Paladin cursed under his breath as he looked at the body. His anger was boiling. Closing his eyes he began to count. Finally he looked up to Proust who was stoically standing on the other side of the metal slab.
"Was she alive when you found her?"
Proust shook his head.
"Did you check if she had any intel on her?"
Again, negative.
Paladin sighed and looked down again. Then looked up sharply, "Are you lying? You cannot do that you know."
Two large fists rested on hips and Proust's eyebrows came together.
"Right, right, of course not," was the whispered reply. "Well shit. This has closed a door or two Colonel." Paladin raised a hand and rubbed against the stubble on his chin, deep in thought. Proust just looked on like a statue.
A snap of his figures signaled a revelation. "There is another way." Paladin leaned in over the body, "Your group. They have access to certain records I'm sure. If you can acquire some information for me then I can get what I need to help you." His eyes were wide and he was clearly excited.
Proust's brow knotted further and he leaned in to match Paladin's stance. "No."
The smaller man pushed away from the table and took a step back. "Look, there is only so much I can do. I have not seen you lift finger to find your precious 'Korps'. I asked for a little help to get some things rolling. Remember the deal: I'll help you if you help me. So where's the love?"
Proust slowly stood and removed his bright red cowl and cape. Holding it at his right side he slowly walked around the table to Paladin's side. Proust raised his left hand and raised his middle finger. His voice was low and monotone, "Give me one reason to keep this agreement."
Paladin took a step back and whispered to no one, "Speech protocols..." To Proust, "when were you able to speak outside of combat parameters?"
Proust smiled, "Little man, you can't help me. And if you can't, then the Earth is doomed." He put the cape and cowl back on and started heading to the door, leaving Paladin in a stunned stupor.
---
"I'm telling you Colonel, your Eighty-eight spoke to me like any person would be able to."
Silence. A sigh.
"Fine. Then my services are done?"
Silence.
"Fine. Send the files. I'll give them to him. You sure this will push him?"
Silence.
"Good. I'll do what I can.
---
The man disconnected the line and rubbed his mustache. He leaned back in his chair and swiveled his chair to encompass the scenic beauty of Founder's Falls. Making a steeple with his fingers, the man was deep in thought.
He just experienced a minor setback in his grand plans but nothing that can't be fixed. GREL-88 has been remarkably brilliant since his emergence from supposed death. And now it took a giant leap from its intended design. The "Codex" was teaching him speech in normal environs. This is a good thing. They are also allowing him to maintain his physical condition. But they have also added an element of loyalty to themselves.
The GREL program assumed that loyalty to the Korps was the only motivator. Clearly this is not true. So is it possible the other GRELs might develop in a similar fashion given the same stimulus?
The man shook his head.
No, GREL-88 was made different. He was to lead the Korps in combat. The others are soldiers like him, but unlike him are less ... individualistic.
We must find the rest. Even if they are dead we must learn what happened to them. Damn you Countess. Damn you to hell.
The intercom chimed. Startled out of his reverie, the man answered, "Yes Penelope?"
"Colonel Arthur, a representative from Vanguard is here to see you."
"Yes, thank you. Allow me one minute." The line closed.
Colonel Arthur stood and put on his United States Marines jacket. The medals gleaming in the window's reflection. "Damn you, Countess Crey."
---
Proust entered his apartment in Surace Industries. Activating the silencing device he sat at the table and pulled out a small case from one of his many pockets. Dotted with dried blood and dirt, he opened the container as Jade Falcon instructed him. Inside were folded documents. They looked original. They looked official. They had the words Proust had been hoping to find on them. Jade Falcon told the truth before he had to kill her.
'Project: Genetic Recombination Elite Legionnaire'
"Was she alive when you found her?"
Proust shook his head.
"Did you check if she had any intel on her?"
Again, negative.
Paladin sighed and looked down again. Then looked up sharply, "Are you lying? You cannot do that you know."
Two large fists rested on hips and Proust's eyebrows came together.
"Right, right, of course not," was the whispered reply. "Well shit. This has closed a door or two Colonel." Paladin raised a hand and rubbed against the stubble on his chin, deep in thought. Proust just looked on like a statue.
A snap of his figures signaled a revelation. "There is another way." Paladin leaned in over the body, "Your group. They have access to certain records I'm sure. If you can acquire some information for me then I can get what I need to help you." His eyes were wide and he was clearly excited.
Proust's brow knotted further and he leaned in to match Paladin's stance. "No."
The smaller man pushed away from the table and took a step back. "Look, there is only so much I can do. I have not seen you lift finger to find your precious 'Korps'. I asked for a little help to get some things rolling. Remember the deal: I'll help you if you help me. So where's the love?"
Proust slowly stood and removed his bright red cowl and cape. Holding it at his right side he slowly walked around the table to Paladin's side. Proust raised his left hand and raised his middle finger. His voice was low and monotone, "Give me one reason to keep this agreement."
Paladin took a step back and whispered to no one, "Speech protocols..." To Proust, "when were you able to speak outside of combat parameters?"
Proust smiled, "Little man, you can't help me. And if you can't, then the Earth is doomed." He put the cape and cowl back on and started heading to the door, leaving Paladin in a stunned stupor.
---
"I'm telling you Colonel, your Eighty-eight spoke to me like any person would be able to."
Silence. A sigh.
"Fine. Then my services are done?"
Silence.
"Fine. Send the files. I'll give them to him. You sure this will push him?"
Silence.
"Good. I'll do what I can.
---
The man disconnected the line and rubbed his mustache. He leaned back in his chair and swiveled his chair to encompass the scenic beauty of Founder's Falls. Making a steeple with his fingers, the man was deep in thought.
He just experienced a minor setback in his grand plans but nothing that can't be fixed. GREL-88 has been remarkably brilliant since his emergence from supposed death. And now it took a giant leap from its intended design. The "Codex" was teaching him speech in normal environs. This is a good thing. They are also allowing him to maintain his physical condition. But they have also added an element of loyalty to themselves.
The GREL program assumed that loyalty to the Korps was the only motivator. Clearly this is not true. So is it possible the other GRELs might develop in a similar fashion given the same stimulus?
The man shook his head.
No, GREL-88 was made different. He was to lead the Korps in combat. The others are soldiers like him, but unlike him are less ... individualistic.
We must find the rest. Even if they are dead we must learn what happened to them. Damn you Countess. Damn you to hell.
The intercom chimed. Startled out of his reverie, the man answered, "Yes Penelope?"
"Colonel Arthur, a representative from Vanguard is here to see you."
"Yes, thank you. Allow me one minute." The line closed.
Colonel Arthur stood and put on his United States Marines jacket. The medals gleaming in the window's reflection. "Damn you, Countess Crey."
---
Proust entered his apartment in Surace Industries. Activating the silencing device he sat at the table and pulled out a small case from one of his many pockets. Dotted with dried blood and dirt, he opened the container as Jade Falcon instructed him. Inside were folded documents. They looked original. They looked official. They had the words Proust had been hoping to find on them. Jade Falcon told the truth before he had to kill her.
'Project: Genetic Recombination Elite Legionnaire'
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