OOCS, Into A Wider Galaxy, Part 662

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(Came out slowly, but it surprised me a bit)

Cats, Cops and C4

“So what’s the story behind this?” Chenk asks as he opens the back panel to the large pillar. It was an art piece that was central to the western wing of the school. Apparently one of their students had gone on to become a master shifting sculptor and had donated a piece that she had carved while thinking about the school. The fact that the pillar occasionally shifted into scenes of violence made Chenk want to ask a lot of questions.

“In what way? The scenes on the pillar, the woman who carved it or why it was targeted?”

“Well, it’s a sort of expanded space art piece that keeps shifting out and will basically explode if the totem down here is badly damaged. And this bomb is... right on the totem, smallest payload yet from the look of it. Downright strategic. So this location is both insult and injury to the school.”

“It was also the place where some old teachers would give Erin dressing downs and pointing to the statue to try and emphasize what kind of potential she had. What kind of life she was spurring.”

“Ah, so this is insult, injury and a cathartic location. Got it.” Chenk says as he checks the bomb and nods before more closely looking just in case there’s a trap.

There are none and he snips away the blast caps, tosses them out and away and then removes the payload. It’s so tiny it could fit in the palm of his hand easily.

“How much was in there?” Layla asks and he leans out and hands her the tiny slab. “Really?”

“Still enough to shatter the totem, which would cause the whole piece to go off like a bomb. Ruining it permanently and unless the sculpture’s it’s shifting between are all hollow, dropping enough weight to crack open the floor and compromise the nearby walls.” Chenk notes.

“Yeah. It would do that.” Layla notes as she stares up at the carved pillar as it shifts again. It once again shows crowds of learning and images that always show a singular person in the distance or background. Always along, and always looking right at you, but none of the figures in any of the carvings or configurations have eyes.

“But I also have questions about what kind of school life, or what kind of person the artist is. The lack of eyes on all the characters in the carvings seems stylized at first but the placing on things is... well it makes me think the carver isn’t a truly happy person. Or even content for that matter.”

“I’ve thought about that a lot actually.” Layla admits. “The artist... I actually took her first name, Layla. It’s actually kinda funny, but I used this pillar to rename myself. But... it’s a miserable piece. More about turning old resentment and pain into something good. The school doesn’t want to admit that.”

“Did the school cause the misery?”

“No. Layla Hardara is just a natural recluse and would have hated any school she was forced into. She can’t look people in the eye, hates talking and is just... not suited to Centris. Too many people, too much everything.” Layla says.

“She inspired you?”

“Yeah. I guess she did.” Layla admits before smiling. “It’s funny, there’s so much resentment around this thing. But it almost set me free in a way.”

“Almost?”

“Well, I’m still trapped in here with a number of bombs going to go off. So that’s bad.”

“True enough.” Chenk replies. “Now...”

His communicator goes off with a text and he checks it before nodding. “Another potential bomb has been found.”

“Where?”

“The Music Room.”

“What?” Layla asks. There is both fear and hurt in her eyes. Whatever she had been expecting from all this, a bomb in her own classroom had not been it.

“Yeah. Let’s go check.” Chenk says. “Where is it?”

Layla takes off at a run and in mere moments Layla freezes in front of the door. “I didn’t have any students this period, thank the goddess, but the fact they put any in my room at all.” She says and Chenk looks around and mentally maps out where in the school they are.

He opens the door to the music room and notices the walls are all pushed in a little to soundproof it so that the noise in here doesn’t wash out and disrupt other classes. He starts scanning the room and narrows it down instantly. Everything in the room was already shut down anyways.

“The holo-projector? I use that to simulate any instrument the students could want.” Layla explains as he slowly scans around it and finds where the signal is strongest. He then finds the latch and begins to open it before the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. That is wrong. This is a trap.

He focuses Axiom into his ear and mind and puts his head against the side of the projector and gives it a light tap. Followed by another and another. Mapping out the internals.

“This was very deliberate. It’s meshed in with the machine itself. Much more complicated than the others.” Chenk says.

“They want me dead.”

“More than that. The antenna in this is much more advanced. I think... yes. This may very well be one of the primary triggers of the bombs.”

“But if they want me dead? Why the warning? Why the cloud? Why not let it just go off?”

“The Blood Metal Scare. Everyone’s reacting in different ways. The drugs in the air and threat could be a panic response.” Chenk explains as he taps the side a couple more times and hears out the shape. “Okay, so there are wires leading up to the projector itself, meaning a certain instrument or command might have set it off, and there are little arms on the door. Opening it will break a circuit and probably set off the bomb. There is also a transceiver, much more robust than all the others.”

He taps it a few more times and channels more Axiom to really focus. “The blast caps are different too. Detonation Caps as opposed to Shock Caps. The same treatment the Principal had in her office.”

“They really want me dead.”

“Probably. There’s enough of a payload in here to...” Chenk answers and here’s a thump. He looks up to see a shocked Layla sitting on the floor. “Sorry.”

She just looks at him. Hurt, lost and with something else starting to spark there. Maybe rage, maybe grief, maybe both. Whatever it is, he needs to hurry.

“No Axiom Sensors. The trap is on the latch and integrated into the projector itself.” He notes before shifting where he’s crouched down and then slipping off his jacket and rolling up his left sleeve. He then phases out his left arm and both hands to reach in. Left hand reaches lower and slowly grabs the shaped charge. Right hand uses the tips of his fingers to stop any jostling of the blast caps as he slowly, carefully pulls out the large payload. A full five pounds. Enough to straight up murder anyone using the projector.

Layla starts leaking air as she strangles back her absolute fury. Chenk reaches back in and carefully, oh so carefully, snips out the two blast caps and draws them out of the projector. He stands up and away from the projector and takes a step back and away from the payload.

He holds the blast caps gingerly in his left hand and grabs his jacket with the right.

“I’m going to put these away where they won’t be jostled, and then I’m coming back to secure the payload.” He says as he starts to walk off. Then he drapes his jacket over Layla. “It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong and you do not deserve what they’ve done to you. It will get better. I promise.”

She says nothing and he walks out. His mind is whirling on how to deal with this. No matter what happened as a police officer, when you’re involved someone is hurt somewhere and your job is to stop further harm and bring in the violators for proper punishment. But it always feels lacking. No amount of punishment, or preventing further harm can heal a person.

It’s never enough.

“Where’s Layla? Is she alright?” The Vice Principal asks as he arrives to gently drop off the blast caps.

“No. She just learned she was personally targeted. She’s... I don’t know. But I needed to get these out of there. I’m going to see how she is when I go back for the actual payload, but it was the largest we’ve found yet.”

“Do you think she was the main target?”

“I think she might have been. Yes.”

“Why her?”

“... The bomber is a relative of hers. One she’s not on good terms with, but didn’t think she was on bad terms with.”

“A member of her family is trying... wait. Erin Fibrerise is the one attacking us. Fibrerise means she doesn’t have a family.”

“She made one, and Layla wanted nothing to do with the rest. So she came here where the others wouldn’t follow. But they did, in the worst way imaginable.”

“The poor girl.”

“Yeah.” Chenk remarks. “Excuse me, I need to get back to her.”

He moves through the school and there is another text. He pauses. Checks it and sighs. Then turns around and heads out for a janitorial closet. A strange signal has been found and it’s right up against a load bearing wall.

Sure enough, it’s another bomb. And his examination of the area places the bomb right above a jointing on the material. This wasn’t just well placed, it was expertly placed. It’s not a mad bomber’s move, it’s a professional demolitionist’s move. The bombs are basic, but he’s starting to think that most of them are more mass produced than actually personal. But who? Who has the proficiency and who has the...

“The training.” Chenk realizes. There is a group on Centris that has all the training needed to handle chemical explosives on this level. His own people.

The Undaunted.

Has a trainee gone rogue? Has someone... No. This just became internal.

He cuts out the blast caps, basic shock caps, and tosses them away. Removes the payload and leaves the remains of the bomb, then brings out his communicator and sends a message to a very particular contact.

~Attempted terrorist bombing using C4 at a level that takes my kind of training. Look into it. We may be partially to blame.~

There is a pause in the answer. Then he gets a call. “Hello?”

“Can you confirm that mister police man?” Private Stream asks him.

“I can. I’ve been dismantling bombs for a bit now. All C4, all well made. All in strategic locations designed to fold in this building like an accordion, with only two exceptions, and both of them targeted at people.”

“Oh wow, that is bad. We’ll start looking into things.”

“Hopefully I’m just being paranoid. But as I’m dealing with bombs paranoia is the wind beneath my wings.”

“Yep.” Private Stream says popping the P. “Anyways we’ll start by going over everyone who officialy has the explosives training while checking what info is in the public sphere and what isn’t. This could be someone who’s just really, really good at following instructions.”

“And the Fibrerise collective does have that kind of mind.”

“The what?”

“You’ll get a mission report soon enough, I need to disable numerous explosives and possibly an emotional one as well.”

“Oh! Spicy! Have fun!”

“Fun isn’t the word I’d use.”

“If you don’t love what you do then you’re in the wrong job.”

“I don’t like that I have to pick up after people make a mess of their lives or the lives of others!” Chenk snaps.

“Touchy...”

“I have bombs in a school full of children and the woman who is my greatest help in dealing with them is going through it. That’s not a good thing.”

“Okay, okay, go save the maiden good hero.”

“You are lucky I can’t reach through this communicator and smack you one.”

“No. You’re lucky you can’t do that. Otherwise I’d get your fingers, tasty tasty fingers.”

“You’re a sick man.”

“Yes.” Private Stream says and Chenk hangs up.

He crushes the electrical blast caps and tosses them out before placing the payload with the rest. He then heads back to the music room to find that Layla has moved to sit on her desk. His coat is hanging from a hook next to the door.

She doesn’t say a thing as he enters the room.

“Another bomb was revealed. Not only was it a load bearing wall, but right where the primary support beams were bolted together. An expert placement.” He says.

She says nothing for a bit before sighing. “Something went wrong with me.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. When I was produced and copied into my body something must have gone wrong for me to turn out so different from the rest that I never even considered the things they do.” Layla says. Her eyes distant and full of old pain. “Is that why I... why she was abandoned? Just... surrendered to the state? Could our mother tell we... I... that she was broken? Did she just know that Erin Fibrerise was a monster?”

“I would think it would be impossible to tell in a baby.” Chenk says.

“Probably, or at least, you’d think so. Wouldn’t you?” Layla asks as she looks away. “Ever since... ever since I was a little girl I asked myself, did I make a mistake? Did I do wrong? Was there something wrong with me? Every time someone brought up their family, I was reminded how I didn’t have one and even if I stopped hearing it... the question was still there. Always there.”

“It couldn’t have been your fault.”

“Well not MINE mine. I wasn’t born yet. Made yet. But Erin... I’m starting to think that voice in her head was onto something. That something is wrong, and maybe mother knew it. And it was just safer for her to get rid of me... her. Safer to get rid of her.”

She pulls her guitar off her back and holds it, case and all in front of her before sighing. “Can a person from a broken place, with a broken mind, and born to a family so broken it never was... can they ever be whole? Or will they always be broken?”

Chenk says nothing as she puts the guitar to the side and has it propped up against the desk. “Who am I trying to fool? I’m just a broken thing from...”

She’s cut off as his arms wrap around her and she goes completely still. Then there is a sniff, a sob, then a cry before she starts openly weeping.

“It’s okay. You’re going to make it through this and you will start building more. You won’t need to step lightly to avoid the others. They will not touch you, they will not hurt you.”

“But what if-”

“IF. If is a big word for all that it’s so short. I have told you what WILL. No IF can stop it. You WILL be safe. You WILL heal. Trust in that.” He says and her arms wrap around him in return.

The tears are not entirely pain anymore.

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