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Chapter Twenty Five

2 AL: IRENE

“Mother?” Irene asked. She set her eating utensil down and rose to her feet. She took a half step in the direction of the stairs when her mother’s demeanor took a sudden change.

“Who are you?” the old woman cried out. Something almost like terror showed on her face.

“I’m Irene, Mother, your daughter. Don’t you recognize me?” Irene said. Her mother’s shift in behavior halted her advance. The horror she felt at her mother’s appearance only deepened.

“Phillip! Phillip!” the old woman cried. “I need you!”

A big muscular man stepped out from the workroom door under the stairs and turned to look up at the old woman. He held a tankard of what looked like beer in his hand and a smear of gravy was on his chin. Irene’s own meal was served with water. He was wearing heavy leathers with blue edging. He swung around to look up at the stairs behind him.

“Mama, what are you doing walking around without your shoes?” the man said. Irene had another shocking revelation. This was her youngest brother. Strangely what bothered her most about this transformation from the slim serious brother she last saw was him calling their mother ‘mama’. No child of Dr. Whitman ever called her anything but mother.

“Who is she? Who is she? Who is she!” Dr. Whitman screamed as she pointed at Irene. Her voice became louder and less sane with every additional repetition.

“Phillip?” Irene heard herself say.

Phillip turned to the sound of her voice or maybe in the direction his mother was pointing and finally saw her.

“Irene?” he said. He slammed the tankard down onto the counter and lumbered over to sweep her into a bear hug. Irene was so rattled at this point that she was barely able to return it. “What are you doing here?” he asked her.

“I am looking for you,” Irene responded. The answer came automatically to her lips. It was the true motivation behind her acceptance of Agatha’s mission. After months alone with an ever increasing workload she was faced with the stress of the failure of the colony itself. She sought out the support and safety of family. “Things are starting to fall apart at the Speedwell.”

“I am glad you came to us,” Phillip said. He released his hug and took a step back to get a good look at his sister.

“What is wrong with Mother?” Irene asked quietly.

“Mama is fine,” Phillip assured her. “She just gets confused sometimes.” He turned to look back at the old woman cringing on the stairs. “Come Mama,” he called. “It is my sister Irene. Aren’t you happy to see her?”

Dr. Whitman came slowly down the stairs. She kept leaning against the wall between each step. She looked every year of her age.

A flicker of movement at the top of the stairs caught Irene’s attention. The guard from the gate was just ducking back out of sight. He must have come straight here after letting them in. Irene and her party didn’t delay very long in the courtyard. The man must have run to make it here before them.

“Say hello to your daughter,” Phillip said to his mother when the old woman finally joined them. Phillip stepped back and stared up the stairs. He saw the guard there too.

“Hello,” Dr. Whitman said quietly. She was still looking at Irene with a combination of confusion and fear.

“Mother,” Irene greeted her again. “How are you feeling?” She wanted to give her mother a hug but the professional woman never liked being touched much. The old woman seemed calmer now and Irene didn’t want to set her off again.

Suddenly Dr. Whitman grabbed hold of Irene’s right arm and pulled her in close. Her boney fingers clamped down on Irene’s flesh with a surprising strength. Irene was certain she was going to have bruises. She instinctively tried to pry the old woman’s hand free.

“Mother, you are hurting me,” Irene said when she failed to loosen the old woman’s hold.

“I am on to you girly,” her mother said in a fierce whisper, “I won’t let you take it from me.” There was a flash of something metallic in her mother’s other hand. Irene’s left arm and hand were suddenly on fire.

“Why did you do that! You are a doctor!” Irene cried out as blood welled up from the slash through her sleeve and into her flesh. Drops of blood hit the floor and Irene realized how severe the injury was. She thought it might have been a scalpel that her mother used to cut her, although there was no sign of it now.

Once again Dr. Whitman’s demeanor changed. A flicker of the woman that was her mother rose to the surface in the form of a look of cool professionalism. The old woman spread her fingers and made a fist. Her fingers formed a couple patterns before she reached out to the wound. Pain blossomed. It came not just from the new injury but from the old one on Irene’s leg.

Irene stumbled slightly as she tried to swallow her groan of pain. The sound came out weirdly sexual. Irene felt her face go red with embarrassment.

“No!” Phillip said loudly. His attention turned back to them from the distraction of the man on the stairs. “Not Irene,” he reached out to pry the old woman off of his sister.

“Not done yet!” Dr. Whitman proclaimed as she studied the wound on Irene’s arm. Strangely the blood vanished. In her pain Irene missed where it went. A few drops still remained on the floor. The wound remained a gapping red line across her skin.

“Not Irene,” Phillip said again, even louder than the first time.

A tight scheming smile appeared on the old woman’s face. Irene saw it and looked down at the woman’s free hand. Her fingers were just closing into a fist. She opened her hand with her fingers in three groupings. She spread all her fingers wide and pushed her hand down in the direction of the floor.

Pain shot through Irene again. This time she was ready for it. She tried very hard not to show it but swayed a bit as her leg went weak for a second. The gapping cut on her arm closed. There was still a red streak to mark where it was.

Phillip managed to pull Dr. Whitman’s hand off Irene. Gently he pulled his mother away and herded her up the stairs. Irene collapsed back into the chair she rose from. She instinctively rubbed the mark on her arm.

“That was your mother?” Sophia asked from where she watched the entire encounter in shock.

“I thought she was dead,” Irene said aloud. She wasn’t really answering Sophia. The comment was her own thoughts leaking out. Sometime during all the months without any contact, Irene became certain that her mother was gone. Now she remembered that conversation she overheard in the officer’s restrooms. Those two men said Dr. Whitman was senile. Irene dismissed their claims, thinking they were just unable to accept the reports of magic.

They were right. Although maybe senility was the wrong diagnosis. Whatever was wrong with her mother seemed much more volatile and violent than just plain senility. Her thoughts raced as she considered how her mother’s condition must have affected the exploration teams. Dr. Whitman was in a leadership position.

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Irene's stomach rumbled. She was suddenly starving. The nanobots in her blood must have used the energy of her own body to heal her. She picked up her utensils and began to eat. Her companions fell silent. After a quick exchange of looks between them they returned to their own food.

The server came back. He brought with him slices of a fruit pie. He explained that Phillip sent them. He also offered each of them a choice of a stronger beverage, giving them a list of what was available. Sophia opted for the apple wine, while Jake asked to try the beer. Irene thought she was already lightheaded enough and didn’t want to drink any alcohol. Instead she asked if there were any fresh fruit juices. The server brought her a glass of grappler juice. The juice was delicious but the name left Irene a little worried about running into the plant.

Phillip returned just as they were finishing the food.

“I’ve got her settled for now,” Phillip said and he slid into an empty chair at their table. Irene rubbed the mark on her arm, through the cut in her sleeve. “You will need to be careful around her until she accepts you,” he explained.

“Ok,” Irene agreed. She didn’t really want to talk about her mother’s odd behavior. She shifted the subject over to her companions. “This is Jake and Sophia,” She said to Phillip. “We traveled together from the Speedwell. My brother Phillip,” Irene said, introducing her brother to her companions.

“Welcome,” Phillip said warmly. “How long did the trip take you?” Irene completely lost track of the days. Was it a week? Two? She was still pondering this when Jake spoke up.

“Nine days,” Jake replied.

“You made good time,” Phillip commented, “especially for such a small group. And you got a boar along the way. Good job.”

“We were part of a much larger group in the beginning. It broke apart at the first greenspace with people heading off in different directions,” Jake explained.

“There was another group heading this way led by a woman called Amy,” Sophia said suddenly. “We experienced difficulty crossing the first green and were behind schedule. They should have gotten here a day or two ago.”

“Nope, no sign of them. It is getting late in the season, I wasn’t expecting anyone else until spring. I will tell my men to keep an eye out for them,” Phillip replied. He said it like he was doing them a favor but Irene didn’t like the sound of it. She wondered what kind of position Phillip held here. She didn’t like the reference to ‘my men’.

“I heard you are a wizard,” Phillip said, turning his attention back to his sister.

“I can cast ice-bolt,” Irene said. “Why does everyone seem so surprised?” She wanted to ask why everyone seemed so afraid of her but she was trying to be polite. “It was our impression that everyone has magic here,” Irene said. Phillip laughed out loud.

“Oh no,” he said when his laughter passed. “Only about ten percent of us can use magic. Most magic users are warriors. They imbue an element into a weapon. Only a few are wizards, less than ten percent of magic users. Mother is the only one who can heal and she can only heal those that use ice magic. It doesn’t work for fire users.”

“What about the settlement to the north?” Sophia said. “Do they have a healer?”

“Nope,” Phillip responded. “They don’t even have a protection crystal.”

“The large crystal in the courtyard?” Irene questioned. “What does it do?”

“It makes this area a safe zone. We don’t have to block the vents and sleep with one eye open. It makes life much more pleasant,” Phillip explained.

Irene yawned. Now that she ate, a heavy fatigue fell over her. Her eyelids were getting progressively heavy.

“I think I better have the innkeeper show me my room,” Irene commented.

“I can take you up, let me just check with Jim about which room he assigned you.” Phillip went off in search of the innkeeper.

“Let’s find out where our room is too,” Jake said to Sophia. “Then let's go out and see how much I can get for the tusks. I feel like holding on to them longer will just cause us more trouble.”

“We need to figure out how to carry things hidden,” Sophia said. “I’m going to go see what packs they have for sale.”

“If you get a chance can you see if there is a seamstress that could do something with this cut,” Irene asked, fingering the sharp edge where her mother sliced her sleeve open. “I seem to be going through clothes rather quickly.”

“Of course,” Jake responded. “I have the feeling if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t still have the tusks to sell.”

Phillip returned and let them up the stairs. They exited at the first floor. The stairs continued on up and Irene wondered how far they went. He turned away from the courtyard and led them to the end of the hallway.

“I’m afraid all the rooms facing the courtyard are taken. Being end units these two are a bit bigger than average,” Phillip explained. “Once you open the door it will be keyed to you. No one has figured out yet how to break in so it is safe enough to leave items inside. But,” Phillip warned, “anything you leave in a room after the rent is up simply disappears.”

“Disappears?” Jake questioned.

“Yeah, none of us can figure it out. We think it is some kind of autoclean function. The rooms are always cleaned when they are left empty,” Phillip replied.

“When is the checkout time?” Irene asked.

“You get a full day from the time you open the door. If you pay for another night before the first time period is over, it adds another day on the end. If you are in the room when the time runs out the door automatically opens and won’t close again until you leave,” Phillip explained.

Jake and Sophia stepped into their room. The door closed behind them. Irene opened the door to her own room.

“Can I talk to you for a second in private?” Phillip asked his sister.

“Sure,” Irene said. “Come on in.”

“Close the door first, then reopen it from the inside, so the door doesn’t get keyed to me,” Phillip instructed. Irene followed his instructions and let him in. The room was rather plain. There was a double bed, a chair. There was another door, opposite the entry door. Irene hoped that was a restroom of some kind. Along one wall was a carving embedded in the wall. It looked a little like a hall table embedded in the wall with a flat stone monitor over it. Some kind of geometric pattern was carved around it. Irene thought it was another inscription in a font she didn’t recognize. She decided it must be the ‘prize altar’ the innkeeper spoke of.

Irene sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her brother expectantly.

“You can’t let Mother heal you again. That pleasure you felt, it is addictive. Two or three heals and people become slaves to her. They will do almost anything to get another heal.”

“What?” Irene said. Her abrupt response was more to do with his description of the healing bringing pleasure than the idea that it was addictive. “If it is dangerous, why allow her to do it?”

“I can’t just lock her away. Sometimes her ability is the only thing between life and death. I have been trying to reduce the damage. In the beginning people were hurting themselves, just to get her attention. A couple people went too far and killed themselves. I set a high price on the healing in the hopes that it would reduce the number of new people who used her services and get addicted in the first place. Mother doesn’t understand. I think the money has gone to her head,” Phillip explained. Irene thought it wasn’t Mother’s head the money had gone too. The Doctor Whitman Irene knew was far more likely to be seduced by the power of it.

“Ok,” Irene responded. She was just too tired to argue with her brother about the morality of the situation. “I’ll try to not let her heal me again but I really didn’t allow her to heal me this time.”

“Good,” Phillip said. He seemed relieved his sister wasn’t going to argue with him. He turned to go.

“Before you go,” Irene said, stopping him, “Is there a restroom beyond that door?” Phillip confirmed that there was. “This is embarrassing but can you show me how to use it?”

Phillip laughed at her but he did a professional job of showing her how it worked. The small room beyond the door only held one pool of water embedded in the floor for bathing. The bottom of the pool was covered in blue octagonal tiles. Phillip confirmed that the other pools they saw earlier contained a variety of solutions and were for cleaning items.

Phillip demonstrated how to turn the water on and off in the sinks. It was the same method her group discovered by accident earlier. He also showed her how you could increase the temperature by drumming your fingers on the edge of the sink. Irene thought the method must have been found by someone with a nervous habit.

“How do you cool it back down again?” Irene asked.

“Just turn it off and on to start over,” Phillip told her. Irene nodded her understanding tiredly. Her fatigue must have shown. Phillip told her to rest and took his leave.

As soon as he was gone, Irene collapsed onto the bed for a nap.