Make A Killing

Garlic

Luna's point of view.

    It was getting a little bit concerning that Isla seemed to genuinely not remember anything. She wasn't any use to us if she couldn't remember anything she's ever done or anyone she's ever met. I prayed that she would regain her memories soon, but she also had an easy way to lie to us now. Even if she regains her memories, she wouldn't tell us. How long could we keep her in our basement? If we keep her here for too long, she could potentially start spying on us--and that's not even getting into the moral ambiguity of keeping her downstairs for any long period of time.

    Francis had soup on the stove for the second day in a row (no complaints here), and he stirred it lazily as he stared longingly into the pot. "I wish I had garlic. Potato soup is better with garlic and onion."

    "I could make some artificial garlic, but we wouldn't have it for a few weeks, and it may not taste exactly like fresh garlic," Trinket offered as they waited at the stove beside Francis. "The artificial tomatoes didn't go well last time, but I could use the challenge."

    "I think it'd be easier to just go to the market, Trinket," I said as I sat at the breakfast table and read the newspaper. "If I gave you some money, Francis, would you have time to buy some?"

    Francis straightened and made a begging motion with his hands. "Yeah, I'd have plenty of time. Please? Potato soup should have onion and garlic."

    I set down this week's news and reached into my backpack, which was sitting on the ground next to my chair. I rifled through my notes and binders for a moment to find extra cash, and finally pulled out a couple of one-dollar bills. I handed them to him without looking up. 

    "You're the best," he praised. He gathered his things and gave a large spoon to Trinket so they could continue to stir the soup every once in a while. "I'll be back soon; don't have too much fun without me, Trinket. See you all later."

    I picked up the paper again off of the wooden table. The headline read: Raven King Soldier Stages A Protest--Guard Participation Is Unknown.

    The Guard hadn't staged any protests in the last few weeks; I'd mostly been focusing on stopping Isla, and Gem and Trinket were mostly working in the labs to perfect the tools that I tried against her. That left Francis to do all of our cover-up work, cleaning, and cooking. In the end, we just hadn't had the time for other things. Isla was a full-time job. 

    That meant that there was a soldier out there who could join us. We had no way of finding them, though. R.K. had banned the newspapers from including a name or face for anyone who participated in riots or protests. It isolated the Guard so that we couldn't spread our roots anywhere, and usually the Raven King would just send someone like Isla to find and take care of the protestor. The Guard rarely even had time to respond. Probably the protestor in the news had already been returned to the King and punished. If only they'd found us....

    I shook my head and flipped to the next page. The rest of the news looked to be mostly garbage. There was something about a restaurant that had flooded, and another about the success of the Raven King's new recruits, but there wasn't a whole lot of information that was useful to the Guard. I sighed and set it down. Maybe someday, a new recruit would find us. That'd be nice; I was getting tired of constantly chasing after rebellious Raven King soldiers rather than advertising ourselves so they could be the ones searching for once.

    I decided to go check on Isla again. I'd been doing that almost compulsively since she woke up; I was paranoid that she was going to escape and tell the Raven King where we were. Each time I visited, she seemed to be more and more sensible, but she still didn't remember a thing. At least we could communicate a bit now. 

    "I'm going downstairs, Trinket," I said. 

    "Isla can't escape, if that's what you're worried about," they assured. "I've set traps down there for her specifically. Face recognition to set off my machines and sensors that would lock the door if her DNA touches the doorknob. Things like that. She's royally screwed even once she regains her memory."

    I opened the battery compartment in the TV remote and pressed the button to open up the stairwell. "I know, I know. I'm just checking. Let me know if you need anything." 

    I began my descent. Gem was in the lab, looking at something in a microscope. She nodded as I passed. Her notebook was filled with scrawled notes about Isla's DNA. Probably she was working with Trinket on another trap for Isla.

    I stepped over an evil-looking robot that was as tall as my knees and avoided an area on the ground with caution tape. I needed to come down and review all the experiments Trinket and Gem were working on right now. The test tubes, whiteboards, gears, screws, and half-finished models that were scattered around the room in no organized manner were enough to tell me that I had probably let Trinket go too long without dropping projects or cleaning the lab. They got excited about learning; they couldn't understand why I asked them to put some of the projects on hiatus. It's not that I didn't believe in them, it's just that we rarely had the time, room, or money for so many different experiments at once. Sometimes I think Trinket is afraid their life will end too soon, and they won't get to finish all of it.

    I turned the dial on the AC monitor and hurried into the tunnel to the dungeons. On the other side, Isla sat criss-cross-applesauce on the mattress in her cell. Her brow was furrowed, and she stared at her hands. She looked up at me with worried eyes. "Luna, I had a dream."

    I leaned against the wall casually. "About what?"

    "A lady...I think I was in her house. I don't remember who she was. I remember.... I remember being hit by the explosive. And we were fighting, Luna. Do we fight in real life, too, or just in the dream?"

    I crossed my arms and tried to gauge how much I should tell her. Tapping my fingers against my upper arm, I finally settled on, "Yeah, we fought sometimes."

    "Not all of the time, though, right?"

    "Okay, fine. We fought all of the time. You...were a different person then to say the least, and we weren't on the same side."

    Isla's brow furrowed, and she continued staring into her hands. "Are you the bad guys, then?"

    "We're not bad guys, Isla."

    "I wouldn't have been a bad guy, I don't think...right? I'd like to think I'm better than that, even if I don't remember who I am yet. I'd like to think I would have always done the right thing."

    I considered her. She looked exhausted, and I would imagine it was overwhelming to have to rediscover who she was, or who she wanted to be. Still, this was the right track, right? She knew she must have done something wrong at some point, but she wants to do the right thing. That's a step.

    "Well, you could always start over," I suggested. "No one is forcing you to be the same person you used to be. You could help out around the house here, if you wanted. I'm not saying you have to abandon your entire old personality or anything, but if you don't think you did the right thing as the old you.... You're not tethered to those decisions, Isla. You could stay here with us and help out."

    She let her eyes drift closed as she listened to me speak. "Yeah, I think I'd like that. I want to start over, Luna. I want to make the right decisions this time."

    We fell into a semi-awkward silence. Finally, I brushed a hair out of my face and said, "Well, I look forward to getting to know you, then. And, uh, I'll have Francis and Trinket come down later and take those bands off of your wrists. There's no use in keeping you bed-ridden, and I would imagine it sucks not to to able to walk around. See you later?"

    She nodded without looking up. "See you later, Luna."

    And with that, I was back into the tunnel heading upstairs.