by B.J. Keeton
***
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“No, Chuckie, I’m not.”
“You’re starting my Rites today?”
“Now, actually. In maybe an hour.”
“Am I leading?”
“No, you’re under Ceril Bain. It’s his mission.”
“I don’t like that.”
“You don’t have to. You just have to follow his orders and make sure that he and the rest of the team make it through okay. I’ve downloaded the mission objectives to your tablet.”
“Who else is coming? Besides the killer librarian?”
“Saryn Bloom, Easter Harlo, and Swinton.”
“Not awful. All right, I’m in.”
“You don’t have a choice, Chuckie.”
“I like to pretend I do sometimes.”
“I’m going to ignore that. Chuckie Tidwell, you are hereby authorized to act in the capacity of a fully Rited agent of the Charonic Archive, for the duration of this mission, your Rites.”
“Thanks, boss. Where’s my stuff?”
“Your bags have been packed and will be waiting on you in the Instance chamber. Pick up your weapons from the arms locker, standard set. But grab a sleeve while you’re in there.”
“This is big, then, huh? If you’re giving us sleeves.”
“It is important, yes.”
“Well, shucks, prof. I’m honored.”
“That’s the spirit, Chuckie. Be ready in half an hour. Meet in the Instance chamber once you’re equipped.”
“You got it, boss.”
