Page 12 of Remnants: Disruption
“De Luca is in her office,” Martha says kindly, buzzing me past the security door and into the bullpen.
A few of the officers stare at me as I weave through the desks towards Percy’s closed door. Her promotion to lieutenant had come with an office. And that office had not come with a view. Not to fear, though, since the NCPD had so graciouslybequeathed her with a dWindow that had been programmed to show such sights like the ocean, mountains, or a calming forest.
Today’s paltry excuse for vitamin D was the mountain range that had to be somewhere much further west of the old American continent.
Which meant it was some fantastical, theorized version of what Europe or Asia might look like, were it not for the Disruptions.
“Morning,” I say, knocking on the door as I open it.
“You look worse,” Percy frowns looking up from her computer. “Why do you look worse?”
I suck at my teeth as I look down at myself. My blouse isn’t rumpled. My peacoat is clean. What I can see of my braid is tidy enough.
“Your face, Arya,” she says, standing and handing me a mirror from her desk drawer.
Sure enough, my eyes look red-rimmed. Had I not even put on makeup? And they look sunken around my gaunt face.
“I plead the fifth,” I grumble, handing the mirror back.
“We don’t have a fifth anymore. We haven’t had a fifth since the 1930s.”
“If we still use the old dating scheme, why do we bother with theAfter Disruptionone?”
“Because historians are fickle beasts,” she says quickly waving a hand at me. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Oh, but I’m so good at deflection,” I sigh, moving to sit in the chair across from her desk.
“You don’t look any better than you did this morning. Did you even sleep?”
It’s really not worth arguing with her. Not only is she a good detective, but she’s also known me long enough to know sleep and I aren’t well acquainted.
“I did, but I feel fine. I’m here and ready to work.”
Percy studies me with amber eyes. Her hair is pinned back again, like it had never been in that gorgeous, messy state.
“You’ll tell me if you start to feel worse?”
“Of course,” I lie easily. Because no I won’t. I won’t be more a burden on her and this department. I won’t let them lay a hand on me—Reliquary scanner or otherwise. “I got a few hours of sleep, though, so I’m okay.”
It feels awful to keep it all from her. From the only person I could consider a friend. From the one woman I want to consider more.
The fear of Containment is worth the isolation. That’s, at least, the way I rationalize it. And because I’m self-aware enough to know I’m fucked up, then it’s okay, right?
“Let’s get lunch first,” Percy says, standing, her inspection apparently over.
“I’m down,” I say, smiling genuinely for the first time in a few hours.
Chapter 8
Men
Twelve-Thirty P.M., October 22nd, 1030 A.D.
Religions adapted to the changing times. Only a thousand years allegedly passed between the death of Christ and the first Remnants. Another thousand years only cemented our dogma. Now, Remnants are seen as some amalgamation of God’s chosenand Satan’s condemned. I think we should just put them all down. God never intended to make these freaks.
Pope Michael V - 1027 A.D.
“Give me the daily, please,” I say to the barista at the NCPD cafe. She gives me a polite smile before busying herself.
