Fervor

Lucy scrambled next to the strange machine. It looked like a concoction between a tank and a basting bulb. Her eyes traced the curves and inclines from the hover mechanism to the closed iris that was the entrance. She let a little smile curl her lips as she pulled a stiletto from the inside of her boot and rammed it into the smallest of slits next to the iris.

The iris trembled before opening the smallest of bits. Dawnie, standing beside her, smiled as well and jammed a hunk of metal into the opening, wedging it in as much as possible. It was a piece of someone's unfortunate vehicle, destroyed in the ongoing battle.

The adults had mostly fled this part of the battlefield, regrouping out of the weird tank's range of attack. Some were watching as the two girls wrenched open the iris, slowly coming to their feet and looking restless as if they wished to charge forward.

"Peel her open, Dawnie," Lucy said, jumping free and looking around for another piece of metal.

Dawnie jerked backwards as a beam of light pierced through the hunk of metal. A carol of laughter pealed outwards, lilting over the battlefield. Lucy chuckled as she picked up a hefty shard of metal.

"Aren't they feisty!" Lucy said cheerfully as she returned and jammed her makeshift crow bar into the opening. "Ready on three?" Dawnie nodded. "Three!"

They both pulled, making the iris forcefully open. Lucy reflected that they must have skimped on the tech else they wouldn't have been able to disable the lock so easily.

"Watch out!" Someone called, their voices hoarse.

Lucy looked up to see another of the strange tanks swiveling its muzzle towards them. Dawnie saw it, blanched and was gone, a swirl of dust in her wake. Lucy frowned, letting her new crowbar go. The damaged iris only half closed, and there were sounds of panicked scrambling coming from its interior.

Lucy flinched as it bellowed its payload at her, wincing at the acrid bite on her arms. She felt the brief burn before it died down to a gentle sizzle. She cracked an eyelid to see her jacket bubbling into obscurity.

"That was my favorite jacket!" She snarled, staring down at the remnants of her outfit. The only thing untouched was the hot short ensemble she had on underneath her jeans and t-shirt. "Do you know how long it took me to dye that thing," she asked as she reached down and grabbed a thin piece of metal in her hand. It was corroding away even as she stalked forward. "Let me explain it to you," she continued as she reached the new tank's iris.

*****

"Are you about done," Cassidy asked, sitting cross legged on top of the tank.

Lucy blew away an errant curl of hair. Then she paused and grabbed the curl, studying it with both eyes, nearly crossing them.

"It got greener," she exclaimed, outrage clearly in every line of her body.

Cassidy leaned forward a bit. Then she nodded.

"Yep, you're greener," Cassidy agreed. She glanced at the remnants of the tank's crew scattered around. "Did you really have to drag them out and smother them in that stuff?"

"They started it," Lucy said, shaking her fingers clean of goop. "It's not my fault they can't stand a little bit of poison."

Cassidy bit back a laugh. Some of the unfortunates were half-dissolved by the 'little bit of poison' while Lucy herself seemed paler with greener hair. The laugh was tempered by memory. She still remembered when she first met Lucy; Lucy's hair had been a shade of honey blonde at the time, at complete odds with the nearly bleached and green hair she had now. Cassidy mused that it would be best if she didn't mention the new streak of green where one of her last locks of bleach blonde had been.

Cassidy glanced to the side. She'd long noticed her grandfather wreaking havoc along the edges of the battlefield, spittle flying. He seemed particularly enraged. She sighed. She should have never have expected that Lucy wouldn't have forwarded her file to her family. Cassidy had successfully deflected all attempts by them to glean any information about her time in the creches.

It hadn't been until she'd gone home and absentmindedly answered an innocent sounding query from her little brother about what quartermasters did that she'd realized the damage that had been done. Either Rena or Lucy had sent the file to her grandfather who'd shared it with her father and the rest of the family.

She'd wondered when she returned to her lab why it had been so easy to skirt the usual security protocols. Cassidy's anger had died down little by little as she assembled her own forces and shooed her little brother back to his safe little school.

"Well, now you're a bit paler than usual, but look! No more weird tank thing," Cassidy said, thumping the tank she was sitting on.

Lucy shot her a silent, fulminating glare. Cassidy shrugged it off.

"You want to talk mad? How about my dossier?" Cassidy asked, leaning forward, eyes bright with curiosity.

Lucy blinked her eyes. Then she looked away.

"Oh, so where on earth did Dawnie go?" Lucy asked, her voice considerably chippier than it had been.

"Lucy," Cassidy ground out.

"There she is! Let's go see what she's found," Lucy practically chirped, nearly sprinting away.

Cassidy watched her run, her jaw working. Then she threw up her hands and stood up. As she took a step forward, a floating platform appeared under her feet. They continued appearing as she walked towards where Dawnie was standing, idly munching on another of those bars she and her brother were constantly eating.

Cassidy made a mental note to snag one for analysis. Whatever they were made of helped keep their metabolisms in check, and that was a very good thing. She regretted that she hadn't kept in closer contact with them. Obviously, whatever tinkering had been done had screwed them up royally in puberty.

"How do they keep up with you?" Dawnie asked, eyes sparkling at the floating platforms.

"They wouldn't be able to keep up with you," Cassidy replied. She glanced towards her grandfather who was happily blowing something up. "We're going to have to talk about people's privacy and all that when this is over."

"Ah!" Dawnie exclaimed. "They got you, too? My mom was so mad, I thought steam was going to actually shoot out of her ears," she confided confidentially. "Me and Don left ASAP after that. Phone is still turning cherry from all the calls."

Cassidy giggled. Dawnie was always making the most amusing observations. Then they both turned to Lucy.

"Hey! Better they know than not," Lucy said with an earnest expression. She smoothed back a lock of hair behind her ears and then frowned at her fingers, shaking them to dislodge the last of the poisonous goop. "How many more of those things are there?"

"Too many," Cassidy replied. "Thankfully, no here, though. Traced their manufacture to an exotic arms dealer in South America."

"No," Dawnie said as Lucy brightened up. "You're too young to go to Carnival, and Court would actually kill me."

"Spoilsports," Lucy muttered, kicking at a tuft of grass. She glanced towards the bulk of the creche. "How about we go rescue people instead, then?"

"Thought you'd forgotten," Cassidy snarked as she stepped to the ground. She snapped her fingers. There was a whining groan of approaching hydraulics and rotors.

"Let's have some mayhem," Lucy said, staring at the approaching robotic army as Cassidy and Dawnie laughed.