Sure, Devorah knew she would likely come to regret marking a rift between herself and her friends. They had to wade through the same shit she had, and were stuck in this sad excuse for an afterlife as well. But Bell and her constant yapping were getting on Devorah’s nerves, and she didn’t need Eugenia to play therapist for her. And fuck, Devorah was pretty sure Eugenia came from before therapy was even a thing!
Besides, even if they were murdered too, they were probably never slated to die as Devorah had been. They never had headaches, or choking fits, or whatever. Not to rank suffering, but Devorah was pretty damn sure she had it worse! But at the same time! She didn’t want any pity.
Devorah was a grown-ass woman turned AI. She could handle herself, her role in this new game, and even whatever might happen after.
Maybe if she focused really hard, maybe if she stretched every nanobot that made up her being, Devorah could let Anna know she was really there. And then maybe Anna would buy time with her? Or even better, purchase the rights to own Devorah’s AI. Not that she wanted to be owned, of course. But she trusted Anna.
Then again, where would Anna even get the money? She wasn’t from this time. She didn’t know how this world and its economy worked. Fuck.
Now Devorah felt even worse.
Oh, but Anna and Georgie were on their way back in. And the look on Anna’s face- that did something to cheer Devorah up a bit. She knew that look. It was carefully blank, aside from one thing, one thing she doubted Anna knew about- the slight raise of her left eyebrow. That always signaled trouble, and rarely trouble for Anna herself.
Georgie though, she looked a bit nervous. Her hands clenched, unclenched. She rubbed them on her apron like she had touched something dirty.
“Georgie?” Gabriel asked first, breaking the silence. “Y’alright? You look like you done seen something awful.”
Georgie nervously looked at Anna, who nodded. Then she took her seat. Anna remained standing by the entrance to the room.
“I did see something awful,” Georgie coughed. Jacob and Gabriel rushed to pat her back and offer her a handkerchief, respectively, like the little worker bees they were. Georgie waved them off, still coughing.
Faith leaned forward. “Now this is getting interesting. Are you suggesting poor, dear Mathilde did not die from poison? But from another means?”
“I am quite sure she was murdered with poison,” Nour said, voice rising ever so slightly. “To suggest otherwise-”
“That’s not it,” Georgie interrupted, coughing subsided. She looked down at her hands, now folded around a handkerchief and resting on the table. “It was… It was like she had been soaked in acid. She was disgusting, under her robes,” Georgie spit out, more in fear than hatred.
“Oh? So she didn’t drink the poison? Was it absorbed by her skin?” Jacob asked.
“I don’t think so,” Georgie said slowly. “I’m no scholar or nothing, but it looked old, it did. No open bleeding aside from her shoulder.”
“Did you ever notice any old injuries?” Tiberius asked, looking in the direction of Kefilwe and Nour.
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Kefilwe’s brow furrowed, and she sniffed, then wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I never saw Mathilde out of her habit, even at night. She was always careful to keep covered, for her modesty and humility. It was part of being a nun, she said.”
“Not even when sleeping? Or when coming out of the washroom?” Lupe’s eyes narrowed. Privately, Devorah agreed. Had no one really thought that was strange? That Mathilde was so careful to never show her skin at all?
“Mathilde was entitled to her vows of chastity and modesty,” Nour scolded the room at large. Devorah let her gaze rest on Nour, still fully covered, including their face. Even Mathilde had shown her face. Why had Nour insisted on remaining hidden as well? Was it because they were actually forced to, with it being their set costume? Or were they trying to keep something secret as well, the way Mathilde had seemed to be doing? “In respecting Mathilde, I never put pressure on her to bare herself. Nor did Kefilwe,” they said, inclining their beak towards Kefilwe. Kefilwe nodded back just once.
“Mathilde is- was important to us,” Kefilwe said. “So her vows were important to us too, even if I don’t completely understand.”
“That’s great, and I love how you respected her, but that’s not what I was asking,” Lupe said, frustration evident and growing. “Either way, unless someone is hiding something again, I’ll say no one has seen any weird scars she had. And are we sure she was a nun? And this wasn’t just a costume, like what happened with Jack?”
“No way, babe,” Brad shot in. Not exactly who Devorah thought would have come to Mathilde’s defense, but at the same time, Brad’s surety was convincing. For someone with one concussed brain cell, he was very confident. Or maybe that was where the confidence came from. “Mathilde knew her stuff, got all the psalms and junk right. My mom made me go to Sunday school as a kid, and the nuns there were so Mathilde.”
Xoco reached over to pat Brad on his head. “Circumstances are also different in each of our times,” she reminded Lupe gently. “Mathilde was not born a priestess. She could have been injured at any point of her life, or even in her work as a devotee. Though Faith tells me your way of practice is very different from my own.”
“We’re more subtle in our blood offerings, my sweet,” Faith said. “It’s all in the interest in saving the soul, of course. The mortal body is nothing compared to the soul it carries.”
“But! A soul can’t happen without a body, right? If there even is a soul!” Xiao Li piped in. “And how do we quantify the soul? Because let me tell you, I come from a good thousand years later than you, and we still can’t find any proof of that thing you call a soul.”
“That is why it is called faith, good friend,” Faith said. “To believe in the word of the lord even without a visible soul.”
“While I do agree that belief is important, along with having a moral code, I do not believe in this soul, as Faith calls it.” Budi said. “A soul seems too permanent. Does it not make more sense that what we are is ever changing, just as we, humans, change?”
“Yes, and our actions in this life impact how we change.” Sushruta said. “Though we do have an eternal self, even if we cannot perceive it.”
“Yes,” Tiberius said, “if there was no self that exists beyond death, then how would there be an afterlife?” Ugh, please, no talk of afterlives. Devorah didn’t want to have to consider that, even if she didn’t believe in such things as heaven or hell.
“If I was synthesized in a lab, would I have a soul?” The catgirl said. No one seemed quite sure how to respond to that, based on the silence that had blanketed the room. But it made Devorah wonder- if there was a soul, had it followed her into this new form? Or was it in some nondescript afterlife? Or was she an entirely new being, with or without a new soul?
“Well,” Georgie said with a cough, “I for one have faith in us that we’ll be able to solve this murder. Eh? Eh?” Kefilwe gave a hesitant, sniffly little laugh.
“Thank you, Georgie, for bringing us back to the reason why we’re here today.” Lupe said. “I know we all cope in our own ways, but please everyone, our friend was murdered. Is now really the time for philosophy?”
Finally, Sushruta stood up. “I do not want to infringe on Mathilde’s modesty, but I think that I will look at her injuries, if Nour will not. I studied medicine before choosing to focus on engineering.”
“Do you object, Nour?” Anna said, finally speaking again.
“How can I?” Nour asked. And they were right, backed into a corner as they were. “I trust Sushruta to be fair, and to be respectful to Mathilde,” they ground out.
Sushruta left, and once again there was silence. Though this time, Nour and Kefilwe were whispering at each other.
Devorah shot a cursory glance over towards her so-called friends. As expected, Bell met her gaze, but Eugenia put her hand on Bell’s chin and forcibly turned her head away. Kinky.
Not wanting to be grateful to Eugenia for the smidgeon of privacy, for all that she could have any, Devorah let her fake feet drag her to the only place they would ever go.
Devorah stood a foot from Anna’s right side. But of course Anna didn’t know, even if Devorah felt more right there than she had felt anywhere else in this house. Since she had been forced from her grave. Devorah couldn’t be too mad though. How could she stand to rest in her grave as the one she loved still lived? Displaced from her time, with nothing to her name…
Sushruta returned quickly enough. He didn’t even bother returning to the table before he announced his verdict. “Mathilde did not have wounds caused by any external force. Her body was warped by illness- leprosy.”