Right Hand

"Piss off, Agata." Silva scowled at me, deep lines etched in his face. He'd never liked me. Said a woman had no place among the Subduers, that I'd just be a distraction and ruin our operations. Really, I think he just liked having someone to blame his failures on. "What's she gonna do, scribble on me?"

"Berry took a pen to the eye last week," I reminded him, and pulled my ballistic goggles down over my eyes. Pens weren't meant to be weapons, but a sharp enough thrust in the right spot could do some serious damage. We'd gotten the bastard that did it, of course, but we'd all seen Berry writhing in pain and howling. Not wearing his gear had cost him his career. Our heavy padding was a pain in the ass, but when you cornered heretics, they got desperate. Dangerous. All in the name of "freedom". 

Silva scoffed, ignoring me. "This bitch is so small I could break her over my knee." He then went on to suggest which part of his body was bigger than the woman we were chasing, complete with gestures.

I ignored his crude remarks and pulled my helmet down over my head. I could see why he didn't see this particular heretic as such a threat, though. We'd encountered her a few times, and she wasn't a fighter. But she was quick, always seemed to have some kind of escape route. So far, no one had been able to bring her in for Re-Vision. It was embarrassing, but I couldn't help but feel a grudging kind of respect for her. Someone that dedicated to their beliefs--delusions, I corrected myself--was oddly admirable. Not that I'd ever say it out loud.

Instead of joining in with the guys on while they elaborated on just what they hoped the Editors would do to our target, I checked her stats. The swarm of heretics calling themselves a "guild" said was a hero. They called her Left Hand--an obvious name, really. She'd been on the run for more than a year, still spreading lies wherever she went.

Everyone knew the "guild" was almost finished. If we could take down one of their false idols, it might be the end of them entirely. Commendations all around. 

Captain Leitner interrupted the conversation to brief us. We'd traced the girl to a largely abandoned apartment building. He broke us into groups of twos, one to cover each exit. He and I would be together, and I had to wonder how much shit Silva would give me about that later. If the scans were right--and they always were--she'd probably be near the top floor. If she tried to jump out the window, it'd be a six-storey drop to the ground. Splat. I smiled. We finally had her.

We found her crouched on the floor, in a room full of broken furniture, pen in hand. She stared at us with wild eyes. Long, dirty hair hung over her face. She looked more like a frightened feral animal than a dangerous heretic. 

She stood up. The captain didn't waste any time. He wrenched the pen from her hand, grabbed her by the waist. She kicked; I heard something slide, the sound of paper on wood. The captain didn't notice as he restrained the flailing woman and injected her the tranquilizer in her neck. She fell limp in his arms. 

I was disappointed. After all this time, I thought something would happen when we finally got her. I glanced at Leitner, wondering if he felt the same. 

"Agata, find anything she might've written," he instructed, then repeated his orders to the rest of the squad. He stepped out of the room to load the girl in the van and inform the Elite that we finally had her, this "Left Hand".

I collected a few numbered pages, silently cursing myself for being curious at its contents. Sating that curiosity was not worth the danger of corruption, however, and being confused with these untruths. Any of this collected "fiction", their word for lies, would be handed over to the Editors, to decide if it should be incinerated, or uses as part of the Re-Vision process.

I checked under the dilapidated couch, searching for the last piece of paper I'd seen her hide. It immediately stood out: not recycled white paper that the guild used. It was brown and wrinkled, torn from a shopping bag. Looking down at the writing, I could see the girl's hand had been shaking while she scrawled her last words.

They're coming for me.

I knew that I should tear my eyes away. Reading her lies would only damage me.

I read the next paragraph anyway. And the next. I continued until I had read the entire document. It did not appear to be actual fiction, but a brief--very brief--account of her life. We could use it. The final nail in the heretics' coffin, from one of their own. The Editors would have to see this. 

Leitner called me over the radio, telling me to come down once I had everything. There were crumpled pages in one hand, and this...document that the girl had tried to hide. I rolled the brown paper up and tucked it inside my sleeve. I'd have to give this to the captain in private. Silva would make my life hell if he knew I'd found something so important while he was covering exits.

I felt it against my wrist the whole ride back.

---

"Agata? Karina Agata?"

"That's me." I stood up from the bench in the waiting room. The secretary nodded, and led me inside the chief's office. I stiffened as I stood in front of his desk. He'd always made me nervous. 

"Captain Leitner says you've been exemplary working in his squad." Chief Hill only spared me a quick glance from the tablet on his desk.

"That's kind of him to say, sir."

"He wants to make you his second in command. His right hand, so to speak." 

I blinked. Swallowed. "He said that, sir?"

Hill nodded. "He sees potential in you. He'd like you to do some legwork for him for your next targets. A pair of heretics calling themselves 'the Duke and Dauphin'." He reached into his desk and pulled out a plastic card. "You've seen these, correct?"

"Yes, sir." Security cards. 

"This one will grant you three hundred hours of database access." He offered it to me. "Be sure to tell your captain what you find."

Gingerly, I took the card. "Yes, sir."

---

Just an hour later, I was alone in the computer lab. I'd never been alone there before. I swiped the card, and the database opened on my screen. The information on thousands of Wordsmiths (heretics, I reminded myself forcibly) could be found here. Known aliases, recent sightings, even the nature of their untruths. Photos, if there were any available. Most were grainy, taken from security camera footage.

After an hour of going through known data, I was able to surmise that the Duke and Dauphin were likely a married couple, and possibly parents. Last spotted in the Greith district. 

For a week I worked solely on their case: conducting interviews, updating and compiling their information in the database. Captain Leitner was pleased. Things were going well. Even Silva seemed to have developed a modicum of respect for me. I owed my change in status to just one person who I'd been lucky enough to find.

I had to see what became of her. Just once.

Slowly, I typed her name into the search bar.

---

I licked my lips--a nervous habit--while I waited outside the grocery store, waiting for the shift to end. The woman was easy to spot as she left, untying the green apron around her waist as she left the shop. 

"Rachel?" I called out, but I recognized her. She had the same wide-set eyes as her sister, the same upturned nose. 

She stopped, looked at me. "What?"

"Do you have a sister named June?"

Her annoyed expression changed to one of exhaustion. "Look, I already told you people a thousand times that I don't know where she is."

I shook my head. "I have a message from her." I felt my heart thumping in my chest, and held out the rolled brown paper to Rachel.