“I don’t want to leave you.” Jieleem’s voice was full of apprehension.
“I promise, I’ll not go anywhere alone.” The man was worse than Dereniik, at least he had been reasonably confident in her ability to look after herself. What did he guess about her powers?
“I’ve decided to call in sick, Stephaan and Murro will cover for me.”
Now he was pacing. Dereniik had insisted she tell at least an edited version to Jieleen. He’d pointed out that Flagsteen and Jieleen knew each other. (News to her.) If Flagsteen made a casual and completely natural inquiry about her health, and her life partner knew nothing, all sorts of uncomfortable ramifications could ensue.
Viky hadn’t counted on Jieleen’s level of paranoia, and he only knew half of it.
“Okay fine, whatever.” She hadn’t meant to snap. “Am I allowed to go and see Tushii?”
“I’ll walk you to her suite, then I’ll go explain to Stephaan. Will you stay at Tushii’s until I get back?”
Viky agreed, simply because it was easier than arguing with the man, and he had been very sweet, so concerned when she had told him last evening.
“I can guess why you have come. But before you say anything, what do you think of the internal décor? Most people are surprised by it.” Tushii asked as she was invited into the reception room.
“It's a riot,” Viky admitted. “Not what I expected, you wear sedate colours, I didn't expect your reception room to be so bright.”
“Way overdone for your sensibilities?” Tushii pressed, gesturing around the room at intensive blocks of colour and painted friezes covering every inch of the walls. Dark timber panels on the floor vied for attention, and even the ceiling embraced more tones than Viky could accurately name.
“I know this sort of design was popular in some parts of the coalition 20 or 30 rotations ago, wouldn't have necessarily picked it as your style, but life is full of surprises.” Viky chose her words with care. Tushii was a person who was best to avoid antagonizing.
“In truth I hate it, it’s not my style at all. But this enclave was assigned to Jo-Joon’s team. It was only supposed to be temporary, less than a rotation, and it would have cost sequin to redecorate. The allowance we're given is generous, but I choose not to spend mine on something so transitory.”
Viky nodded, not sure where the conversation was heading.
“I'm telling you this because the wind of life throws up all sorts of detritus. Often in your face. I know you have been going around the sisterhood asking questions, trying to establish a motive for the theft of Isobeel’s body chains. So, I’m going to trust you with my secret. Sooner or later, someone is going to drop something that will make you suspect me. I’ve got motive, but I hope you realize I’m clever enough to not to attempted anything stupid.” Tushii paused.
Should Viky tell the proud woman that she was too young to be a suspect? Curiosity won, she wanted to know why Tushii though she had motive, so she nodded and gestured for Tushii to continue.
“Not even a smart comment?”
“I’m trying to make it easier for you?”
“It’s not working.” Tushii gave her a half grin, drew a deep breath, and initiated her explanation. “I am not a second daughter; I am a first daughter. There are never enough second daughters, so others can apply. Every rotation after I turned ten, I tried, and was accepted after three attempts. Every woman wants a daughter, Commanders are guaranteed their first child will be female, a strong enough motive to attract a few first daughters. My motive, however, was financial. I am from a Major House, the equivalent of a First Family, but our resources have been dwindling since before my grand-mothers time. We are destitute, trying to maintain appearances, but don’t have two sequin to rub together. I’ve sent all my allowance back home; it was enough for the first rotation but being delayed has proved problematic. Once we leave the capital and are set up with our own Houses my family can join me and all will be well, but in the meantime, I am making marionettes, attempting craft project, and borrowing sequin from my friends.”
Viky was surprised to see Tushii’s bottom lip tremble. “A destitute First Family, how did that even happen?”
Tushii shrugged. “Inheriting sequin doesn't automatically give you the skills or knowledge to use it well. There are plenty of women who bond Commanders, have enough resources to supply their first-born son with a fractal and pass on a comfortable living to their daughter. But the next generation, unless they find a way to supplement and replace the sequin spent, won't remain financially viable in the long term.”
Viky nodded. She couldn't see a lot of Commanders families out gathering or foraging in the forest, if you needed to buy food, and everything else required for running a household, even a generous initial allowance wasn't going to last successive generations.
“Despise me if you wish, but that is the truth, and I did not plant the statue in your suite or try and get you in trouble. Think about it if I had stolen the Body Chains, and sold them, my family would no longer be in financial trouble.” Tushii said.
“I never thought you did,” Viky said honestly, she didn't want to point out there was no way for her to find out if Tushii’s family was still in financial trouble or not.
“But you suspected something.”
“Yes, you wanted to leave, started the rumour we were going. Unfortunately, I think that is why Isobeel’s chains were stolen when they were. The thief thought we were leaving soon, and they wouldn’t be missed.”
“Please don’t ever tell her that.” Tushii said.
Viky nodded. The chains were gone, there was no point in making Tushii’s life more miserable than it had to be.
***
Dereniik waited, hoping Kyd wouldn’t be too long. They had taken to meeting at the bench more often, but it was an ineffectual arrangement, one that wasted time. He had thrown up again this morning, and didn't know how long he would last until a compulsory visit to a personal room would leave him ragged and breathless. Time was not on his side.
The attempt on Viky’s life was horrible to contemplate, but her dispassionate attitude terrified him. She hadn’t mentioned what talents she had inherited and was training with, but her negative reaction to visiting the scene of the crime was an indication there would be evidence pertaining to them at the site. It mitigated a tiny portion of his anxiety, but not enough to have slept.
Among Commanders and their offspring red hair or streaks often indicated a red Speed fractal. The assumption was invalid when considering People of the Rift as variations of the shade predominated throughout the population of the area. And anyone could use hair dye. Viky’s’ eyes were multy-coloured by primarily deep violet, often an indication of Phasing ability. Again not conclusive in her case, most of her people had dark blue or violet eyes. People with fractal powered Strength developed excellent musculature, but so did climbing narrow rope ladders while lugging water up cliff faces. And to survive the harsh environment people of the Rifts were not bound by the gender restrictions of much of the rest of the world. Viky would have worked along with all the young people of her clan.
It was well known there were no Chrystal Caves producing fractals in the area and the general population were not powered. Dereniik’s best friend and team leader had been from the Rifts, possessing, striking red hair, violet eyes and natural excellent athleticism. Val had once confessed not enough first-born sons from the area applied to become Commanders and he had been forcibly conscripted. His mother was unable to afford a fractal, so his first had been granted by the Coalition. Viky, being the late life daughter of a Commander, had a good chance of inheriting at least some of his talents, but unless he had been a specialist Commander, would have only worn two or three physical fractals. Red, Orange, or Magenta.
Eventually Kyd made his presence known and Dereniik filled him on the latest developments.
“If it’s not too much of an imposition, could I ask you to watch the entrance to Viky’s enclave. It’s the one opposite the obsidian statue of Kyyl Anderseen.”
“Do what?”
“We’ll need to set up some sort of communication system. If I put a cowl around the statue’s shoulders, would you be able to manipulate it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, if you see a person using Invisibility enter the enclave, pull it over his left shoulder. Once they leave pull it over the right. If there is some sort of emergency and we need to talk, pull it over his face. I will try and communicate with you regularly. Our primary objective is to keep Viky safe.”
“Agree, you where?”
“I’m going to see if I can trace down the ingredient used when our attacker tried to knock Viky out.”
Kyd scripted “Good Luck.”
But Dereniik didn’t believe in Quellion, he would work cases using reason, deduction, and process of elimination.
***
Jieleen escorted Viky back to her suite and was now pacing.
“I don’t know beloved, is that wise?”
“According to you I've done a great many things that were unwise, but it seems to have worked out so far.” Viky hoped the trend would continue.
“Not many things, and insisting on exercising, by yourself, is what made you vulnerable when you were attacked.”
Exercising sounded much less interesting than training, but Commanders had guided group training mentality drilled into them from the first heartbeat they practiced with fractals. Individual training was a foreign concept. Still, her paranoid life partner couldn’t take too many days off work or questions would be asked, so she could afford to give him this day to indulge his insecurities.
It was a relief when a knock at the door revealed Maddie. In a high state of agitation, she bustled in.
“Viky darling, I've just heard from Stephaan that you were attacked. Why didn’t you let me know. What happened? What can I do to help?” Maddie prattled as she flung herself into Viky’s arms.
“It’s alright.” Viky mumbled.
“Were you very badly hurt? Who did this to you?”
“Er, it’s okay now.”
Maddie started to sob, holding Viky tighter than was comfortable. Great, now she faced the very real prospect of being squeezed to death. Viky shot Jieleen a desperate glance, but the big man shrugged, and grinned. Stormblast the man, why had he told Stephaan? Men. Of course, the guys were as close as blood brothers. And Stephaan and Maddie shared a fascination with other people’s business. Stephaan wouldn’t have thought twice about passing the news on to his life partner and soon everyone in the sisterhood would know.
“Listen Maddie, you need to be brave and pull yourself together. It’s better if a big fuss isn’t made, it will keep the attacker guessing that way. Can you do that for me please?”
“Oh, alright. I. I don’t understand why, but, but of course I’ll do everything I can for you.” With a delicate sniff she wiped the tears from her eyes.
“Would you like to lounge; you look like you have been running.” Jieleen said.
“Oh, thank you yes. When I heard, well I wanted to get you something nice. To cheer you up, and let you know how much I cared. I know you don’t have much jewellery but like double rings and I noticed this little one in the emporium upstairs the other day, so I've just raced up and got it for you as a little gift. It’s just like the one of mine you admired the other day, with the little catch that opens and everything.” Maddie thrust an exquisite little box into Viky’s unsuspecting hands.
Viky experienced an unfamiliar sensation. Left floundering for a quick comeback she found herself speechless.
She turned the small package over and a lump came through to her throat.
The people of The Rifts never owned much to be able to give belongings away, showing love instead by words and actions.
“That's, that's amazing. Thank you. You didn't have to do that.”
“I know I didn't have to, I wanted to. Open it, open it. I want to see if you like it.”
“I’ll fetch some Caraaf for us all.” Jieleen offered, grinning as he left the room.
Viky realized she still must have been suffering the shock of being attacked because her hands shook as she removed a paper wrapping, careful not to rip it. Maddie’s eyes glistened with excitement and eagerly showed Viky the leaver mechanism to open the carved box. Viky didn’t have to fake the gasp as she saw the ring nestled in cushioning fabric.
“I’ve never had anything so,” She struggled for the right word. “So, elegant. It’s perfect Maddie. Thank you.”
Maddie gave a little squeal and hugged herself, then squashed Viky again.
“Put it on. Put it on. I hope it fits. But we can take it back and get it adjusted, and did you see how it can open?”
The double ring was of a simple design shaped like a tiny scroll. Not at all fussy, and soft lilac tones without even a hint of pink. Viky let Maddie slip it on two fingers as she showed her how it opened. There was another surprise inside, a folded sheet of fine parchment and a tiny slim taper of charcoal to script with.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“I know how much you like manuscripts, and scripting, so I thought this suited you perfectly.”
“It does, I really love it.”
***
Dereniik intended to be at Viky's suite earlier, losing contents of his stomach necessitated a complete change of garments and visit the public baths before feeling presentable enough to visit a Lady. It was not unexpected that she had company, although Jieleen’s presence had potential to be useful. The other woman, a sister introduced as Maddie, gushed at their introduction. She left thereafter, needing to attend to a baby.
“Do you have a plan Sir, any more information as to the identity of Viky’s attacker? What do you think we should do next?” Jeileen was attempting to wear a groove in the slate floor.
“I have several lines of inquiry to trace down. My lady, do you feel up to walking to the Dispensary wing of the Healing Hall? If we can identify the substance used to try and knock you out, we may be able to trace its source, therefore who has access to it, and get a lead on your assailant.”
Viky grinded at him. “Absolutely, I think a walk will do me good.”
“Commander Jeileen, may I impose upon you to accompany us please?” Dereniik asked, glad to have the back up.
If someone was determined to attack Viky in the lonely corridors on the first level, Dereniik could have done little to stop them. Jeileen jumped at the idea, he no intention of leaving his beautiful life partner alone.
The wing of the Healing Hall responsible for dispensing medication demanded a long walk and another lengthy flight of stairs. Viky, recovered from yesterday's ordeal, did not even become winded. Dereniik, much to his embarrassment, required a couple of breaks before reaching the stairs. He could see both Jieleen’s and Viky’s scepticisms as they viewed the gilded soaring spiral stairway. The risers were only shallow and the steps broad but the whole construction was overlaid with slick marble, not an ideal gripping surface for his crutches.
Sedate sweeping arcs rose around a central structure of multiple straight columns. Most people never considered that the capital had once been inhabited by highly powered people and many architectural features had been designed with that in mind.
“Er, Sir, I have Manipulative Phasing, would you like me to try and lift you up the stairs?” Jieleen’s face crinkled into an embarrassed smile.
“Thank you, but that won't be necessary.”
Dereniik took the grip rope from his belt, made a loop, and slipped it around the closest central column. Pulling his lower centre, activating Drifting, in the controlled, graceful manner, he left astonished faces beneath him.
It didn’t hurt the self-esteem to still be able to accomplish some activities.
Dereniik settled himself on a convenient bench at the top, while the young couple were only halfway up the long flight.
“OK, that was seriously cool.” Viky chuckled as they caught up. “We could have used those sorts of skills getting up and down the cliffs back at home.”
“Yes, although carting heavy water would take rotations of practice.” Dereniik agreed.
“What other cool tricks can you do?” She asked.
“Er, Viky, beloved, you're not supposed to ask that question.” Jeileen said.
“Or I'll answer that question, when you tell me what cool tricks you can do?” Dereniik challenge.
Viky stiffened, then relaxed and grinned. “Fair enough.”
The dispensary was reached after a couple more rest stops. Dereniik, grateful that Honourable Senior Commander Orator was not only at work but made time to see them immediately.
“Don’t do that.” Orator barked as Dereniik started to Kowtow.
“Rotations ago that action was enforced so nefarious individuals were in a good position for their heads to be removed. I’m not allowed to remove anyone’s head, unfortunately. So no point in performing the action.”
“I hope you do not consider me trouble sir.” Dereniik grinned.
“I’d be disappointed if you weren’t bringing me trouble son.”
Orator’s Office was much as Dereniik remember it from a rotation ago. The recognition jolted a pang like electricity that tingled down his spine. Dereniik drew breath and echoes came to mind. He and Val had last come to Orator to ask him to identify a stained garment. Information that had proved pivotal to solving the case. A deep inexplicable yearning for a different time caught at his chest. God's light, had he ever told Val how much he appreciated their friendship? Probably not, it wasn't something Commanders did. And memory was a slippery thing, not always reliable. He and Val had not agreed on everything, but in some ways the differences, the ability to call each other out and question decisions, made the friendship even more valuable.
The air of Orators office was thick, but not stale. A complex fusion of unusual combinations unused to experiencing proximity with each other. A great many interesting objects with mysterious functions and unknown purposes adorned mantelshelves and benches. Various glass, crystal and pottery bottles and vials crowded in an open cabinet. In contrast to their chaotic arrangements, all displayed neat Chinquaar scripted labels. Manuscripts and scrolls inhabited other shelves and cubbies. Wall space was covered with chart and diagrams and herbs hung from the ceiling. A human skeleton in one corner wore a headband and an unusually shaped sword in a scabbard. An uncommon collection of small metal mechanisms was covered with a decent layer of dust denoting they were not in regular use. Another corner housed a small stove and a pot of fowl looking liquid simmered over a controlled flame. Bubbles erupted erratically, each sounding like the fall of a small fruit on a carpet of forest litter. Disturbing and familiar.
“Dereniik. You're looking better.”
Feeling drained and nauseous Dereniik could not agree.
“Glad you have come to see me at last,” Orator turning to Viky and Jeileen and continued breezily. “Know it will have something to do with a case, never visits me otherwise, despite our long rotations of knowing each other and my ability to always offer stimulating conversation.”
“That’s because you hate socializing and meaningless small talk.” Dereniik raised an eyebrow.
“You only know that because I have told you ninety-nine times.” Orator replied. “So, what have you got for me this time.”
He rubbed his hands.
“My Lord, following your wise advice, I'm undertaking to solve a dilemma. This young woman was recently attacked. With your assistance we need to identify a substance used to impregnate a cloth that was forced over her mouth and nose.” Dereniik said.
Orator beamed.
Jieleen frowned.
Dereniik sighed and hoped they wouldn’t end up coming to blows. From previous experience Dereniik knew the man to be efficient and knowledgeable. He also didn't ask stupid questions, or indeed any questions not relevant to him solving the specific inquiry. He wouldn't be concerned, or even interested, in details pertaining to the whole case. And just as importantly he would not see the need to take over or want credit for himself. Outstanding and unusual attributes for a Commander.
“Did you see the cloth?”
“Yes, but only for a heartbeat.” Viky answered.
“Could you tell if it was stained, any colour or marking?”
“No, sorry. It was a light colour, either white or cream no marks or pattern on it.”
“Any scent?”
“Possibly an ether-like odour, it was strong enough to make my eyes water and skin feel hot. Not burning but irritating the area of contact. Also inhaling whatever impregnated the cloth inflamed my nose and throat and tasted a little sweet. I would have thought something that was supposed to kill me would have been unpleasant, but it wasn’t.”
Orator blinked at the flood of words coming from her mouth, he then grunted. “Don’t usually have such a succinct witness to work with. And I'm very impressed you know what ether smells like. Anything else?”
“After, I felt tired, dizzy, and had a headache. It took me a little while to become coordinated, I could run, but it was as if I was working against a strong current.”
“Excellent, Excellent.” Orator grinned.
“Sir, that's not excellent, that's horrible. Viky why didn't you tell me it was so bad?” Jeileen said in distress.
“Because I knew you'd overreact, and there's no long-term harm.” Viky smiled but Dereniik noticed her hand slide protectively over her belly.
“You have a very remarkable life partner, most witnesses must be mercilessly prompted before they can remember the simplest things, and I wouldn't complain. With this detailed information I already have a very likely suspect.”
Orator hummed as he searched for and then selected a specific bottle. Reached a crescendo as he tipped a couple of drops of clear liquid onto a cloth.
“No easy way to do this my lady. Don't inhale deeply, but take a sniff of this, see if you recognize this scent.”
Viky pulled a face of evident displeasure.
“I don't want her doing that, I'll sniff it for her.” Jieleen volunteered.
“Oww, that's so sweet. You great lump head, how's that going to help us?” Orator sniped.
“It's OK, he's put like two drops on it,” Viky glared at Orator. “And my life partner is not a lump head.”
“Then tell him to stop acting like one. How can he identify a scent that only you have smelt?”
The headache that had been simmering for the past half a hand’s breadth matured and Dereniik found himself rubbing the middle of his forehead. After their first few encounters with Orator, Val and he had chosen to visit without the rest of the team. The old man’s legendary ability the work people up into an argument only exceeded by his skill in offering offence. But Jieleen wasn’t bristling, he just stood protectively between Orator and Viky with a worried frown creasing his brow.
“Commander Jieleen, I have known Orator for a great many years and the closest anyone has ever got to being harmed by him is bruised knuckles from punching his too hard head.” Or perhaps a headache from his verbal diarrhea Dereniik added to himself.
Orator chuckled. “Yes, and you don't want to try that these days, I'm on the High Council now. God help us all. Now this liquid is time sensitive, you'll need to take a whiff soon or the odour will diffuse.”
“You think this is going to help us?” Viky asked Dereniik.
“Yes. Knowing what the substance is, will hopefully give us a place that was obtained. Knowing that should limit our suspect pool.” Dereniik answered.
Viky nodded and leaning over sniffed the cloth. “Yes, that's it. What is it?”
Dereniik smiled. “Are you sure? Really sure?”
Viky nodded.
“Glad they are giving you active Commissions again.” Orator said to a little hum.
“I have been given authority to act in this regard, but am not Commissioned,” Dereniik replied.
“So, my stalwart, rule-following friend, you are accepting all the responsibility without any compensation?”
Dereniik shrugged. “Would you, could you leave a person in potential danger without doing everything in your power to assist?”
“Of course not, I’d offload the problem to you, or at least someone else with a modicum of compassion. You know how I love insulting people, for some reason that makes them not like me. I'm surprised someone hasn't tried to bump me off before now.”
Dereniik grinned. Orator had never let little things like that stop him before.
The man commenced humming again and started writing out a note once he had finished, he passed it to Dereniik.
“We call it trichloromethane. Don't know why, stupid name if you ask me. Named sometime back in antiquity. Anyway, it has been used in the past as a solvent, will strip the paint of almost anything. But too many idiots ended up killing themselves by not keeping an area ventilated and choking on the fumes. Now its use is restricted, and with good reason, it causes a loss of consciousness. Too much and the effect is permanent. We have better herbal relaxants and anaesthetics and use them in the surgical wing of the Healing Hall. But trichloromethane is still favoured as an anaesthetic by some in the Odontology wing. Storm blast fools. I guess you'll want to be heading there next. Give this note to the Director, old Shensheel should be on shift now. The man’s grumpier than I am, do him good for you to disturb him. It will grant you access to the records, and any interviews you want to conduct.”
“Thank you, Sir, that's greatly appreciated.” Dereniik took the slip of parchment with a small bow.
“Odontology, what’s that?” Jeileen asked suitably horrified.
“Oh yes my large not so bright friend, you have every reason to quake in fear.” Orator chuckled.
Dereniik agave a tight smile. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, Odontology is the Dental Wing of the Healing Hall.”
***
The necessity for Viky to visit any part of the Healing Hall had never arisen, although a trip to the maternity wing, her first checkup, was scheduled for early next month. That would be unpleasant enough, but any activities where other people poked about in your mouth had to be disturbing.
The luminescent bryophyte faded from the pastel pink of the Dispensary to a cool apricot colour. It felt wrong, unnatural. The light was too bright and sombre shadows stretched in multiple directions. The intense light creating distinct, harsh edges. Sterile, sharp scents filled the subdue air and the echoes from Dereniik’s crutches bounced off unsympathetic stone walls.
The reception room was crowded, with limited seating available. A group of older Commanders lounged in various stages of repose, feigning a relaxed attitude but with palatable underling anxiety. A couple chatted to each other in stilted voices. All pretending the new arrivals didn't exist and ignoring their fellow’s agitation.
Dereniik hobbled to the reception desk, making inquiries to speak with the Director. Showed his note of authority and after a brief conversation a loping servant was deployed to usher him down a corridor. Dereniik gestured for them to follow.
A servant withdrew from one of the rooms they passed. An unholy mess displayed on a large tray carried gingerly before them. Gory cloths, fragments of teeth and multiple perverted blood-stained metal instruments. Long and shiny with sharp points, spikes, gripping pincers, and one still bloodied with tissue-like gore attached to a corkscrew device. Muffled anguished moans came from behind the closed door. She shivered; this would be a good place to avoid. Teeth were a problem, babies cried when they first came through. Little kids winged when they had to be pulled for the new ones to grow, and old people complained as they cracked, wore down or ached for inexplicable reasons. Gastropods had the right idea, absorbing everything without chewing.
Viky caught a hint of trichloromethane as they passed an open door. Mixed with other unfamiliar scents it was sickly sweet and her heart inexplicably beat faster. A man in Healer Green was focusing on another laying prone on a raised couch. The horizontal man was ashen, could have been dead, but a servant was mopping his brow, an exercise in futility if he had passed away. Viky made sure to count the doorways and take notice of the turns in case they needed to retrace their steps in a hurry. The whole place was uncomfortable, unsettling, and for a supposedly civilized city disturbingly barbaric.
Destination reached the loping servant bowed, gestured and took the required three back steps. Mission accomplished they scurried off.
Dereniik knocked with his crutch, which made sense, she'd seen how awkward it was for him to use his hand while standing. A curt voice called them in and after introductions they were seated around Senior Commander Shensheel’s desk.
He was a miserable looking petite man, face flushed, scurrying animal features and enlarged pores. Despite the elegant clothes his asinine speech indicated he was not a person whose company Viky would tolerate by choice. He began a game of, ‘Ask me whatever you want, and I will answer with the least number of syllables possible.’ She thought it judicious to remain silent. Dereniik had the patient of a saint.
Dereniik quickly established all Healers were granted a high level of autonomy. Senior Commander Shensheel insisted he had no control over the substances individual’s chose to use.
“How many Healers use trichloromethane on a regular basis?” Dereniik asked.
“Three.”
“And others less often?”
“Maybe.”
“Trichloromethane is a restricted substance, but you don’t know who is using it or how often?”
“Not my problem.”
Three words. Viky was surprised, Dereniik was calm, she fought the urge to hit the supercilious face. Just one direct Strength enhanced blow, knock a few teeth out.
Yes, all of them kept supplies on the premises.
No, none had reported any missing.
Yes, each Healer had his own room.
No, the rooms were not locked.
Yes, anyone could have come in and taken some.
No, he had not noticed anyone unusual around.
Viky’s overstimulated brain heard groaning in the distance, she lost track of the conversation. Her mind flicking back to yesterday's attack. It had been so sudden. Nobody could tell how they would act in an emergency. Her parentals had explained the usual responses, fight, flight, or freeze. She hadn't frozen but on reflection, could have handled herself better. She imagined fighting back, worked out at least nine ways she could have responded and achieved different outcomes. Sequels where she now wouldn't have to be sitting in an office with one of the most boring Commanders she'd ever met.
The attempt on her life started swirling in her mind. The moaning became a pathetic whimper, interspersed with gasping sobs. Relax, she told herself. It’s over. At her next training session, she would start practicing methods to escape various forms of attack. She would use the experience to become wiser, stronger, faster, more skilled.
“Can I please have a record of everybody who works in this Healing Hall?” Dereniik asked.
“Yes.”
“I would like it made-up and sent to me by tomorrow please.”
“Okay.”
“I also require a list of everybody who has been administered to in the last three nine-days.”
“It's not in my power to do that, you'll have to ask each individual Healer.”
Viky blinked; the man had uttered a full sentence. He was avoiding Dereniik’s eyes though, so it was possibly not the truth.
“My Lord, I appreciate I have used up much of your valuable time. I would gladly make these inquiries of each Healers under your jurisdiction. If you would be so good as to cancel all further appointments for the day, I will avail myself of this room and begin.”
Shensheel winced. “I’ll get a list from the receptionist.”
Dereniik was relentless. “Will the receptionist have a list of all the patients?”
“Maybe.”
“But you doubt this is the case?”
“Yes.”
“Can you elaborate as to why that would be?”
“Unscheduled emergencies.”
“And are the individual Healers the only ones who knew who have unscheduled emergency procedure?”
“No. There are records.”
“I would like all those records please, by tomorrow morning.”
“It’s not within my power to do that.”
Dereniik held the man's gaze.
Was that the only sentence the man knew? Viky hated being stone walled, and this man thought it was some sort of game. Blood rushed to her neck and face as her temper rose. Dereniik kept up his mild questions.
“Are you alright dear heart?” Jieleen whispered.
“I might throw up.” Viky answered loudly.
That got Commander Shensheel’s attention. For a guy whose department delt with unpleasant and painful procedures his reaction was a bit intense.
“Not in my office.”
“I'll try not to, but may not be within my power to do that,” she answered sweetly.
Shensheel glared, recognising she was plagiarising his expression.
Dereniik chuckled. “The sooner we get what we came for, the sooner we can leave.”
Commander Shensheel’s communication skills and levels of cooperation improved. Viky wasn't sure how useful a lot of records were going to be, but Dereniik was pleased and Jieleem was sweet, attentive, and insisted on pampering her for the rest of the day.