Chapter 2: Return (2)

Koin parked in the underground lot. Roche declined his offer to walk him upstairs, but barely made it out of the elevator on the third floor, where the Medical Department was, before someone stopped him.

The man was of average height, middle-aged, and dressed in a gray suit. Thin patches of hair clung to his scalp. His figure had softened a little, though his broad shoulders still hinted at a past spent keeping in shape. He was digging something out of a small metal tin with his index finger.

“Roche Linvanx? You don’t look anything like your sister.”

Roche knew him: Sanchez, the current Director of PAA.

He nodded.

Sanchez scooped out a dab of mint-scented ointment and slowly rubbed it into his temple. “Koin just sent me a video and a few pictures. Someone like you would be wasted in the Medical Department. The Operations Department is short-staffed right now.”

He moves fast, Roche thought.

“Don’t worry. I’ve already told Pester. Officially, you’ll still be part of the Medical Department. You’ll just be on loan to Operations for a while. Once we get some new people in, you can go back.”

“How does that sound?”

“I don’t mind. It’s all the same to me. As long as you don’t think it’ll hurt the organization’s reputation. People might say this is factionalism or nepotism, since my sister is the Department Head, after all.” Roche shrugged.

Sanchez looked up at him and smiled in a way that was hard to read. “That’s the one thing you don’t need to worry about. Even if they gossip in private, all they’ll say is how self-sacrificing the Linvanx family is.”

The elevator chimed.

Koin stepped out, a stack of files in his arms and the same cheerful grin on his face. “Fancy seeing you again, Mr. Linvanx. What a coincidence. So, I take it you’ve agreed to join my understaffed little team?”

Roche thought, I only agreed to join Operations. I never said I wanted to work with you. Still, he nodded.

“Excellent.” Koin sounded delighted. He shoved all the files into Roche’s arms, then produced a pen as if by magic. “I just borrowed these from the Medical Department. Sign them, and I’ll give you a quick rundown of PAA’s organizational structure. Then we’ll go on patrol so you can get a feel for the job.”

Some unlucky doctor had just lost a pen. It wasn’t a problem. Before long, he’d get it back twice over from someone else. Though Roche had forgotten a lot, he remembered that much quite clearly. Maybe because he hadn’t managed to keep hold of a pen for more than a month since starting medical school.

The introduction didn’t take long. Koin spent the whole time wandering from one topic to another, talking nonsense. Roche had to rely on the map and handbook himself. PAA was divided into several departments: Administration, Management, Finance, Procurement, and Technology. None of them had much to do with him. The departments field staff like him dealt with most often were Medical and Equipment, along with Operations, where they belonged.

Operations, as the name suggested, was responsible for cleaning up those damned Anomalous Entities—and for cleaning up people who had undergone a Mutation.

Most of the building was clearly marked. But when they reached a heavily guarded underground corridor, Koin suddenly raised a hand to stop Roche. Roche looked down at the handbook. That section was blank. There was no information about the corridor.

“Oh, they keep some Anomalous Entities down here for research. It’s no secret. There are also people who’ve been affected by Anomalies, but it’s fine. Once they’re confirmed harmless, they can be released.” Koin waved it off. “I know it sounds a little inhumane, but the previous Director, Cosmo, pushed it through despite all the pressure. The Ethics Committee is full of people who do nothing but collect their paychecks…”

Roche stopped. He looked as if he’d missed a step on the stairs, his expression caught between shock and confusion.

“Cosmo… Who’s that?”

“I just told you he was the previous Director. That is strange. I thought you two knew each other well. He was close to the Linvanx family when he was alive.”

“When he was alive?”

“Oh, right. He died,” Koin said without a trace of sympathy. “About six months ago. They said it was a car accident.”

Roche couldn’t remember anything about Cosmo, but for no reason he could explain, he suddenly couldn’t breathe. His fingers went numb. He felt sick. He wanted to throw up.

No, I know what’s happening. I’m hyperventilating. That’s caused respiratory alkalosis. I need something to breathe into, preferably a plastic bag, so I can take in more carbon dioxide.

He crouched down, covering his mouth and nose, and tried to control his breathing. But he couldn’t explain why this was happening to him, or where the surge of emotion had come from—the unbearable anger and grief he couldn’t put into words.

Koin didn’t move or comment. He simply watched Roche in silence, as though Roche were an obstacle in his way.

“I shouldn’t have brought it up. Sorry.” After a long while, he added the apology stiffly, then hauled Roche, who had begun to recover, back to his feet. Turning, he headed for the underground parking lot. Roche went with him, but his gaze remained fixed on the corridor. He knew this feeling. He knew what it meant.

Don’t. Don’t fall into a flashback now.

Fluorescent lights. An ampoule. The smell of disinfectant. An IV stand. A wall painted half white, half green. Blurred figures in white coats coming and going. A window frame. The night wind. A cold snap. A fever and pain that seemed capable of tearing his body apart. Soda. Coffee. The bitter taste of cigarettes. A man in black sitting beside his bed. A sigh. A cold kiss.

Roche shook his head hard, forcing himself to focus on the present. As if surfacing from underwater, he opened his eyes and found himself in the underground parking lot. Koin had already opened the car door.

“You all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Good. You might be hard to kill, but if you suddenly start having an episode in the middle of a mission, even I’d have trouble dealing with it.”

Koin offered him another lollipop. This time, Roche didn’t refuse.

The car started. Roche sat in the passenger seat. The moment they drove out of the garage, the bright light made him close his eyes. The setting sun painted a scorching red across his eyelids, and even his back teeth began to ache ominously.

When he opened his eyes again, trees were swaying past in the car’s windows. Carlton was a city surrounded by banyan trees and jacarandas. The green canopy rippled above them like a sea, swaying gently as they drove. By the time they passed through it, the car had reached a narrow mountain road nearby. Cool evening shadows dappled the way, and the lights of a summer camp shone in the distance.

They were already late. Campol Summer Camp greeted them with a blood-red window and the sight of a corpse standing in the room on nothing but its two legs. Blood, scraps of flesh, and entrails sprawled across the floor in every direction. Gray-white brain matter speckled the ceiling. Several loops of intestine dangled from a fluorescent light, swaying gently.

“This is a bit of a problem,” Koin said, scratching his head. “I came here on a report that I should arrest a Mr. Morian for illegal organizing and conducting religious activities without a permit. Now he’s gone and blown himself up. Sir, do you have any idea what happened?”

The black-haired man at the center of the explosion took off his bloodstained glasses and wiped them. He looked about their age, with a pale face, scruffy beard, and dark circles under his eyes. He’d clearly been having an exceptionally rough time for a long while. Even covered in blood, with bits of flesh clinging to his gray uniform, Koin couldn’t help noticing his striking deep green eyes.

“Good evening, Roche. It’s been a long time. I’m glad to see you’re doing well. And good evening to you, blond gentleman whose name I don’t know.” The man spoke calmly, raising both hands as he turned to face them. “I think you can arrest me now.”