CROSSProcess, Part 3 by Billings Hildred M

Author:Billings, Hildred M.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Barachou Press
Published: 2023-02-06T00:00:00+00:00

five

The bells woke Cairn two days later.

She rolled over and cursed the time—she still had one hour before she had to get up. Who the hell had the balls to die at dawn?

Suppose they didn’t die at dawn. Odds were they died overnight and were found when they didn’t report to their station. Or maybe it was an accident. Maybe somebody was murdered. Cairn knew a thing or two about that.

The bells kept ringing. Cairn rolled over and growled into her pillow. On the other side of the room, Kila threw a boot at the door. “Fucking dead people!” she grunted.

Somebody pounded at the door until Kila finally oozed out of bed and answered it with a scowl on her face. Cairn peered between her fingers at Silva, who stood with venom leaking from the corners of her surly mouth. “Get up. You’ve got a funeral to attend in an hour.”

“Whose?”

Silva stopped before heading to the next door. “Jillicent’s.”

“What?” Cairn nearly fell out of bed at the news. “From what?”

Silva spat in the hallway. “Take a wild guess what kills you shits the most.” She stomped off, thumping her fist against Giselle and Lessi’s door.

Kila sat on her bed. “Jillicent’s dead?”

“We all die,” was all Cairn could say.

“Jillicent was…” Kila stopped. Cairn knew what her partner wanted to say. She’s one of us. Two weeks ago, Jillicent was a junior mercenary, graduating to become a woman no longer in Ayna’s purview beyond work and assignments. Now she was dead from the biggest killer of girls their age. Most people assumed that the majority of mercenary deaths were on missions, but… Cairn didn’t want to think about it. She had a funeral to attend.

They went to Sulim and Eyne’s room to find them both groggy and confused about why they were being dragged to the funeral of somebody they’d never met. “Does everyone have to go?” Sulim’s face implied she couldn’t imagine the entire fortress attending a funeral for anyone except the chief.

“No, not everyone, but until last week she was a junior mercenary.” Cairn stared down Sulim’s bloodshot eyes. “You’re sleeping in her old bed.” Cairn had slept in it herself, once or twice. It had been two years since she last dallied with Jillicent, a skinny girl with dark red hair. Always respectful and always reciprocal. She liked both men and women. Didn’t play girls like me for fools, either.

Sulim said nothing more after that, but Eyne kept at it. “Is that what those bells were for? I thought we were being invaded!”

“It’s in your manual.” Cairn motioned for them to follow her and Kila out to the funeral grounds. “We don’t use the bells much anymore. Only when somebody’s died planetside and there’s going to be a funeral.” Like now.

Funerals on Cerilyn had to be quick affairs. Sleeping space was precious in the quickly growing tribes, and with the heat, disease was known to fester with a carcass left out for too long. Cremation was impractical and against

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