Unicorn Riders - Pinch (English)

Chapter 4: Departure

When the sun began to rise over the farmland of Coock City, the alarm clock in Vera's room went off. But Vera was awake already. The excitement concerning this day had made her find little sleep.

Tha glass box with the stun pistol was standing on the table in her room. Her father had put it there after the party. Again and again Vera had stood up from her bed to examine the box and the attached code lock. She needed a five digit code to open the box - she had learned as much about it already. So it wouldn't be her birthday. But what was it then? A random number picked by her father? Probably not. Igor Lippson was as careful as he was unimaginitive, and since he was the only one who knew the code he would have chosen one directly connected to Vera or to himself. But she couldn't figure it out, no matter how much she racked her brain.

As Helen came into the room to look in for Vera she found her lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking. "You're already up" she stated in surprise. "Are you nervous about your mission?"

Vera rose up and looked at her, giving her an indifferent shrug. "A little. But more like excited."

At this point Helen noticed the jacket on the floor where Vera had dropped it last night. She picked it up, ready to call her daughter out on her untidyness, when she saw the name at the front. She also knew of the nickname Vera had among the mercenaries. "Dad's idea?" she asked, pointing at the red letters.

"Who else?" Vera grumbled, slowly standing up from her bed.

"So I guess you don't want to put this on today" her mother deduced of her reaction. She had also found the rest of the combat suit having been put back into the gift box. Vera determinedly shook her head.

"I'd rather wear my night gown on a mission than running around with this name on my chest" she declared vigorously. But Helen reacted in a typical fashion for her, with a motherly, but commanding pose and look, with both her hands akimbo.

"No, you don't" she said decisively. "But you said you need some proper clothing. Something suitable for hiking through the wilderness."

Vera grinned. "It's called reconnaissance" she corrected her mother in an attempt to appear smart.

Helen couldn't laugh about this. She was already fed up with having a smart-arse as her husband. So her reply came out with appropriate sarcasm: "Then I have to put more camouflaged clothes for you on the shopping list. Ah, well, at least those stains you usually have on you when you come home from outside won't show up on it."

"As if I always came home in dirty clothes" Vera moaned annoyed, but her mother raised her eyebrows: "More often than you would admit. So, what do you want to wear?"

The selection was huge. Over the past few years her parents had provided Vera with a large stock of clothing that adjusted to her size up to a certain point. Even clothes she had received five years ago still fit her like a second skin. Just the matter of fashion had a lot of potential for improvement. She wouldn't be caught dead in the street in her children's clothing, being not trendy anymore. The rest... oh well...

Bit by bit Vera and Helen went through all the possible attires, but Vera wasn't able to pick one. Until Helen made a point that the purpose of it was not to make her look good, but to protect her from the weather. Apart from that, a "reconnaissance mission" as Vera named it would call for more unobtrusive clothing. That being said, most of the colourful ensembles she had gotten as a child dropped out as possible choices. But Vera still longed for not running around looking like the worst dork. So dressing her up became a somewhat drawn-out process.

Eventually she had accomplished it. She went into the kitchen where her father was already sitting with his breakfast, examining her from head to toe. He didn't comment on her attire which was a good sign - had he not liked it, he would have spoken out loud. But there was nothing to complain about: A dark grey pair of trousers made of durable material and with a slightly wider cut than the skintight pants she used to wear; a longsleeved black top without any markings or decorations on it; her light brown long hair being carefully combed and falling openly over her shoulders. She had even put on matching socks for a change.