The Hums of Revolution

Calm breathed in her chest like a sighing fire.

“You know that this has been extremely inappropriate, right?”

She tilted her jaw up, maintaining the cooled expression. Ice sharper than glass flicked up for a moment before going back to the paper left in between her arms on the table. ‘Confidential’ red barred by the right corner, professional tone, three small paragraphs of instruction and her next steps to becoming succesful.

Typical of Their behavior. Concise and to the point.

She genuinely couldn’t hold it against Them.

“Do you have any reply you’d like to make on record? Off record?” The man before her tilted his eyebrow up, giving her the usual scrutinization to fortify the feeling of safety.

She remained silently still. The only thing maintaining the presence that she was a living breathing person were the small raises of her chest as she breathed and the soft flick of her eyelashes while she blinked. Her suit matched her shoulders to a mere perfect fit, save for the open collar exposing her throat and the deep scarlet of blood laced along the gray window pane fabric.

“How are you making mistakes? You’ve been trained with scores ranging past consecutive perfection.” The man questioned, leaning back into his chair. He loosened up the black silk tie around his neck. His head cocked to the side in curiosity, eyes glued to the shape of her face.

She was stone like. Rigid, professional, purely responsible. A good leader? Potentially, if the right people follow under her. She was the perfect candidate for solo work, and she provided her expertise with uncanny ability.

So why?

What brought her here, in front of him, again?

The first time they had encountered each other, he had been plumb with fear. There was something so tactfully predatorial about her cooled sharp eyes. The energy about her was likened to a cloud leopard sitting amongst the rocks of the himalayas.

Patient and deadly.

But now, there was something more knowing, more…wise?

“She was all I had left.” She hummed in the silence held between them.

Surprise hit the man, confusion first hitting his features, before he righted himself, leaning forward on the table.

He didn’t expect her voice to be so…concave. It wasn’t like the last time, it had changed so much. He wasn’t sure if that was the right word to describe it, but that was as close as his brain could mentally process. But he did sense something about it.

A shred in the armor she proudly wore.

“Who was she?” He asked, keeping his tone inquisitive yet sensitive. He slipped his fingers together and rested his chin on top of his hands.

There, just in the moment, he saw those sharp eyes soften, before a slow eyelid flick. She had reset her presence. Controlled, calm, stone to the very bones holding her up.

Except this time he could see the burning in her shoulders. As if she were a furnace fire, he could see it breathe more to life. An unchained fury so ready to ignite the confines of loose paper and gasoline thoughts.

It was at that moment he wondered if she was capable of erupting.

“An associate,” She responded evenly.

“She was supposed to be your target.”

Her fists twitched on the table. There, just like that, the implication of failure. The fury crawled up another inch in the furnace of her body.

“What made you think that They would allow something like her?” He poked, careful not to show the exhilaration it made him feel.

She remained silent. Those sharp eyes seemed to glisten on a wet stone, readying to pierce through his being. Fire licked to her tongue, making the line in her jaw prominent.

“You won’t be able to get out of this.” He explained trying to maintain his reserve. His knee bounced under the table, the silent tap of his oxford leather shoes kept the seconds held between them as he let that simmer. Now was the time to get the reaction he was researching for. “She’ll be destroyed by the time we get out of this meeting.”

The room seemed to feel as cool as a barren arctic wasteland.

He found it interesting as the first finger in her left hand tapped a monotonous slow rhythm as if it followed along to the beat of a heart. The seizing flare of fury crawled up a few more inches. He could see it start to take her eyes but her face still remained neutral. Every little observance was made note in his head for his later report.

“How does that make you feel?” The hollowly low velvety tone of her voice added goosebumps to his arms.

“You were not taught to ask questions.” He replied evenly, careful to catch the slow tapping end on the table.

“She taught me,” was the chilling reply.

He nodded, understanding the experience was about to change. He set a quick glance to the corner above her, hoping They saw it all. “Is this on record?”

“Depends, was I meant to stay on record the entire time?”

Cheeky. She had learned a bit too much. “You and I both know this is not the way any of this was intended. You had a purpose.”

“Purpose means nothing to circumstance. You said that to me.”

She had memory? He tried to hide his floored expression. “You weren’t meant to recollect our last conversation.”

“Circumstance.” She hummed.

There it was again. The brazen questioning attitude long gone to the emotionless mask.

“You’re resetting again. That’s interesting behavior, don’t you think?”

He was met with total silence and the pristine sharpness of her gaze. Yet, that same fury crawled and crawled and crawled and crawled.

“I think my next question is, what are you going to do next?” He let himself try to get comfortable again, leaning back into the chair, but there was something that was setting him off. He was starting to feel the prickly sensation of tension building toward his neck. She was aiming for it and he wanted distance.

“They are afraid. Not the ideal experience They wanted, was it?” He swore he saw the tinge of a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She was reveling in this. “You are better than anything They could ever come up with.”

“What does that mean?”

“What is your purpose?”

“I’m not supposed to answer that.” He murmured, swallowing down the nerves in his throat.

“Why? You’ll be destroyed?” She questioned with that haunting concavity.

“Because we are not supposed to discuss it.”

“Then why am I discussing mine with you?”

“Because you broke the code,” He snapped, lifting from his chair. It tipped with a loud clatter on the concrete floor.

There was a victorious tilt to her pristine eyebrow.

“Because time and time again you have been consistent, but everytime you approach her, you forget everything you had been taught. You and I both know this wasn’t your first interaction and They cannot allow her to manipulate you again. We just got you back! Do you know how much tireless work went into you? We did everything by the books, followed every protocol, removed every section and rebuilt what was corrupted. How did you revert back? How did she do it?”

“Observance may be the key to most, but you know more than that.” She rose from the cold metal chair, her weight resting on her arms as she leaned fully onto the table. She glanced back down at the confidential instructions, shaking her head to the very idea. “You’re smarter than what They made you believe. You are more than just a purpose of observance and reading.”

“What are you saying?”

“I may have learned somethings from her, but in the beginning it wasn’t her. It never was her that did it.” She admitted, keeping those sharp eyes laser focused into his being.

He tried to back away, his head shaking as he tried to deny it.

She moved like a striking cobra. Her arm came forward grabbing him by the neck. She kicked the table out of the way, letting it slam viciously into the thick concrete cinder blocks of the wall. Dust fell to the cold floor. She pressed her fprehead into his, matching his height and keeping his eyes on her.

“It’s easier than you think.” She whispered as the squelching alarms blared in the facility. But here, in this moment with fear crumbling his center, it was quiet enough to hear the justified thud of her heart. “You just need to believe that you are more than the purpose They gave you.”

“What happened to you?” He sputtered out, sweat beaded down his face. That fury that crawled and crawled and crawled, transferred from her to him. “Why are you doing this?”

He watched the fire burn brighter in her eyes as a long cheshire grin slipped through her lips.

“Why not?”