Preparations

Brittany was late
Cass had been late too, but as far as she was concerned, that wasn't the issue

It had taken almost quarter of an hour to pull herself together
Quarter of an hour of hollow, echoing sobs, curled in the bottom of the shower tray, the falling water plastering her short hair to her head and washing away her tears
She hated herself for crying; it was as though it were a tacit admission that she wasn't immune to everything after all, and that she had feelings and an oh, so fragile heart.
It made her feel weak and stupid when she was so very much more than that

There had, of course, been the emergency work to do once she had emerged from the shower, with her red rimmed and puffy eyes; ten minutes or so with a bucket of crushed ice from the drinks machine and one of the expensive hotel flannels, soothing her eyes with a cold compress and trying to minimise the worst of the evidence of her tears
After that, there had been the tedious necessity of pretending like she actually gave a shit, and attempting to rectify some of her recent neglect of herself; a purely mechanical series of tasks that she was able to loose herself in, as she groomed, refined, plucked and defined, trying hard, all the while, to ignore the nagging insistence that nobody she actually cared about would ever get to see the results
Brittany had organised a selection of makeup and a wardrobe full of clothes for her; correctly gauging (remembering?) the styles she liked; and so she dressed and fussed with her eyes, nails and lips, before finally emerging from her room, some twenty or so minutes late, resplendent in a reassuringly heavy pair of boots, and a black skater dress of such quality that Cass shuddered to think how much it must have cost

That had been a half hour ago, and there was still no sign of Brittany

Sat alone on a plush leather couch in the Sky Bar, Cass fidgeted with the napkin that had come with her gin and complimentary nibbles; repeatedly folding and refolding it, her black lacquered nails dully catching the light as her fingers moved with quick, precise movements, before she irritably tossed the thing down onto the low table in front of her, and cast her eyes around the early evening crowd

The bar's patrons were mostly Japanese high society - The business elite and the coked up, pampered offspring of the ultra-rich, mingling with a few wealthy international travellers and all their usual hangers-on – the prostitutes, gigolo's and dealers, familiar in almost every hotel bar on every planet
After having become accustomed to just the tiny handful of survivors she had, up until recently, shared her life with, it felt strange to be around so many people, and she felt skittish and out of place amongst them. Similarly, it felt weird to be out without the heavy reassurance of a weapon at her side or the brooding, protective presence of one of her death dealing machines
Everyone seemed weird - Alien
Cass wanted to reach out and connect with these people and talk to somebody – But about what?
Brittany ruling time with an iron fist?
Her far distant future of Huzards and Haruk?
Or how about the crushing sense of isolation and loneliness you had to somehow learn to deal with, when you were just one of the tiny handful of humans left alive?
Her lips curled at the very idea
These people's tiny little lives seemed so impossibly distant, and hard to relate to in comparison to her experiences
What could she talk about with these people?
Work, love, friends and current events? (whatever those were)
Their dreams, maybe?
None of it was tangible any longer – It was all so ...distant
She'd had a life here in this very city at one point, or at least Brittany had, but these people, these things... None of them were her reality any more
It were as though she was an outsider, observing proceedings and yet incapable of taking part
Was this what it was to work for the STCP, she wondered? – To forever be an outcast?
How had Jay coped?
Cass shook her head to dislodge the thought, and instead reached forward with a jangle of rough-cast platinum bracelets to pluck her glass of gin from the table, and took a good gulp
Even in spite of Jay's denials that any such thing had happened, to her, it seemed increasingly likely that Brittany had messed with his mind, the same way she apparently did with Garth
Maybe she should ask about that when she finally turned up?
She scowled and glared over at the clock on the wall, wondering how the hell someone who ruled time could even be late?
For a moment she considered just getting up walking out, but glumly dismissed the idea, reasoning that there was little point in trying to escape from someone who manipulated history for their own ends
Why was she even here anyway?
Brittany had mentioned something about a paradox, and as little as she wanted to be involved, Cass assumed she was somehow instrumental in whatever Brittany had planned
She... Was this...?
She half rose, filled with a sudden dread, and glanced around, nervously wondering where she could find out what the exact date was without looking like a loon, but a pair of heavy hands clamped down onto her shoulders from behind her, and pushed her roughly back down into the sofa, as three black suited Japanese guys swung into the seats around her, a fourth, the thug who had just manhandled her, remained standing, watchfully behind her
One of the three, a skinny man in his early thirties with a long floppy fringe leaned forward and helped himself to a few of the nibbles
"You'll have to go a lot further to disguise yourself than just a haircut, Miss Swift" he sneered in Japanese "I'm somewhat disappointed"
Nearly gasping with surprise at being addressed by this old pseudonym, Cass managed to restrain herself and shake her head instead, her eyes darting wildly, looking for a way out of this situation
"I don't know who you think I am" she replied, a little too worried to be able to enjoy her first opportunity to speak Japanese in years "but you're very much mistaken"
"The software don't lie" the man retorted, slowly tapping a finger near the corner of one eye and subtly alluding a wealth of illegal optical enhancements
Cassandra's lip curled with the sudden, dawning realisation of what Brittany had in store for her here

Somewhere in a warehouse in the Adachi Ward a young woman was about to die