“I'll go pack our stuff,” he sighed a combination of words and smoke.
“Oh, Richter, you're the best!” Elsa dashed up to Richter and threw her arms around his hips with wild abandon. As she giggled and nuzzled into his stomach, he scratched the back of his head in mock annoyance. The faint smile pulling at his lips, however, belied his satisfaction. I laughed under my breath.
The sound of Oswald's trailer doors clanking shut tore me from the sentimental moment, and as I shuffled to the back of the contraption, I arrived just in time to witness the doctor dust off his hands after sealing up the doors. I expected Crelyos to stumble from the doctor's makeshift operating room with the same overpowering disorientation I experienced, but instead, only Oswald emerged from the metal laboratory. I approached him with a concerned furrow marring my brows.
“So, are preparations complete for us to embark? We have much ground to cover,” Oswald inquired nonchalantly. I cocked my hips to one side and pressed a single closed fist against the swell created by the stance. My position immediately provoked Oswald to cross his arms expectantly. His words rolled from his lips with the aggravation of a parent addressing a spoiled child, “What is it, dear child?”
“Don't ‘are preparations complete,’ me. How is Crelyos? Why isn't he leaping from the back of the trailer with a bottle of sludge in his hand swearing at you for your rough handling?” I gestured to the sealed door at Oswald's rear with obvious suspicion.
“Rough handling? Well I nev— Ihlia, when you underwent the procedure your wounds had all but recovered. The drunkard insisted I operate on him after that military fellow brought a house down on his head. He needs rest considering the extent of his injuries when I deactivated Panacea to perform the surgery, so I properly sedated him,” Oswald nodded and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“He'll be asleep for quite a while; besides I don't want him wandering off into the desert like a certain someone. Now, please calm down and explain to me why we are allowing these two strangers, one of which is a child, to accompany us on our journey? Ihlia, you know I hate children.” Apparently Oswald heard the entire conversation through the trailer's thin metal walls. His stern gaze suggested he believed he succeeded in shifting from a defensive standpoint to an offensive one in our little argument.
“Things are getting more complicated, Oswald. We're dealing with an entire organization. Richter uses some pretty high tech gear, and I can vouch that he's a decent fighter. I mean, he took down a Hoverbuster! I hardly see the harm in having another able body along.” Like a small rodent in a trap, I fell into a defensive explanation.
Despite my reasoning, the sound of Oswald's annoyance in his questions sounded far more like my usual self. Normally, I would express my gratitude for Richter's assistance then bid him and the young girl in tow a heartless farewell. Why did I feel so intent on the two strangers accompanying us? Was it the security of an extra fighter? “Or perhaps…” I thought to myself, glancing over at the pair.
Elsa still clung to Richter's waist, but her giddy expression had transformed. She buried herself into Richter in a shy attempt to hide herself from Oswald. He offered her absolutely no regard. Upon noticing my attention, Richter simply shrugged and pulled away from the young girl. He began through the desert in the direction of what I assumed to be their temporary abode. More than anything, however, I focused on Elsa.
“Where are you going?” Oswald called after the sleek archer. Richter paused and glanced over his shoulder.
“Like I said,” Richter finished the last drag on his cigarette and flicked the butt into the wind, “I'm going to pack our things.”
“And what do you stand to gain from traveling with us? I can't say I trust someone who so easily adjusts his entire life around the whims of a small child or the requests of a stranger.” Oswald's narrow gaze followed the aloof renegade even when he turned his back on us and started through the desert again.
“I have my reasons. I'm not acting selflessly; I have my own agenda,” Ricther lifted his hand and offered a dismissive wave as he shrank into the horizon. The distant roll of thunder heralded the approaching rain that I smelled when Elsa and I left Loftsborough. Oswald adjusted his glasses with an annoyed sigh.
“And what of the child? I will grant you the logic of Richter's approval to our band; the technology on his shoulders most certainly predates the Titan Crisis. I myself am actually quite intrigued to find out where he acquired it. But this young girl named Elsa? She would certainly be nothing more than a hindrance. We should leave her in the care of Loftsborough's denizens.” Oswald crossed his arms and stated his points with all the affection his scientific mind afforded him: none.
Upon Richter's disappearance, Elsa found a new hideaway behind me. She clutched the frayed ends of my synthetic leather trench coat and poked only a small portion of her face from around the swell of my hips in order to look upon Oswald. While most onlookers would surmise her gaze to be one of a normal, confused young child, I knew better. No doubt Oswald's mind fell under intense scrutiny by her telepathic nanite. I shuddered to think what the poor child discovered.
“Loftsborough's done so much for us already. They restocked our supplies and didn't try to kill us for bringing a miniature war to their town. I hardly think it's fair to thrust a child upon their already strained resources while they rebuild. Besides, I seriously doubt that Richter would approve. He takes care of her, so I'm fairly certain that wherever he goes, she goes,” I responded; even I recognized my words were little more than excuses. Perhaps somewhere in the convoluted sea of my dormant emotions, I wanted Elsa nearby, though for the life of me I could not fathom why.
“Quite…” Oswald trailed off with an arched brow. He no doubt attempted to size up my intentions, but in the end he simply threw his hands in the air, defeated. A cryptic smile touched his lips, “Very well then, Ihlia. I pray you do not regret your decision. When Richter returns, we will load up his equipment and be on our way.” The doctor shoved his hands into his coat and waltzed to the front of the dune buggy to tinker with the machinery.
Regret? I was far beyond experiencing regret. The wheels had already begun to turn. People died, a township burned to the ground, and an organization formed by the very man who destroyed the world undoubtedly marked us as kill-on-sight. I turned my face into the wind; its stinging cold carried the odor of destruction that I prepared to leave in my wake. Whatever fate lay ahead of us, it left no room for regret. Not anymore.
I glanced down at the young Elsa and grinned; she returned my glance and smiled.
NANO Archive 01: The City of Fire Page 44
