Capitans' pub

Another peaceful night in Ark City. Gili walked leisurely down the empty streets. She didn't notice the cold trying to seep through her clothes. She was oblivious to the extreme heat during daytime as well. Even the rain, light and scattered almost non-existant, never managed to break the monotony. Month after month, year after year, the climate hardly changed.

She straightened her gauntlet. The metal cover on top held and hid the injection catheter for the daily Worshiping ceremonies. Nukledeus was, indeed, a demanding God. Her gauntlet, however, didn't need to be adjusted. The gesture was totally useless, only part of her own routine, showing that she was worried and felt the need to gather her ideas. Lost in thought and out of habit, she checked her forearm to made sure that the thin flexible pipes were correctly attached, then she raised her head and stared towards the Sarcophagus.

She realized that it was late at night, the Temple acolytes had already closed the dome in order to enforce the day-night rhythm but Gili knew that, inside the Sarcophagus at the Ark's core, light shone non-stop. Nukledeus provided without fail the precious and most vital energy to the city and extended its protection to the true believers, the Arkians of Light.

She looked at the great clock atop the Temple. One hour left before reporting to work, there was plenty of time to go and see Chloé at the Capitans' pub. She heaved a weary sigh and quickly prayed to Nukledeus for her friend, she earnestly begged every night for It to protect Chloé and herself all through the dark hours and to bestow them with its light for all eternity.

Then, she hurried her steps and climbed the stairs towards the deck leading to the pub. In spite of herself, worry and concern were spreading all over her mind, marking her forehead with an unsightly crease. She took her helmet off and ran her fingers on her bald scalp, no arkians had any hair. Dreading to find a dead drunk Chloé, she pushed the door and walked into the Capitans' den. The place, bustling and noisy during the evening, was almost empty.

As usual, Gili had dinner in this pub a few hours before with all the squadrons and sections chiefs. The meals were better than the staff canteen, alcohol was flowing and a group of dancers were putting on a show, vying to be the most flexible in endless lascivious dances, in order to collect as many tips as possible. On this evening, at dinner, Chloé was absent again. Ever since the discovery of her twin Daphné's lifeless corpse, she was slowly sinking deeper in nervous breakdown and Gili didn't know how to help her get back on her feet.

Looking at the distant counter, she was astounded not to find her friend together with a bottle of gin. Scanning the whole room, she found Chloé at last, here to take refuge in the darker corner to drown her sorrow in alcohol.

Gili went closer. The heels of her heavy boots hit the floor, each step resounding with a clapping noise. Her uniform from the elite Police squadrons were designed to impress, not to go unnoticed. Sometimes, she really felt envious of the ordinary-looking outfit of the Special Forces.

Her face hidden by her hands, Chloé was seated with her back towards the entrance, however she knew that Gili had arrived. They had been bosom buddies for years now and, from the moment Daphné decided to leave Nukledeus' light more than ten years ago, Chloé had gradually transferred her attachment from her twin sister to her best friend. Daphné's death destroyed everything in Chloé's life, thank goodness Gili remained by her side, strong and steady.

Not a minute went by without Chloé thinking about her sister. It had been years since Daphné became a No-Light. She chose her own way and left everything without a single glance. She was so full of life, rebellious, eccentric that life itself felt dull without her. How Chloé wished she could have seen her twin alive again ! Her death was simply unbearable. Despite Gili and her other comrades, Chloé felt like a walking dead. The burden weighing on her chest was so heavy every breath hurt. She didn't want to live anymore knowing that her twin was no more but she knew she was too cowardly to act accordingly.

Gili took a seat facing her friend and was waiting quietly. An empty, forsaken glass was on the table in front of her but she didn't mind it. She was observing an imaginary stain on the tablecloth, not knowing where to start and unwilling to interrupt the sinister thoughts of her friend.

Finally, Chloé raised her head and stared at Gili with her steel-blue eyes. Without a word, she took the bottle of gin and poured the transparent liquid in Gili's glass and then in her own. Her hand was slightly shaking, her bloodshot eyes had a glazed look due to the alcoholic vapors. She'd probably stayed in the pub to drink for several hours instead of resting. In the main room, only the buzzing of a fly could be heard as well as the noise of someone cleaning and tidying the dishes in the adjoining kitchen.

Like every night for a year, Chloé raised her glass, whispering : "Cheers to Daphné !" and Gili copied her movement, saying : "May she rest in peace and may Nukledeus forgive her and welcome her in Its light..."

Chloé swallowed the content of her glass in one gulp whereas Gili was slowly sipping the thick and slightly slimy liquid that burnt her throat. After performing this unchanging ritual, Gili started to talk about the next patrol, hoping to bring Chloé back to reality and help her realize that life must go on for her, with Nukledeus'Blessing.

– Some No-Lights poured Lichens again, trying to obstruct and block our river off. This rotten mess grows so fast that we'll have to go outside to get rid of it. Such wicked weeds to pull ! Sometimes, I get the feeling that this stuff does not need any light in order to take over all the available space.

Chloé forced a smile. Gili was doing her best to get her mind off things.

How could Chloé not feel grateful for her friend's unwavering support and loyalty in these dark hours ? But Gili was not fooled. Chloé's smile was rigid, her facial expression remained stern and the gloomy veil of her memories rendered her eyes cold and unfathomable. After a noticeable silence, Chloé answered, as usual slightly off-topic :

– If, one day, the No-lights from outside joined forces with the arkian No-lights, we would be in serious trouble…

– We received some news of Mona, the Shadow Girls'head. I heard she had been spotted underground during the last "Fox raid". The Special Forces were forewarned, their informants are more and more reliable.

Gili knew Chloé had been interested in the Shadow Girls raids for a long time, every since Daphné joined the rebel group, long before Chloé and Gili even thought of enlisting in the elite Police squadrons. Mona was already leading the rebel group consisting of women only, the well-named Shadow Girls. No-lights living in Ark City needed to fend for themselves. They were forbidden from entering the large canteen and pubs and restaurants only attended to registered members. "Fox raids" aimed at foraging from shared hutch and chicken coop in search for food.

– Did they catch her ?

– Mona ? No, they didn't. But the patrol managed to wound her leg. Even if she doesn't die from this, she will certainly keep a low profile for a while. Meanwhile, another girl will probably lead the raids and it will be easier for us to catch them.

– Us ? You mean the Special Forces, I guess ? Chloé asked with a slight frown.

– Sure. Without Mona, I think there would be some kind of huge strife between Bertille, Flora and Mathilde. Perhaps Perrine as well. The Shadow Girls may even implode.

– Mona is not dead yet. A battle for succession is still out of the question !

Gili racked her brain, looking for another topic. She felt she stepped on slippery grounds but found it harder and harder to select another subject able to prick Chloé's interest and drag her out of her seeming apathy. She wanted to provoke her, elicit a response and she succeeded. Now she feared her friend's ire, all the more ready to lose her temper as her alcohol level was high. Chloé didn't have Daphné's exuberance but they did share a strong and temperamental personality. To get out of this misstep, Gili chose to flee. It was, in any case, high time to report to her work. A squadron's chief had to be punctual and flawless. Gili knew it, Chloé as well.

Standing up to take her leave of her friend, Gili couldn't help but let out a stream of advice and warnings, even though she swore to keep them to herself. And, as usual, Chloé was staring at her empty glass while lazily waving her hand, telling Gili to leave or to go to hell, her meaning far from crystal-clear to the hypothetical onlookers. "Go ahead, I'll catch up later."

Deep down, Gili hoped that her friend was really telling her that she would go to work and that she would organize her patrol with her team in good time, namely in exactly six hours, in time to relieve the patrolling squads. She turned around and started to walk away when Chloé's voice stopped her in her tracks.

– During the last terpa, Mona was the one to bring me back. She saved my life.

Gili turned on her heels to have a proper look at her friend who was still silently mulling over her empty glass. Not knowing what to say, she finally left the Capitans' pub. Her worries and the bad alcohol were twisting and coiling her bowels. The night ahead promised to be a very long one. Walking back to her squadron, Gili sent a heartfelt prayer to Nukledeus for the scenario of the last territorial patrol (terpa) never to happen again.