it."

Andrez lit up. He already had one in his hand.

"Animal Farm by George Orwell. A quicker read. It'll teach you a thing or two about revolutions."

Kasia took it with a thin smile.

"You should give me one about relationships next."

"Oh? Would you like one? A relationship?"

"I think if I found one it would be too late now anyway. I wouldn't even know what to look for," Kasia chuckled ruefully, "I may have had a crush on Varma when I met him."

"He's a good looking guy. You wouldn't want to put a mask on him…" Andrez raised his brow and nodded, "I never met anyone either, never could escape childhood. My parents were psychiatrists. It's one of those great contradictions of life: a person of psychology should make a great parent in theory. And as I slowly learnt, five billion women have a way of casting one mother's shadow."

Kasia's chest rose. She sat forward.

"I want to stay with you."

Andrez lifted his head. He smiled wide, for the first time showing Kasia a flawless set of teeth.

"I am glad to hear you ask that."

* * *

Days remained. Kasia spoke little, her emotions repressed by her deed. The team gave her space but training had to continue. Sima Ren kept her fit, adding parkour to her regime. Esmé ensured she ate and slept. Maqbool was refreshingly informal, joking with her in a way she imagined an uncle might.

Andrez spent some breakfasts with her chatting about hobbies and music. He wrote poetry, she liked pianos, and had sometimes longed to have one. At Andrez's behest she sent him a playlist of her favourite Chopin recordings. He made the effort to listen to it.

The online world - a world Kasia hadn't accessed for weeks - ebbed away. Her ability to connect with others improved. She recognised their feelings and resonated with them. Her repressions faded.

Weapon training took most of her time. They moved from the gym studio to a cellar under a closed pub and worked in uniform, drilling knives, blades, and clubs. Kasia received a taser. She still struggled with accuracy, but could shoot from the wrist in close quarters.

She learnt the prevailing techniques of England's three factions. With so few firearms they relied on riot tactics, moving forward behind shields and attempting to open the opponent's wall up. Explosives were too advanced for Kasia to learn; ballistic shields too heavy. She would have a clear riot shield, covering her neck to her knees from everything but bullets. Her free arm would have two taser rounds, and then her blades to rely on.

Her mask did less that everyone else's, with only eye and ear protection to protect her from their blinding attacks. She discovered a tube under its jawline. Maqbool solemnly informed her it contained cyanide; he told her when and how to take it. It reminded Kasia of her suicide plan, but she wanted to wait.

The reality of how hard her team worked made Kasia respect them more. Their ability to outplay their enemies had looked so effortless. It was anything but. She watched them bond with strange intimacy. They held eye contact, felt comfortable near each other, touched. Friends in the oldest sense. Andrez kept a healthy formality. Maqbool, the oldest of the group, was cheerful and easy to talk to. Sima Ren was stern and proper, but could buzz when someone impressed him. Only Andrez used Sima Ren's full name, the rest respected his courtesy name, unless Maqbool wanted to annoy him.

It was Esmé who surprised Kasia. Still warm and caring, but she became shyer in a group, talking up when she could offer help, later mentioning her thoughts if alone with someone else. Kasia always wanted to be the one she picked. Catching a vulnerable detail about her made Esmé seem even nicer.

* * *

The night before the contract came. Maqbool, Sima Ren, and Kasia watched TV. An American minstrel troupe performed on it, singing the old viral hit Trumping Black Lives Matter. Sima Ren smiled and tapped along to the beat. Kasia and Maqbool watched uncomfortably.

Esmé and Andrez arrived carrying bags of Chinese takeaway. Andrez sighed at the TV.

"Sīmǎ Rén, I hardly think this is appropriate to watch."

"It was not me!" Sima Ren protested at Maqbool, who laughed him off.

"Go on Zilong, what you wanna put on?"

"I told you! We will watch Shìjiè mòrì. I would like Kasia to see it. Kasia!" he swooped his hand through the air, "an asteroid heads for earth. The Chinese Xīn Hán send two space ships to defeat it. The world looks to them for safety, as they should. There is love and sacrifice, and a powerful rock ballad."

"Alright!" Kasia beamed, "I want to watch it."

He flicked the channel over, "a great film. I watched with my father, a great man. He gave me my name Zilóng after his favourite warrior. I try to be like Zilóng, and my father."

They set the table and ate. The film played but they chatted over it. Maqbool and Sima Ren argued about the Superleague. Northumbria were the favourite to win but Maqbool felt they climbed the tables too quickly without consolidating their hold. Sima Ren didn't care: even Bayern Munich hadn't stopped Northumbria's forward three, and most of the other top teams skimped on defence. Andrez and Esmé discussed attachment theory, an enduring model of understanding relationships. Andrez hated it - the way its adherents acted as if they'd unlocked the entirety of the human condition. Esmé tried to defend them in good faith, but even she was struggling.

Kasia sat between everyone and listened. She became overwhelmed. The normalcy, the friendliness, the human connection. She had never experienced it before. Now it was here, she couldn't understand it.

She hid behind Esmé's back and sobbed. The conversations paused. Maqbool patted Kasia's arm. Sima Ren made a contemplative look. Esmé sighed affectionately and leant her head into Kasia's.

Andrez motioned for them to give Kasia time. They continued eating and chatting. Kasia stayed resting behind Esmé, savouring every second of it.