One hundred and seventeen: The Weasel and Golden Retriever

With trembling hands and careful movements, I emptied the bag one piece at a time. It helped keep my mind from the growing pain. I scrutinised each piece and grimaced. Useless. Useless and broken. I separated the good from the bad and frowned at the sole remaining hard disk that might still be useable. From looking at everything, I'd have to go scavenging and building my computer from scratch again.

"These are all computer parts, aren't they?" a policeman squatted down, looking at the pieces scattered on the ground. "Did you build your own computer?"

I nodded slowly, having a feeling I shouldn't have nodded the moment I did. That sinking feeling became more evident when he asked the next question.

"We found the remains of a jerry rigged computer in the backend of an alley a few days ago. Was that yours?"

My eyes probably gave me away when I glanced at him and looked away. My reactions were still too honest.

"Why did you take it apart and move away?"

Was there even any need to answer such a stupid question? Should I have waited there for your kind to come across me in my hiding place? There was no point.

The policeman scratched his head under his hat at my eyeroll. There was an awkward silence before they started trying to get me to talk to them again and find out my name. Steadfast in ignoring them, I thought about what I should do with the remains of my computer. In the midst of a small speech one policeman was intent on needing to know my name and telling me how I was safe, Corben suddenly stopped him with a hand on his colleague's arm.

"Miss, could it actually be that you're mute and can't speak?"

I figured this was as good a time as any to let them believe whatever they wanted to think. By this time I had finished putting all the pieces back in the bag. With what effort I could muster, I slowly pushed the bag over toward him.

"What's this?" he asked and I pointed at the bag, then at him."For me? I was right? I don't understand."

I nodded and pointed and then leant back with a grimace. The pain was increasing. Tossing my head side to side only barely relieved some of the symptoms.

"Hang in there. The ambulance should be here soon."

"So you've been living on the streets, huh?" said the other policeman again, rather unhelpfully. I ignored him. Did he know nothing but to state the obvious?

Shutting my eyes, I tried to concentrate or try to find a way, any way of easing the pain. I barely listened to the police anymore because the pain was taking up all of my concentration. There was a breath of wind and more uniforms were by my side. Blurry people making blurry sounds.

"Suck on this green whistle," a woman said and a hard plastic thing was placed in my mouth. "It's a pain killer. It'll help. We have to move you onto the stretcher and it's likely to hurt a lot."

I took a few sucks and almost sighed with relief when after a long moment, the edge of the pain eased, allowing me to breathe once more. At the same time, a wave of lightheaded dizziness swept me away. Unable to keep up with the internal perturbation in my head caused by the strong painkillers, I was swept along with the current out into the dark.

When I woke up again, a certain older looking floppy haired weasel was sitting by my bed with his new partner, a lovely young golden haired retriever girl. She looked overly bright and fresh out of the agent academy - wherever it was that trained people like them. It wasn't too much of a surprise to see Mr Cooper, I supposed. They would have sent someone who knew me and I was pretty sure Alistair had retired. I didn't want to know how they had identified me.

"Good afternoon, Jean. It's nice to see you again."

I turned my face away from him. I didn't like him and he didn't like me. The feeling was mutual and there was no point in keeping up the niceties. His new sidekick looked a little affronted and lost.

"I'm glad they cleaned you up. You fairly reeked."

Nodding my agreement, I didn't meet his eyes, so he came around the bed. As often as I turned my head, that was how often he switched seats. So I stared up at the ceiling.

"You haven't been looking after yourself," he said and there was a hint of discomfort in his eyes. After all, he had seen me during the various stages of the war looking better… or worse. "Alistair's on his way, by the way. He was shocked when I told him what the doctors told me. They said you have some very fragile bones there, despite your young age and have sustained multiple fractures. They had to stabilise them with rods and plates and screws." Still ignoring him, I heard the impatience creeping into his voice. "The police had a look at what they could recover from those hard drives you had with you after the doctor treating you recognised who you were. You thought you could keep hiding, huh? Not a bad plan. I thought you must have died or something, but here you are again. It seems you built up quite a name and following for yourself on the internet. You helped a lot of people, but broke quite a lot of laws. I guess you conveniently forgot you're banned from technology? It's about time you were tried for all your crimes anyway. I'm quite looking forward to your trial, you know."

I rolled my eyes again and waited. Sniffing my arm, I smelt the soap and couldn't help smiling at the fact that I was clean. The constant itching was finally gone. Touching my hair, I realised that it had been cut short. I guessed that it had been too matted to comb out again.

At my smile, Mr Cooper seemed to also release a slightly gentle smile and the golden retriever girl watched us in confusion. He must have told her about me, but what he had said could have been nigh anything.