The Renegade

Chapter 8: The Chair of Impending Doom

Maansi placed her hands on her hips. "Well? What is it?"
"I don't know! You need to give me more time."
Maansi inched closer. "Answer me dam it."
"I'll never tell!"
"You bet your ass you will."
"I bet my ass already, it's gone," I tease.
"Well you know what? That doesn't matter. Just tell me your answer!"
I glance around the room. I recognized all of these tools and machines of being used at a eye doctor's office. "I need time. Something as important as thing just can't be sprung on me like this!"
"You wanna know my answer?"
"...Sure?"
Maansi pauses for a second before saying, "Turtle."
I snort, "What kind of a code name is that?"
"An amazing one," she exclaims. "Now what will yours be?"
"Oat," I blurt out.
"Oat!?" Maansi snorts. "Alright. You sure about that?"
"Should I care?"
Maansi's still chuckling, "Well, unless some kind of emergency where you identity has been found out or some dumb crap like that, it will never change."
"Well. I don't really care."
"Really," she says, raising her eyebrows in shock.
"Nope."
She scribbles something on a paper and hands it to me. "Here," she declared. "A list of all of the people and their codenames. I would look over it and memorize everyone's names if I were you."

"Who is-" I start to say, before I'm interrupted by the door closing shut. I look up to see the man from the dining hall. Back there, after the man first barged in and Nikki told me he would kill me, she laughed it off and told me she were joking. Turns out, he's another one of the doctors. Most squads have their own, personal, 24/7, around the clock doctors. This man, however, was a doctor for all of the squadrons. Apparently, he's a dentist and optometrist, along with a plastic surgeon of sorts. For undercover missions, that is.
"Ulysses," Maansi says, pointing at the man. Ulysses nods and goes to push up invisible glasses. He quietly swears to himself and chuckles.
"Still getting used to the contacts," he says.
"Speaking of," Maansi cuts in. "For missions, your going to have to wear contacts. If you're here, your free to wear your glasses. But unless you want to risk the chance of breaking your glasses in battle, I'd advise against it.
"Besides that, we're going to need to cut your hair. Once again for yours- and others- safety."
Ulysses coughs, "Yes, well, here are your contacts." He holds two hands out to me, one hand holds a worn-out contact case with white and green holders. The other hand has two capsules that presumably held the thin slices of plastic. I hesitantly take them, and as soon as they left the surface of Ulysses' hand, he stood up. "Well, Nikki here can help you put in your contacts. Assuming you have never had them before, of course." I shake my head and he nods. He turns to Maansi, "Call me when they're both in. You know the procedure." Maansi nods and Ulysses exits the room.
"Alright. So. Uh." Maansi turns and grabs a mirror to place on the table in front of me. She points to the sink, "Unless you want your eyes to get infected, I'd wash your hands."
I remember them teaching me of the old customs before the war. You know. Before everything went to shit. They used to sing a song while they were washing their hands. Usually it lasted twenty seconds, but if I recall correctly, it was a song that was sung on a birth day.
I counted twenty before shutting off the water and drying my hands. I sit back down in the seat and Maansi opens up the capsules. I don't see them at first, but after she sticks her finger into the solution, a thin clear piece of plastic appears on the tip of her finger. She slowly and gently hands me the contact and tells me how to correctly hold it while putting it in. After putting in both of them, she tells me how to take them out. Then instructs me to put them back in. After I do so, she knocks on the door and Ulysses comes back in. He examines my eyes and then nods.
"Alright. It looks good. Maansi can fill you in on any other questions. I got another appointment with another squadron." He turns and swings open the door. He looks at me for a second, hesitating, before saying, "I will most likely see you soon."

"Alright so, it may take an hour or two for them to settle. I mean, they never really settle, since they move every time you blink, but you know what I mean."
I nod. "Speaking of missions. When will we go on one?"
Maansi's expression morphs into a kind of confused one. "What do you mean?"
Suddenly, the door to the training room opens.
"Finally," someone inside mumbles.
Maansi and I walk in to see everyone except Kylee and Schiffs, who opened the door for us. As for Schiffs, we had no idea where she was. Everyone was crowded around in a circle. Curiously, Maansi and I make our way over. Everyone's mouths were flapping, and the only words that caught my ear were "deep" and "mindscape." I notice Schiffs wasn't there. Almost as soon as the thought enters my head, the door to the training room bursts open.
"Alright, everyone. Back away. Expensive equipment coming through!"
Somewhere in the background, I can hear Robbie chuckle. The crowd peels away to reveal a near-transparent chair, which seemed to have blue LEDs. It had multiple white wires branching off of it, making the chair look like a fly trapped in a spider's web. The wires were hooked up to a computer, which seemed to be crunching numbers. Schiffs sets down the box she was holding and unpack it's contents. She assembles it and attached it to the wires. When she set it on top of the chair, it seemed to be a helmet of sorts.
She dusts off her hands and turns back to us, "Ladies and gentlemen of the Smog Squad, I present to you your worst nightmare. Literally."