Kummer/Crossing Paths pt3
From Unofficial Handbook of the Virtue Universe
Kummer blinked, the sat up abruptly, too abruptly. Immediately, the world spun drunkenly. He clasped his head as if he was Iceberia having to listen to Brigid’s Verse recite more of her epic poems.
“Kummer hurt,” he groaned, “why hurt?”
Blinking, he glanced around slowly, dimly remembering the last few moments. The flash of light, which he dimly remembered secondary explosions, and a cloud of dust that swallowed him and Sergeant Baker.
“Sam!” he croaked in alarm. He was rewarded with a hand on his arm. He blinked, and looked up.
“Right here, Hero,” she said, smiling, squatting down next to him. Her uniform was spattered with dust and the slime residue the Vahzilok creations seemed to literally generate. Her mini-gun was nearby, powered down. “You took a good hit to the head, you ok?”
The man-wolf nodded slowly, “Kummer ok. Kummer heal.”
“Still, better come with me, I’ll get the medics to check you out,” the sergeant said.
Kummer’s smile melted away. He looked down, dejected. They were on a stretch of the Mercy Island beach. One of the blissful few areas that was not overcrowded by gang bangers, smugglers or the like. The hybrid dug a claw in the sand.
“No,” he said at last, “Kummer no go.”
“Why?” Sergeant Baker asked curiously.
How can I explain? Kummer wondered with a sigh. Fehral warned me to never say anything about what the Company did, their technology, or any of it. Said I would be punished. He shuddered, then looked up at the sergeant.
“Kummer … “ he began, then words failed him. Slowly, he dug a wrinkled brochure out of a pocket of his leather jumpsuit. He swiped two as a means to try and practice reading once he realized they had robbed him of that as well. He handed one to the sergeant. “... Kummer can’t run, too tired. Sam can arrest Kummer … but …” he swallowed, “Kummer won’t survive... won’t be allowed.”
Kneeling beside him, Sergeant Baker fliped open the brochure. She’d seen it before, most Longbow working the Rogue Isles had. Infinity Incorporated. One Longbow Warden jokingly called them “Little Crey”. Other Longbow had other stories, less humorous, of longbow being attacked by ‘rented’ beings of power. Some with amazing agility, dark powers, and some were animal-human hybrids that followed the powered humanoid’s commands like minions or pets or something.
The sergeant looked up from the brochure at a battered, exhausted, and helpless Kummer. She put a hand over her eyes. “Oh, Kummer...” her voice trailed off.
Kummer hung his head. Anything else hurt just too damn much. He waited for the inevitable: manacles, or shock prod or whatever Longbow used. When nothing came, he glanced up into Sergeant Baker’s sad, but determined eyes.
“I’ll have to get going, if I’m to report in what we found about that cargo ship and its crew being in danger,” she said. She tilted her head at him, “you’ll be ok?”
He nodded dumbly, unsure of what to say. Standing up, she collected her custom mini-gun. Finally, words returned to him. “No … no arrest? No shoot Kummer?”
Longbow Sergeant Samantha Baker slid the strap over her shoulder and pulled out a small radio. She tapped a sequence then waved to a team in a patrol craft in the distance.
“Kummer?” she said curiously at Kummer. “That name’s familiar … German for ‘grief’. Wait, oh yeah, he’s a person of interest in some outpost raids. Never laid eyes on him myself. If you see him, you’ll send me word, right, Hero?”
Kummer smiled, his head ached, and oddly so did his heart, but he wasn’t sure why. He nodded. “Yes, Sam.” he said softly, “I send word.”
She leaned down to ruffle the fur between his ears a moment. “Good. You be careful.” The sergeant walked off a few paces, then held up the wrinkled brochure in a free hand, “be seein’ you.”
Kummer watched her walk to the approaching patrol craft, before he slipped away to the dark shadow of a building. Quietly, he crouched, watching her walk down the shore. He figured by the daylight, he only had a few hours left before he had to go back … to the cage, to that jerk Iceberia, to the hyenas, to all of it. Kummer leaned his head against the rough brick, and let out a ragged, long, sad sigh.
Against all odds, while he hoped she would lease him, a more rational part knew she would never be able to. The Company would figure out who she was and never let it happen, thinking Longbow was after the Alphas or Deltas. That is, if the Company didn’t just have Sam killed for trying … or worse. Then there is Longbow; doubtful they would let one of their sergeants have enough money to lease an Alpha, even a busted one like Kummer.
When she turned to look back, Kummer waved slowly. He smiled when he swore that he saw her wave back.
Fehral told Kummer some of why free time was so important. He hadn’t understood before. Now?
“Kummer get,” he said.
