Chapter 13 Need Some Exposition? 1/2

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Practically speaking, Jessica had received a VIP all-access pass within Sub Terra HQ but was advised not to disturb busy personnel. She took the advisement under partial consideration. Pouring over the cave in her mind, she became giddy with every additional mystery in sight. That enthusiasm crashed every time someone opened the door to the shooting range. If not for the dampener glass, no one would have slept. As for the weapons tested, from the laser-like projectiles, she assumed they were magnetic.

Between a series of crates, the vigilant teenager eventually took Valerie aside. "I'm kinda sorry for doubting you, on the way here," she drawled. "I thought it was a calculated risk letting you lead us, but I was pretty wrong."

Valerie crossed her arms. "You apologizing is weird, so don't worry about it. Even I wasn't sure what to expect; but we're here, not dead yet, and that's all that matters."

"Agreed," said Shannon, trudging close. "What I would like to know, Val, is when the hell did you join this crew? Did you fill out a résumé or what?"

"One day, I needed money," she groaned. "Go figure. This job came my way through a cousin—mine so long as I didn't ask questions. When it paid well, I decided to keep it going, you know? I traded packages in New Sumer and kept it on the down-low before this uptight Azarean comes up to me and asks what I have in my suitcase. I wanted to be honest and say, 'I don't know.' But honesty is stupid, so I said it was marijuana for a clinic—"

"The short version, Val."

"Fine... I get caught. Toma: A Sub Terra agent saves me and tells me the truth about what's in the suitcase. Guess he felt obligated, maybe a little guilty, 'cause then he told me about the whole thing: Sub Terra, the cells, their mission. At first, I didn't care, like, at all. The more I thought about it, I realized Goliath and The Union were really up to some shit. I started to believe in what I was doing, so I kept workin' it."

Slowly, Shannon nodded. "Okay, you know what? That's cool. I was afraid you were an anarchist for a while. Or worse..."

"Anarchy is a theoretical status quo whose self-negation is evidenced by its inability to have a historical impact," Jessica rejoined. "But if you're a sheep, you essentially lack personality and buy VI's and games that other people buy even if they're crap."

"I agree, but that's not the point, Jess."

"Thinking out loud."

Their side-quest into the hangar surrounded them with more rock and shadow. Its concrete surface held the wheels of aircraft, several unique engines, all of them from decades past yet impossibly new. Elsewhere on the grounds lay a series of barracks neatly set in a row, each and every one of them with the same insignia. On uniforms, on banners, everywhere, a fist rising from the planet Earth. "It's definitely gripping." Jess tried not to giggle at her own joke.

One road across the cavern connected the jet hangar and barracks. Both ends terminated at magnificent metal doors, which could have led to the sky or deeper underground. Every damn observation tallied Jessica's mind with a new question.

"Where the hell did all this come from?" she whined then pointed at the nearest stranger, a young Asian man in blue coveralls. He gawked from beneath the beak of a black fuselage. "You! Where, the hell, did all this come from? Tell me right now."

The young man flinched. "You need some exposition?" he asked.

"Yes!"

"You're new," he remarked at her approach. "Are you the guys—gals that brought that creepy recording? Cuz I really hope it gets us somewhere."

"Yes." Valerie winked. "We came with gifts in the form of criminal evidence, black ops crap, and charm."

"In that order," said Shannon.

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