Chapter 24: Choice

There was the sound of birds; of leaves rustling gently in the sweet-scented wind. There was the feeling of the warm fingers of sunlight across her face. She opened her eyes and saw outside the window fat white clouds meandering across the cerulean sky, blurring the sun's rays and passing to let them shine through once more. So, she thought to herself, This is Heaven.

"You're awake," a small, excited voice called out.

She turned her head away from the window and met face to face with a beautiful, delicate, teary-eyed Angel. It was an Angel she knew. "I'm sorry," she suddenly cried to the Angel in despair, "I tried to protect you. I did my best… my very best. But I guess it wasn't good enough to save either of us, and now we're both here."

The Angel tilted her head, staring quizzically and then replied laughingly, suddenly understanding, "Claes, you're in the infirmary at the Social Welfare Agency. You – we… are home."

It was then that Claes heard them: the mundane sounds of humanity. She heard the steady beeping of the electrocardiogram sitting next to her and the scurrying of nurses and doctors outside in the hallway. Claes heard the flipping of paper as Angelica fingered the pages of the thin children's book in her hand. "How did I…?" Claes started to ask, however she wasn't quite sure how to phrase the question on her mind.

"..Survive?" Angelica finished for her. Claes nodded her head doubtfully and Angie answered, "It really was a miracle. That metal collar you were wearing was damaged beyond repair and Marco had to use power tools to remove it, but underneath, your neck was fine. The doctors say that if you hadn't had the collar on, your neck would have been broken."

Claes' jaw dropped slightly. "Wow," she said blankly as she rubbed her throat which was bare for the first time in weeks, "That's… horribly ironic. It feels nice having the collar off, though. What about the rest of my body?"

Angelica smiled and said, "The doctors had to replace one of your arms and the leg that was hit by the sniper, but other than that all they had to do was remove the bullets in your body and patch up the wounds."

Claes shook her head in denial. "No," she said, "There's no way I could have survived. I was shot at point-blank range by a magnum multiple times."

"The building you were in collapsed on top of you too," Angelica added nonchalantly.

"It what?!" Claes exclaimed.

Angelica explained, "While you were inside of the central Jackal structure, the Desert Children mistakenly sent in their car bombs and demolished it. You managed to survive, though, because you ended up in a hollow in the rubble."

Claes almost whispered, "I'm not that lucky, Angie…"

Angelica giggled, "I agree. But you were this time."

"What happened to Hadi and the Desert Children?"

"Both are just the same as the day we met them. On the record, we never set foot in Algeria, so they never 'officially' did anything. Hadi is still of the chief of the Algiers police force and Faiz is still the leader of a pack of desert-dwelling mercenaries. They are a little better off when it comes to equipment, though."

Claes pouted, "They all deserve to get medals." Suddenly, she remembered her mission in Algeria and asked anxiously, "What about the Jackals?"

Angelica smiled and answered, "They won't be a problem for anyone anymore."

Claes sighed in relief and then there was an overwhelming, yet calm silence as both girls contemplated what to say next. They had come frighteningly close to losing one another, so a casual conversation seemed impossible. At the same time, Claes was too embarrassed and Angelica too shy to have a loving, tear-filled reunion.

"So…" Claes started unsurely, "What happens now?"

Angelica instantly became somber and said slowly, "Well, you have some choices."

"Such as…?"

"I think we should wait until Marco gets here."

Claes frowned, but decided not to pursue the issue. If Angelica was uncomfortable with telling her the choices, then obviously the choices weren't very favorable. She changed the subject, "What are you reading?"

Angelica showed her the title, The Prince in the Land of Pasta. "Marco gave me this book. At first I didn't remember what the story was, but with the doctors' work I was able to remember that Marco used to always tell me this story when I went in to get my shots. He stopped when my memories started failing."

"The doctors have done a lot for our survivability, haven't they?"

"They couldn't have done it without you."

Before Claes could give her touching comments on the life of a guinea pig, there was a knock at the open door and both cyborgs turned to see Marco standing in the doorway. "Welcome home, Claes," he said in his typically serious manner.

"Hello Marco," Claes answered in a similar tone.

"So," Marco said with a hint of a smirk on his face, "Have you made up your mind yet?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Do you want to live, or die?" Marco delivered his punchline with as much comical inflection as someone giving a eulogy at a funeral.

"Oh, I see," Claes replied blankly, yet somehow playfully, "You're not very good with jokes Marco."

"So I'm told, but even I am allowed to make one every now and then."

"So," Claes said in a very business-like manner, "Why don't we just get to it?"

"I agree," Marco responded, "The Agency has given you two options, but I've managed to get Chief Lorenzo to consider giving you a third. First, they wipe your memories again and you go back to your life before the hypnosis treatment. I'll warn you now, though. Dr. Belisario has told me that with the amount of tampering that your mind has already experienced, there's a high chance that you will experience psychological trauma with another mind wipe."

"Well," Claes said in mock nonchalance, "That option doesn't sound very appealing. What is the second?"

"The second option," Marco started grimly, glancing quickly at Angelica who had suddenly turned very pale and was biting her lip nervously, "Is to have the Agency 'euthanize' you."

Claes tried to come off as casual, and honestly was not surprised by the second option. What surprised her was having an option at all. Marco must have fought hard with the Chief to evacuate her from Algeria to save her, especially considering the condition she was in. "But…" Claes tried countering, "I'm not terminally ill or anything like that. How could killing me be considered euthanasia?"

"The 'official' records say that all of the children living in the Agency are here for medical treatments and prosthetics, and technically this is true. It shouldn't be too hard to conceive a story about one of these children suffering from a chronic disease, should anyone come poking around."

Claes almost laughed. "I see how it is."

Marco said reproachfully, and with regret, "I'm not getting any satisfaction or relief from telling you this Claes. The Agency thinks that the memories you have of Raballo are dangerous and give you incentive to betray us, but I know better. Don't talk to me as if I personally wanted this for you."

"Didn't you though?"

"No," Marco answered immediately and indignantly. However, at Claes' piercing gaze, he admitted shamefully, "Well… yes, at first. I was afraid of the threat you posed for us, but I quickly realized that you were a loyal soldier not because of the collar I had around your throat, but because of this girl I have by my side." He put his arm around the blushing Angelica's shoulders and pulled her close. "…As well as for the other girls," he finished quietly.

Claes was silent for some time. Marco had changed. Whether it was because of something she had done, or their experiences in Algeria, she wasn't sure. However, what was certain was Marco's genuine concern for her and Angelica. "You said there might be a third option," Claes said plainly. It was a useless statement, though, because she already knew what the third option was. Also, in her mind she had already made her choice.

"The Chief is considering letting you keep your memories and your life without further conditioning, but in exchange you have to go back out on the field and wear the shock collar again."

"Would they assign me a new handler?" Claes asked.

"No," Marco answered, "I wouldn't allow it. You would be working with Angelica and I."

Claes pretended to think for a moment, looking at Marco. In reality, she just wanted to take in her surroundings; the birdsongs, breeze, sunlight, and even the electrocardiogram. Most of all, though, she wanted to take in the sight of her second handler holding close her sweet, reddened, embarrassed sister. Claes wanted to absorb all of it, the most perfect scene in her life, before she destroyed it, and with this thought tears came to her eyes for the second time as she tore them away from Marco and Angelica. Wordlessly and with head hung low, she held up two fingers. Her choice.

"Are you sure?" Marco asked softly, like the most loving father a daughter could ask for. When Claes nodded, Marco sighed shakily, close to shedding a tear. "In that case I have to inform the Chief." He released Angelica, whose mouth had suddenly shrunk as she pursed her lips and looked down at the tiled floor, holding back her saltwater sorrow.

Before leaving the room, however, Marco found the courage to turn around. "Claes," he said, audibly choking, "I… I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I know it's no consolation, but after getting to work with you… I know now why Raballo tried what he did. Maybe… maybe I shouldn't have stopped him after all."

Claes answered, sage-like and forgiving, "You're wrong Marco. That is the only consolation I've ever wanted in my life."

Marco nodded and hesitantly turned to leave and seal his new friend's fate. There was nothing else that needed to be said between the two of them.

Now only Claes and Angelica remained in the hospital room, the former looking at the latter, trying to get her attention. However, Angelica was distracted by the pain she felt.

"This is the part," Claes said, trying to uplift her friend, "Where you hit me and tell me that if I want to die I should kill myself."

Angelica finally looked into Claes' eyes, not in despair or sadness, but with strength. "We were immature back then," she said, "If we could back, knowing what we know now, I wouldn't have said what I said, and you wouldn't have done what you did.

I understand you now, Claes, and I know you understand me."

"So you know why I made my choice?"

"Of course. You won't take the first option because you don't want to forget again. It's not the danger of brain damage that keeps you from choosing that fate. You won't choose it because you would be betraying Raballo if you did."

Claes nodded and said approvingly, "Very good. But why won't I choose the third option if I get to live and keep my memories of him?"

Angelica answered immediately and confidently, "It's because of your promise with Raballo. It always has been about that promise. You know that Raballo wasn't concerned with the way you act with and without those glasses. He wanted your freedom and if he could make it so you would always think before acting based on your own judgment and conditions rather than that of the Agency's, then at least he could leave you with that instead of just your training, your gun, and the blood on your hands."

"Angelica," Claes said beaming at her beloved friend, "No one else could have said that better than you. Not me, nor all of the books in the world. I do have one request, though."

"Anything. What is it?"

"Could you read that book to me?" Claes pointed at Angelica's story, "I heard Priscilla talking about it a while back, and I never thought it was real. But now that I know it is…"

"Of course I'll read it to you, Claes," Angelica said, opening the book to the first page.

Claes made to wipe the tears from her eyes and was surprised when her hand contacted something, shifting her view and vision. She had been wearing her glasses the whole time and she hadn't realized it.

"Oh," Angelica said, smiling a smile with a mixture of happiness, satisfaction, and melancholy, "And thank you, Claes, for keeping your promise."

Claes laughed and sat up attentively as Angelica started. "Once upon a time, there was a land of pasta…"

And there was not a birdsong sweet enough, a breeze strong enough, nor a war terrible enough to take Claes' attention away from Angelica.

Fin