Hydra Heart

V

Chapter V: Interior Decorator

The lady said nothing more than, "come in." Florence did as she said. The woman was about his age, in her seventies, and still looked unnerved by his presence. The wooden floors and shelves were dusty, and the kitchen table was as worn as everything else. Her pot on the stove was dented and rusty (hopefully only on the outside). Two things were perfectly clean: a grand piano and an electric guitar, both of which were complemented by stacks of sheet music.

Florence asked, "Do you mind if I...?" and gestured at the piano. She nodded and motioned for him to go ahead. In the meantime, she took the pot off of the stove and prepared something, but Florence was too distracted to notice. He tickled the ivories, teasing a melody that he worried he had forgotten. He began playing one of the only songs he knew, but after a few seconds, he missed a note.

The dissonance rang out through the cottage, and the lady immediately noticed. She walked over to him, and then sat on the bench with him. She played the opening of the song, just as he had, but then paused when she got to where he had made a mistake. She then took his ring finger and moved it to the correct key. Fixing the issue made both of their ears happy. The lady slid leftward on the bench, then started playing bass for his treble. They both smiled as their play grew more in sync. After another minute, the song was over.

"My name is Macy, yours?"

"I am the Proc--" he reconsidered. "You can call me Florence."

"It's nice to meet you." She sat him down at her table, where there were only two seats. "So, what brings you here? How did you find me?"

"I followed your bird. I came here because it stole something of mine, though I'm sure the handsome creature meant nothing by it."

Macy frowned slightly. "Your Kit?"

"Yes" He flicked his wrist, calling it back to him. "But, all's well that ends well. I won't hold a grudge, if you tell me why this incident has occured."

She tapped her chin. "Would you like to hear my story?"

"I'd love to."

"Then, tell me yours first."

"Well," Florence began, "I live in the basement of some very powerful Kit users, and I'm part of a secret society that needs to know why so many Kits have disappeared."

"Horizon Core, living with the Cremsillian Kit Organization?"

He was caught off guard. The Organization was common knowledge, but not the Horizon Core. "How did you know?"

Macy laughed. "I'm part of a secret organization that knows all the other secret organizations without being known itself."

Florence decided to save his more trivial questions for later. "So, what are you doing snatching my Kit?"

"Get comfortable," Macy insisted. "It's a long story. Do you remember how, during the war, no nuclear weapons were fired, despite so many nation's access to them? In fact, you're probably one of the only people I've talked to in the last twenty years who remembers China, the United States, Russia, Iran, India..." She trailed off. Florence nodded his head.

"Well, there's a reason for this. A couple of friends of mine stopped the apocalypse through a variety of means, and now we don't have a nuclear winter. You can thank me later. But, the point of this story is that I don't think that anybody should have that much power, hence the disarmament."

Florence understood. "So, you plan to apply your disarmament to Kits as well."

She tapped her nose. "Yes. One day, my albatross, Valkyrie, came to me, and I realized it was my Kit. At first I laughed at the irony, but then it started working. My albatross started fetching Kits, and I realized I could destroy them, these supposedly immutable objects."

Of course, a Kit that can fly has no need for a Proctor. That's why none of the Horizon Core knew about this. He asked aloud, "So, you did?"

"At first. Then, I consulted my secret organization, and we decided to start hoarding them. The hearing on what to do with the dozens I've collected is in two days. You have impeccable timing. I suppose if you'd like to appeal your case to them, you may."

"Thank you."
"I'll have to let them know a stranger will be in our midst, which calls for certain protocol, but someone as important as I am..." She gave a cheeky smile. "Can surely pull some strings and get it done."

--

The two had travelled together all the way to the disclosed meeting place of the [redacted] organization. At a certain distance, Florence was blindfolded, and he was searched at the very beginning for tracking equipment. He could feel himself being led underground, and only had his blindfold removed when he was in a rest area, where he and Macy would be spending the night.

He shot for the moon and asked, "May I see the Kits before they are destroyed? I have to do some last rites."

"I'll sneak you in." Macy was showing a flattering bias towards him.

All the Kits were laid out on a wide table, and Florence felt... nothing. These... aren't Kits, he said to himself. These are objects with nothing in them. The SOLE isn't here, it's... gone? Somewhere else?

He knelt for a little longer in front of the objects, trying to really sell stoicism, but his mind was dashing between ideas about what had happened to all these Kits. Eventually, he got up, and asked to be blindfolded again.

"Will you walk with me somewhere? Just any body of water would be nice." He was obliged by Macy.

--

He dipped his toes in the cold water of, from the smell, what he guessed was a lake. Macy sat next to him. "Are you okay? Is this like a funeral for you?"

"No, it's just... odd." Florence said with finality. Macy joined him in sticking a foot in the water. She wrapped an arm around him and drew him near. He leaned into the embrace and rested his head in the crook of her neck.

Something struck his foot. He was still wearing his blindfold, so he reached down and felt for what it was. Then, it hit him, he had touched the conscience of a Kit.

He opened up communication with it. He couldn't suppress a smile and a laugh; he was overflowing with glee at the fact that he had found a new Kit. Not an old Kit that had changed, not a Kit that had been lost, it was new. It was as if the Earth had made a new one, and it had ended up in his hands, one of the only people who could get it to where it needed to be. It was precious.

"Why are you still holding that random Caudecus? It looks tarnished, and I don't know how it's floating." Macy seemed confused.

"Oh, let's just say I'm recycling," Florence smiled. He pocketed the object. "Let's head back to the room."

--

The next day, in front of a council of powerful strangers, Florence testified. "Yeah, you can do whatever you want with those..." He lingered on the lie he was about to tell, "Kits... Farewell."

--

Back at the cottage, Florence prepared to say a goodbye to Macy. Together they had prepared some meals and water for his return journey. She dawdled on the bow of his boat, preventing him from leaving.

"I don't suppose your bird delivers letters?" Florence asked.