Opus Veda

The sun rose on the nineties. A recap of 2089 trended; a reel of highlights, a poor-taste fable ignoring the miserable dirge of real life, the groaning public bearing the injustices wrought by three factions.

Despite algorithmic insistence, the recap received poor engagement. The public wanted to look ahead to the next decade - England split Red and Blue, Wales breaking free, China keeping to its hands-off policy. It was as close to peace as the public felt they could get.

Kasia had no idea what would happen. She finished washing and viewed herself in the mirror. A smooth white groove ran over her breast. She ran a finger along it. Varma had entered her life with a handshake and left it with a sabre strike; a permanent scar. Kasia had soon got him back though, her fourth kill in as many months. How many would follow?

She dressed and made breakfast.

Food running low. No contact from anyone. No connection to the internet. One very specific instruction not to step outside. Kasia stirred boiling water into the congee pot and batted powdery lumps until a thick gloop remained. She ate at the mahjong table.

Christmas day bothered her. She couldn't remember it, only awaking on Boxing Day. Her sight had adjusted to find two plague masked insurgents checking her body like crows. She was in a GP surgery's closet, lit by a dangling construction lamp. They gave her a crutch, a tray of pills, and a warning of post-anaesthesia sickness. Kasia hobbled back to her safehouse in civilian clothes, alone and unguarded.

Since then her sickness had been relentless. And it was the only thing capable of puncturing her grief. Seven days alone. She slept in the room she had once shared with her friend. One night she lay in Esmé's bed, for a minute, until the smell overpowered her. Kasia shoved the sheets in a cupboard but even that wasn't enough. The temptation to cling on to any reminder paralysed all other thoughts. Kasia filled the bath with bleached water and washed the reminder away.

Then she drenched the mattress. The futon frame she pulled apart and slid under her own bed. And now the sheets chemical stench reminded Kasia she'd thrown the last memento of Esmé away. More grief, of another kind. One Kasia was to blame for. She dumped everything in the dining room - a room she otherwise avoided. Ever since, the door dividing them haunted her. She pulled the handle off as if it could prevent her getting through.

But the smell remained in the bedroom. Kasia moved into the bathroom and slept there. Her days were spent playing mahjong solitaire on the green felt table. She finished Animal Farm - Andrez's second book recommendation, wherever he was. She propped up the ivory mahjong pieces and pretended they were old contacts - Zilong and Esmé, Imany and Sermon, Misha and Joey, Curtis, Zenia, Luca, Eva. In her hands they spoke. She told them things she should have said before. It made her happy.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Only on New Year's Day did her phone ping. A message from Surveillance summoning her to the nearest park. Kasia stretched her tired body, and with a deep, relieved inhale, stepped out into the misty dawn.

* * *

The fog was dense enough to obscure the park's border. A lone figure sat on a bench facing away from her. Kasia approached; the figure kept looking forward. He appeared as depressed as she felt. Kasia sat with him and hunched over to warm herself. Andrez's posture was rigid and still, unfazed by such petty issues as English weather. He squinted into the sky.

"How are you recovering, Katarzyna?"

"I'm fine, nearly back to strength. How's everyone else?"

"I was able to visit Maqbool this morning. He's in a worse shape than we are, physically and mentally. Luis is extracting himself from his placement and just as well - I don't think he'd keep the facade up for much longer," Andrez's eyes lowered back down to earth, resentful and disappointed, "400 of ours died. One in three. Just as many are seriously injured, some for life."

Kasia picked at her cuffs. She had nothing useful to say.

"I guess... we won at least, didn't we?"

Andrez's eyes were on her. Searching her. He formed a thin smile. Sympathy.

"You were exceptional. And you saved my life! I hope, in exchange, this will do," he handed her a note. On it were two addresses. The first, for a crematorium. Andrez flicked his head at it.

"Those who died at the revolution's Morden Base are interred there. Their ashes are available for friends and family to collect. Imany is amongst them. I know it is a small consolation."

Kasia stroked the lines of text. Her fingers hovered to the second address. Andrez continued.

"An orphanage. If you were to visit this Wednesday, you'd-"

"I know who I'd find there," Kasia stopped, surprised by her abruptness; she tried smiling, "thank you Andrez…"

"Not all news I have for you is good my love. Your old revolutionary contacts were amongst the dead at the palace," Andrez paused, "including Sermon."

Kasia's head hung. She had expected it was so, but the news still struck her stomach even when everything else was so numb.

"How did he die..."

Andrez's chest rose. The question caught him off guard. Seconds passed as he considered an answer.

As he considered lying. Andrez wanted to - sparing himself from revealing ugly reality to one of the only people he cared about. He considered Kasia's future. Though the truth would most likely turn her away, it was better to reveal everything now, than risk her finding out in the midst of Opus Veda's ranks.

He composed himself.

"I killed him. I gave him a chance to back down and he refused. Patience was not a luxury we had, and a chance was more than any of his allies received. We are all accountable for the choices we make."

Kasia said nothing. Andrez expected nothing. He had one point left.

"You have a choice to make now as well. Will you stay with us, or go back to where you were and try again? Either choice is unlikely to arise again. You need to assume they won't. We are a family here, but you still have one living out there. Choosing one, costs you the other."

Again Kasia said nothing. Andrez sighed and stood up.

"Our section meets this Wednesday. A new year celebration for ourselves, and a farewell to those we lost. If you're staying with us, be at the safehouse then. If you leave us, you will need to vacate it by then. We will send payment for your work before then - enough to last 6 months even if you must find a new home.

Take care, Kasia."

He walked away, turning back once before fog separated them. The lone figure stayed on the bench, facing away from him.