Cognitive Deviance

52. Departure

June 7, 2045 - 10:25 AM

Margo's legs quivered like a flagpole in a turbulent storm as she marched alongside her colleagues through the building's front entrance. Her throat was so dry, she felt like she could tear it piece by piece like a paper sack. Simple way out. Someone else would've had to clean up the mess. She, however, would be somewhere different, a plane of existence superior to that of the human body, where pain and regret were nothing more than tall tales.

But her nightmare that day was very real. The pain was genuine. The possibility that her career, her sanity, and her life could come crashing down like broken glass? Closer than ever before. The thoughts coming and going through her head kept reminding her.

Her colleagues strolled alongside her, four feet away. Jack to her right, three Assault Fatemakers trained on his back. Andrade and Kusanagi to her left, calm as can be, ready to venture deep into the Rabbit Hole as if it were nothing more than a cave expedition, meticulously mapped out for them with their safety ninety-five percent guaranteed. Her Fatemaker shuffled around in her right pocket. Not the up-to-date kind with the orange and green lights and slick design, but the original. Essentially a lump of coal—it was really carbon fiber—molded into the shape of a handgun, no unique, futuristic design to it like the one she typically armed herself with. There were two pea-sized, silver buttons on the back of the weapon where a hammer of a conventional handgun would've been. If she tapped the one on the right, she'd get Execute Mode in its early stages when it merely comprised of energy-based ammunition equivalent to the power of an average bullet. Tap the left and Incapacitate Mode would come into play. All that mattered to the officers, however, was the older gun's covertness. Undetected by metal detectors and trackers, along with the additional benefit of its generic presentation. Anyone who wasn't a part of Psychwatch or some deeply devoted firearm enthusiast wouldn't be able to distinguish it from any other typical handgun.

But Margo still did not feel safe. She and Jack approached the doors to their van. It was as if she were a ghost approaching her own open casket, unaware of her gruesome demise and only moments away from having the image of her corpse burned into her memory for as long as she roamed the earth.

"First Contact Squad!" Mason barked through their ThoughtControl pieces, ordinary ones rather than their conspicuous Psychwatch-issued pieces. "You in position?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Andrade and Kusanagi replied.

"Sandoval! Holloway! Check in!"

Margo coughed. "I'm here, Commissioner."

Jack nodded his head, gazing off into whatever world he imagined laid behind the van doors before him. Every day that passed, his eyes only grew more lifeless every time Margo got a glimpse of them, as if marbles took their places instead. She only grew more terrified imagining what the process was behind the sensory implants in his face.

The less he felt, the more Psychwatch could feel instead.

"He's there, Commissioner," Holden replied through their pieces. "Vitals are still going strong."

"Good," Mason replied, and she cleared her throat. "Alright, let's review the plan, ladies and gentlemen! First Contact Squad, you will enter the Rabbit Hole first. Sandoval and Holloway followed by Andrade and Kusanagi. Find Slater, locate the EMP device, and set that thing off as soon as you've found a secure position. Once the power is down, we ransack the place, rescue Cohen, and apprehend the masked men and Slater."

"Sounds too damn easy," Jack mumbled, his raspy voice as discomforting as nails on a chalkboard. He didn't even attempt to hide behind his charismatic facade this time.

"As long as you keep the suit and mask on," Mason replied, "it should be."

"Excuse me, Commissioner," Margo said, hoping the words emerged as a query rather than a whimper. "Does the suit erase pain?"