Where the heck did the week go?
Oh, that’s right, working.
Wow that was a lot of work.
But wow, boy did I also do a lot of writing. Observe, my pets!
“Let’s do this,” I say and turn the recording equipment back on. “Cause of death appears to be from internal damage from multiple gunshot wounds.”
“Interesting hypothesis, Lieutenant. Explain.”
“When a wælcyrie is shot, her body closes the wound almost immediately. All these white spots on her skin? Entry points. If we flip her over…”
I flip her over.
“There. Exit wounds, at least some. Only slightly larger, indicative of pistol, not rifle, rounds.”
I flip her back over. “I count fifteen spots. A standard magazine load out.”
“Fifteen. Possible indication of rage and hate.”
“Not necessarily. It takes a lot of effort to kill a wælcyrie. A lot of effort.”
“It seems you have more experience with wælcyrie than I do, Lieutenant.”
A feeling of loss washes through me, but I shove it aside. Now is not the time to start treating death like a normal person.
“Only the dead ones, my Captain,” I whisper, “only the dead ones.”
I press virtual buttons and the robotics around me come alive.