Bugs in the software, cont.

[hajimenoippolit.livejournal.com]

The narrow strip of skin visible through The Pain's mask was uneven, covered in welts long since solidified, like lava flows turned to basalt. Earlier curiosity had prompted Rakitin to take a closer look, but better sense had assured him staring would have been unforgiveably rude. However, now that consideration had been rendered moot. He noted with interest the thin zone of clarity encircling the Cobra's eyes, keeping visibility unobstructed. The damage must have been inflicted by his own companions. The Pain's place at the center of the hive had not come easily.

"I see," Rakitin said grimly.

He thought of the Ocelot boy who had taken Gurlukovich's death so badly. Had he been his lover? Either way, it was obvious he would lash out at anyone who became a convenient target, an outward direction for his pain. No doubt he wasn't alone.

Rakitin let the warning about The Fury pass him by. Warnings about the cosmonaut's madness were thick as flies on the ground. It was none of Rakitin's concern.

They called me mad, I called them mad, and damn them, they outvoted me.

He took the file, and frowned down at it. Dubious legibility was not enhanced by the dim light.

"Would you prefer, er, privacy?" Rakitin said, with a surreptitious glance at Krauss.

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[the-cobra-unit.livejournal.com]

“Yes, I think that would be --”

He caught Rakitin staring at him. That, he was accustomed to. Expected it, along with gasps and tactfully averted eyes. But Ippolit Rakitin was staring up at him full on, a look of careful consideration creasing his forehead, brows furrowed as though he were thinking hard on something.

The hornet keeper caught the lieutenant’s gaze, and held it for a long moment. “All you have to do is ask. I don’t mind.” There was no trace of malice in his statement, and he smiled a bit, even though Ippolit would not benefit from knowing.

Before the question born of genuine scientific curiosity could be uttered, he motioned for Krauss to join the congregation.

“Johann, something nearly slipped my mind…I was supposed to tell you…”

“Ja?”

“The Fury said he would like to see you in his laboratory at noon. Something about a new invention of his. CODEC scrambler, or something, he said. ”

“But it’s already half-past…”

“Then you should hurry, you know what happened last time you were late.”

A whole new expression of horror filled Krauss’ pale eyes; he nodded, clutching at his arm as though remembering some awful torture that had befell the limb. “Right, of course.” Turning, he bolted toward the door, nearly tripping over himself on the way.

“Sometimes,” the Pain laughed, “it’s almost effortless.” Nonchalantly, he glanced over his shoulder, towards the shadows where the Ocelot soldiers had disappeared. “What can be done about your keepers, then?”