“I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teaching my blood whispers to me.” Hermann Hesse
Emily smiled as she fell, long enough to totally disappear from sight at any rate.
But her smile was long gone by the time she landed with a loud grunt on the deck of the large stealth drone which caught her half-way to the valley floor.
At the same time the drone released an extremely convincing dummy of her which hit the valley floor a few moments later. Just after the drone and its cargo had vanished from sight, thanks to some fiberoptic stealth technology.
Emily smacked her back hard upon landing, instantly getting the wind knocked out of her. So it took her a long tenuous moment to catch her breath.
But this was it.
This is how life works for folks like her. On-the-fly reboot - rebuild - destroy - walk away - never a gaddamn goodbye.
A survival pattern perhaps - like bees grown too big for the hive. Rebooting is just a natural way of things, she supposed. Or so at least it felt to Emily. For Emily, rebooting was survival.
Reboot on the fly, don't ask why. (No one to ask why.)
Besides, the answers are never what you want to hear anyhow.
And quite frankly she knew it was gonna be these very same bumps and bruises that were gonna see her biggest dreams eventually come true.
Because of the fuel it gave her.
"A goddamn spiritual atomic bomb... "
isn't that what her shrink at the hospital had called her? A spiritual light?
Whatever it was. Emily had it now. Fused into skin, bone, marrow and blood. This was who she was now. A tool, much like a pen, by which others would become free.
And goddamn, if that weren't somethin' worth fake dying for, she didn't know what was.
Old Bright Eyes taking the wrap for her murder... well, that was just icing on the motherfucking cake.
© Raena Exe 2023
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Beware! Some stories begin at the end and finish in the middle!!
Also, please note: I'm a storyteller, NOT a writer.