1 The Aerie
[September 15, 2040, London England, 0200 hours]
*Ringing Phone*
A pale, feminine hand reached from under the silk sheets and picked up the ringing cellphone. "This is Blackbird."
"Agent Blackbird, a viable candidate has been located. Your deep mission will commence immediately. Proceed to the Aerie."
"Understood."
Blackbird turned off the phone and tossed the covers off. "Is this the beginning? Or the end?"
She stepped into the bathroom, a short walk in the agency owned single room flat. After removing the cell battery, she slammed it against the white countertop before dumping it into the half-filled sink.
Her delicate features were devoid of emotion as she quickly soaped up in the shower. As always, the water was ice cold; her skin was intolerant of high temperatures. The lean muscles of a dancer rippled beneath the surface; her blue veins were visible in the abundant light of the bathroom. Short black hair and dark eyes made her face look cold. The only discerning feature in her entire existence was the small Blackbird inked on the back of her left shoulder.
A few minutes later, she was dressed casually in blue jeans and a man's v-neck white t-shirt. She ran a comb through her dark hair, more out of habit than any desire to groom herself. The ding of her toaster announced that her strudel was done and that it was time to leave.
Thirty minutes later, she was racing her Norton Manx through the streets of London. She turned into a nondescript parking garage next to across from the LNN building. Unlike other garages, there was a cement barrier, rather than the standard electric gate. She placed her bare hand on the black pad next to the viewscreen, a moment later, a voice emitted from the speaker.
"Authenticate, 11 December 1983."
Without hesitating, her slightly accented voice replied. "I authenticate, Charlie, Echo, Seven, Tango, Zero, Three, Niner."
"Leave the bike on L block; we will take care of it."
"Understood." The cement barrier lowered into the pavement, allowing her to cross and head toward the down ramp.
A single man wearing a plain black suit was the only person in the lobby. The dark fabric of the suit was stretched thin over the man's impressive build. A distinct bump near his left shoulder announced that he was armed. The room was nearly the width of a football pitch. Its only purpose was to house the numerous elevator doors. "You're Blackbird."
The woman nodded in agreement since it was a statement and not a question. "I am Blackbird."
The suited man used the keyboard in front of him to enter a few bits of information before glancing up. "Elevator 7, level 88."
She turned without responding, quickly spotting a large '7' on a nearby wall. She used her hand to verify her identification; this time, her finger was pricked. A large screen appeared on the elevator door with her photo.
DNA verified. Welcome to the Aerie, Blackbird
A moment later, the door opened, and she stepped into an elevator that was only slightly larger than a phone booth.
"Last chance to walk away." The man spoke from his seat behind the desk.
Blackbird ignored the man and pressed the '8' digit twice, the picture of her still visible on the screen. "That's not my best side."
A moment later, the door closed and the elevator plunged downward, fast enough to cause the occupant to clench her stomach. When it came to a stop a few minutes later, she braced an arm against one wall to maintain her balance.
The circular room she exited into was five meters in diameter and housed most of the common household appliances you'd expect in a combined kitchen/dining room. Stainless steel appliances and black countertops gave the room a decidedly mechanical flavor. She sensed the movement when stepped away from the elevator door, the entire room rotated until only a blank wall was visible. The elevator door was no more.
"No turning back now." Blackbird took a quick look around before peeking into the other two small rooms. The bathroom was a simple shower stall and toilet. There was a small sink with some shelves over the top of it but no mirror. The bedroom consisted of a double bed that withdrew into the wall to expose the only impressive feature of the tiny abode, her tech station.
She placed her hands on the old fashion keyboard and the wall in front of her lit up to display nine different screens. More then a dozen tiny speakers were mounted around them.
"Let's see what we are working with." Blackbird turned on the tech system, waiting patiently while it booted up. Words scrolled across the screen, accompanied by a woman's voice. "No audio on system messages, I prefer subtitles."
Welcome, Blackbird. [Day 1]
[Patient 777]
Height: 188 cm.
Weight: 265 lbs.
Massive Brain Injury
Frontal Lobe: Areas affected: Judgement, Foresight, Voluntary movement.
Occipital Lobe: Areas affected: Vision
Temporal Lobe: Areas affected: Hearing
Sensory Cortex: Areas affected: Pain, Heat, and most sensations.
Current Status: Unavailable
"Damn… How are you still alive?" Blackbird stared at the screens for a moment, there was nothing further to see. Unavailable means he was still in surgery. She studied his stats for a moment. "Kinda tall, perhaps a bit on the heavy side. His biometrics aren't up yet. Notify me when his vitals become available."
After exiting the tech/bedroom, she opened the fridge to scout out her meal situation. It was stocked only with beverages, an automated dumbwaiter system would deliver whatever meals she ordered, within reason. The outside door of the fridge served as the meal interface. She keyed up plain yogurt and a blueberry muffin for breakfast, along with two poached eggs. "Let's go with 0800 delivery and, make that meal repeating until I change it."
[Patient 777 has come online.]
Blackbird walked quickly into her tech room and keyed up the monitors. She smiled when she heard the steady drone of voices. "His Temporal Lobe implant is already in, I can hear the surgical team."
Her thin lips pursed slightly while studying his body blueprint. "Not the worst I've seen."
Blood Pressure: 112/60
Heart Rate: 67 bpm
Body Fat % 18
Blackbird muted the speakers and removed the ear inserts from the desk drawer, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. The sound of his heart was strong and steady. As she focused, the individual voices of the surgical team began to stand out. There were seven separate voices, three of them female and four males.
"You should be able to hear me now, even though you're still unconscious. In training, we are taught to communicate as soon as possible. We are part of an operation that operates behind enemy lines, mostly in the former United States. The details can wait until you are awake. Everything you see, hear, and touch will come through me. I am your partner, my name is Blackbird.
