Chapter 11

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"I'm alive." She heard herself wheezing and opened her eyes.

She was lying on the floor in the fetal position in her own bathroom. The door to the bedroom was open, revealing an untidy bed with the blankets piled up, the medicine cabinet gutted, and medicine packets scattered picturesquely on the floor.

It's like there was an orgy.

Taer took her communicator out of her pocket and held the screen up to her eyes, squinting against the bright light:

Sixteen hours, I slept sixteen hours. She was about to put the communicator away but froze, scrutinizing her hand.

On the sleeve of her uniform, crumpled and red with stains of gore, was a fine crumb of gray-blue stone.

Where did that come from? Taer put the comm away and began to rise cautiously, leaning on her hands, her body unresponsive, her muscles and joints aching and her head humming as if she'd had a binge.

She shifted herself into a sitting position and froze, staring at the floor.

On the dark blue stone slabs that covered her bathroom floor, where she lay, there was a large, deep indentation, outlined by a white web of tiny cracks and roughly following the outline of her body.

Taer stared at the dent and the cracks for a while and then began frantically unbuttoning the collar of her uniform. Releasing the shoulder she'd been sleeping on. She carefully examined herself for bruises and abrasions - nothing.

She could admit, of course, that she had hit the floor while hallucinating, and she had the strength to shatter the slabs, but she could no longer believe that it had been without consequence. And the uniform didn't look as if it had been beaten on the stone slabs - just crumpled and soiled.

"It complicates things." She muttered, looking at the outline of her body on the floor.

Normally, she would have panicked, but now Taer was so mentally devastated that she seemed incapable of feeling emotion at all.

So instead of panicking, she dragged a thick, fluffy black rug from the bedroom and covered the dent with it.

It still feels like a cavity. She concluded, cautiously probing the sheltered evidence with her foot. But you can't see it from the outside.

I'll have to stealthily call the droids to fix it. She thought, pulling off her uniform and underwear and throwing everything into the utility unit. Or better yet, order them to change the floors. Anyway, we have a reconstruction here. It will not cause much suspicion. This is even better. If destroy the slabs, there will be no traces. And then reset the droids - the main thing is that none of the people saw anything.

Undressing, Taer took a shower. It was scalding hot, and it got rid of the aching sensation in her muscles and washed away the stale blood.

She stepped out of the bathroom, trying not to look at the black rug covering the weird thing:

I'll have time to deal with this. Taer thought, heading for the dressing room. There's nothing I can do about it right now, anyway.

She was on her way out of the dressing room when she realized she was holding a dress. The pale purple one was a very simple cut that could have been worn as a home dress:

Where did I even get it? Probably something Rima gave me. Her friend tried to change her closet every chance she got ignoring Taer's opinion that the dresses weren't hers and just didn't suit her.

And now she took the dress quite automatically, without thinking:

It must have been the dream; the mistress was wearing something similar. Taer thought as she changed into her tracksuit. The events of the dream were vivid and clear in her mind as if they were real. I have to write it all down for analysis while my memory is fresh.

She changed her clothes, put the gutted medicine cabinet back together, gathered the scattered medications from the floor, called in the droids to change the bed, and pulled out a miniature silver infoblock, which she used as a voice recorder to record her dreams.

"I took a Fenote." She began to dictate, trying to make her voice sound natural. "I don't remember the exact dosage, but a lot, seven or nine capsules at a time, maybe more. After that, just like in the castle, I started hallucinating, only more vivid, and my nose started bleeding."

Taer interrupted the recording, trying to remember what else had happened before she passed out. Some nonsense about everything being fragile... She stumbled, sticking her gaze on the black rug she'd dragged into the bathroom. No, it's better not to record...

"I blacked out." She continued recording. "Or maybe I fell asleep. I haven't slept in five or six days in a row. The Fenoth and the sedative might have had something to do with the stimulants and... whatever." She stopped her comments, realizing she was just avoiding talking about sleep and the problem wasn't a memory. She remembered everything perfectly: better than she would have liked. But how to describe this phantasmagoria?

"In the dream, everything was white, and blood everywhere, and bodies." Finally, she continued after a noticeable pause. "And they were my bodies, murdered, torn up. And in the dream, I thought it was all me at the same time..."

With a heavy sigh, she paused the dictaphone. The more she recorded, the more she was annoyed by all this nonsense. It just doesn't even feel good to remember.

It took her a few minutes to convince herself: that she was working on herself and that her irritation was just a manifestation of her fear. It didn't help much.

"And one of these corpses of mine attacked me." Taer forced herself to continue recording. "She and I, on my right hand, had blades instead of fingers..."

The origin of the blades, Taer understood perfectly. They were the same ones the mad twilight adept had in the holo-horror film that Rima had literally forced her to watch on the flight to the capital:

I'd be too scared to be alone. She mocked her friend in her head. That's a good friend, yeah.

"Claws like a Holo. And that other me, she was stronger, more confident, kind of better than me. Well, that's what I thought in the dream. " Taer paused again, trying to figure out what had caused that confidence. "Perhaps it's just a fear of responsibility, that I'm not competent enough for my position." She added after a moment's reflection. She grimaced, so hurt by her own words. Well, yes, obviously, I'm nowhere near qualified to command the troops of an entire domain. I've never been trained for that, and I have no experience.

She spent a few minutes self-deprecating on the subject of her worthlessness but was surprised to find that it didn't bother her at all. Some residual clarity of consciousness after the phenom kept her from getting upset over such trifles and going deeper into the abyss of self-deprecation:

Still, I feel much better with the Fenot. Taer admitted to herself. The hallucinations only started after large doses. I took more than seven capsules in the castle, and now I take a lot, too. What if I take two or three capsules a day? Maybe five...

She put the recorder aside and opened the medicine cabinet, which was lying next to her, and finding a jar of Fenoth there, Taer began to study the instructions:

I should have started with that. Taer snorted, plunging into the maze of medical vocabulary: Nootropic neuromodulator. It has a moderate stimulatory effect, indicated in the treatment of amnesia, accelerates the deployment of induced reactions of the complementary type...

As it should have been. It was prescribed to the lord for the treatment of amnesia. But why did it make me hallucinate? Was the dosage too high?

It was strange; at certain moments she felt as if the lord were literally feeding on the "Fenote," eating it almost by the handfuls. But he didn't seem to be hallucinating at all.

She flipped over the jar looking for side effects, it was all pretty innocent there too -insomnia, psychomotor agitation, feelings of heat or cold, could raise blood pressure:

The limit dose is not defined. The maximum is sixteen capsules per day for adults. And no hallucinations. Taer sighed and collapsed on the bed, staring at the ceiling again. The ceiling, to her secret joy, was perfectly fine. I haven't even exceeded the dosage.

She lay there for a while, wondering what could be the cause of her strange hallucinations. She didn't have amnesia, but Fenote could have been used as a stimulant. She has a guider and a huge one. But its deployment had been finished a long time ago, several years ago. There was also the possibility that the producer might not be telling everything.

It's worth checking out. She got out of bed, took the jar of Fenote with her, and went to the study.

"Do a search: side effects of this drug." She demonstrated the color code on the jar to the eyepiece cluster built into her desk. "Pay special attention to cases of hallucinations."

The cluster came to life and gave out a melodious "Fulfilled" while Taer reluctantly staggered back.

Hallucination or not, the slabs on the bathroom floor were quite real. And there could only be one explanation:

"Well, I'm not an adept... She flopped down on the bed and took the recorder in her hands. She didn't even want to think about her potential psionic talent. "I am not an adept." She repeated, squinting disgruntledly through the open bathroom door at the black rug that covered the obvious evidence to the contrary.

I'm twenty-four years old, and adepts start initializing at eight or ten, or sixteen at the latest. And I've even been tested...

She could convince herself all she wanted, but the facts were under the mat ten paces away. Feeling herself getting a little nervous, she pulled out one Fenote capsule and chewed it:

Why am I even bothering with this? The icy taste in her mouth was refreshing and refreshing to think, "I don't know how to use these powers anyway. And I don't want to. So I don't have to worry about discipline, or whatever they call it. I just won't use it, that's all. And I won't even try to develop it or anything else. And to make sure it doesn't turn out like today, I'll be careful with the Fenote, five capsules a day, no more. Or better yet, I'll just carry it with me, and if I have a fit, as I did with Count Barazu back then, I'll take one or two.

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She liked that feeling of quiet rationality in her head. And it gave her a simple, realistic, plan of action.

It can't help but make her happy. Taer felt quite pleased with herself. It was a rarity, and even the memory of Count Barazu did not interfere with her elation. He's just a snooty old man who thinks he's condescended to the small-minded children.

She mentally replayed everything that had happened in the bot, her reaction, and was pleased to find that it didn't affect her at all, not one bit.

It doesn't matter what I was thinking. It's the actions that matter. Her actions were well within the bounds of a normal reaction.

She repeated the phrase mentally several more times, realizing each time that it did not cause her any internal protest. Because I'm normal.

And that made it all the more satisfying:

I just have to get rid of those slabs in the bathroom. Normal people don't leave dents in the stone.

The tower was still full of construction droids, she could have called in a team with torches, and it would only take a couple of minutes, if not less:

But the noise. The noise will be terrible. Taer reached for the security monitor and, at the same time, running diagnostics, called up the readings of the Lord's biomonitor. Despite the late hour, he was awake. His room's across the wall-it'll all be audible. And even if he was asleep - the security team on duty isn't far away. They might have questions, too.

It turned out it had to be done when the lord and the guards weren't around. She took out her communicator and summoned the officer on duty:

Has the lord's schedule for tomorrow been determined?

"Only partially, Sword." The attendant on duty answered after a pause. He must have checked his notes. "Two meetings and one trip are scheduled."

"Send me a copy."

First, a meeting with Nadine Pell - venue undetermined. Then a trip to the Admiralty, two hours reserved...

This could have been the opportunity, but the trip had to take place in the afternoon. During that time, someone could have discovered everything by accident:

Rima, for instance, has a habit of dropping in on me for no reason at all. She wondered what she could do with Rima. There's always a way to think of some urgent business for her on the other side of the planet, and she'll whine, of course, but she'll go.

But that was all wrong, no matter where Rima was, the longer these plates existed, the greater the chance that they would be discovered. This had to be dealt with immediately.

I don't have to wait for the lord to leave. I could just offer him a walk. There was a very picturesque hanging garden on the middle level of the tower. And the weather is just to his liking, drizzling and chilly.

For some reason, she was sure that the lord would agree. The guards would be no problem at all. They are under her command. She would simply order them to move out and station around the perimeter of the garden. It would be quite logical and would not raise any questions.

There was still the floor attendant. She could say it was emergency work for security reasons.

And it's better not to say anything at all. I haven't told them much, and if I do, it will only raise questions.

There was still the possibility that someone would see everything while the droids were working, the same servants.

.. It's always a hassle with living witnesses - where they'll go, what they'll do...

This problem, however, was very easy to solve. Taer springily got up from the bed and, leaving the infoblock on it went to the bathroom, where her belt with the weapon had been removed from her uniform:

It's all in my power. She smiled, feeling the metallic coolness of the sword in her palm.

From there, she acted very quickly, surprised at her agility. Standing on the edge of the bathroom, she disassembled the housing of the thermal sensor of the fire alarm and, having removed it, turned the sensor to the wall. If you turn it off, the automatics can get worried, but as it is, it works but does not see anything.

She wet a mountain of towels and, putting aside the black mat, made a sort of canopy around the dent. On this floor, the whole atmosphere was recirculating, and the strange fumes in it, too, might have been alarming.

When the preparations were done, she quickly undressed and, covering herself with her wet robe, began carefully wielding her sword to melt the floor. The golden flame of the blade hissed against the damp stone slabs, leaving trails of red handmade lava that quickly faded.

Taer acted carefully, not getting carried away, or else the stoves would overheat and simply burst. She paused periodically, and poured some water on the floor, filling the tub with puffs of steam. This didn't bother her one bit, though. The steam in the bathtub would not arouse any suspicions.

After a few minutes of looking at the melted slabs, it was impossible to tell exactly what had happened here:

If anyone sees it, they're more likely to think I dropped my switched-on sword. And my attempt to sneak it out wouldn't be surprising. It's embarrassing, isn't it?

Taer quickly shoved the wet towels and robe into the utility closet. Getting rid of all the evidence, she got under the shower again to wash off the pungent, dry smell of molten rock:

That's all - was it worth the trouble? She was very pleased with herself.

After jumping out of the shower and making sure the stoves were cool enough, she covered them again with the black rug, and in her joy, she even decided to find the strength to finish recording the dream:

"Then I woke up in a strange grove or forest where the trees had needles instead of leaves. At that moment, I knew I was dreaming." Taer started dictating, collapsing on the bed without getting dressed. "I concentrated on the source of my fear, and a dog appeared. A very large vorskl-sized dog. The dog got scared and ran into the house, where there was a woman with a face like mine but with scary eyes..."

She clicked the button, stopping the recording. She hadn't thought of it in her dream, but now Taer was sure she'd seen those eyes somewhere.

That's right, Countess Darlurl, the same piercing undead stare, prickly and cold. It dawned on her. "With eyes like those of the Countess of Darlurl." She went on the recording. "The woman said I was long dead, and in my dream, I believed her. Perhaps she symbolized my fear of authority and elders?" Taer suggested without certainty.

The hostess looked very bossy. She may well have symbolized authority, but what does that have to do with my death? Taer pondered this for a moment, but she still had no good ideas. Never mind, dreams have their own logic.

She felt a sense of accomplishment, threw the recorder away, hit the opposite chair with it, and ran to the dressing room with joyful anticipation. She had to choose what she would wear to meet the lord:

The uniform, of course, is appropriate, but he likes it better when I'm in a dress. Taer went through her things quickly, looking for appropriate options. But wouldn't a dress be too drastic a change? We could put on something white and strict to smooth out the transition...

The search did not last long:

Absolutely nothing to wear! Mentally she groaned after only a few minutes.

Her closet was woefully poor. Rima had terrible taste. Most dresses were not ashamed to wear only to the beach, and there was nowhere near what was needed. And what was needed, she imagined very clearly: a long snow-white narrow skirt with a high slit on the thigh, the same color jacket with pronounced shoulders. All this would set a kind of heredity with the uniform. Large earrings to accentuate the neck, and with the right color. Eyes won't get lost in the abundance of white, a warm shade blouse to break up that snowy cover-up, a rich, bright purple lipstick, nails, and shoes to match the lipstick. Simple, elegant, and completely out of her reach.

Taer looked unhappily at her reflection in the mirror wondering what to do. It was possible to make the cluster find some decent catalog and order delivery, in the capital it should not be a problem: But time...

It would take her an hour, if not more, and there was lingerie that wasn't there, and a dress with a high slit required stockings or at least a garter. The shoes, the earrings, there was nothing, not even rings, the annoying lack of attention to detail:

Although the lack of rings is his fault, he could have gifted them. Grudgingly, Taer thought, pouting at her reflection. Though, he doesn't know that it's customary to give them... Shall I say? It's kind of obtrusive.

As she pondered what to do, it became clear to her what was wrong with her reflection. Her hair. It was arranged in a tight bun at the nape of her neck:

It's hard to think of a duller hairstyle, not even an interesting barrette, but at least it opens up the neck.

It was all wrong, with what we have, the first impression would be very weak, and there was no time for anything more:

Maybe it's not time for a first impression yet. Taer finally decided, looking at herself in the mirror. I'll just freshen up my face with makeup.

So she did. She quickly retrieved the makeup bag Rima had given her a few years ago: some eyeshadow, and a drop of foundation, to take away the shine. The only thing she had left from the original plan was lipstick. She thought of perfume, but no: Too deliberate.

"Would it disturb you if I came in?" Taer summoned the lord's com when the preparations were done, and she was dressed in her fresh uniform.

"Taer?" There was a look of obvious surprise in his voice. "Come in, of course, how can you disturb me."

The secret door that connected their rooms hissed upward, revealing an empty living room. The lord was further away, in his study, sitting at his desk, clearly working on an infoblock when Taer interrupted him. Next to him stood the angular protocol droid they had picked up with Dudo. It was an exclusive model, combining the cognition of protocol with the flexibility of analytical thinking - very expensive.

"Allow me to attest to my deepest..." The droid rattled but was stopped by Taer's gesture. This model, for all its merits, is tiresomely courteous.

"You had such an intriguing voice on the comm that I didn't even recognize you right away." The lord admitted with a smile as he put the infobox aside. "Did something happen?"

"No, I just wanted to suggest a walk," Taer answered him with a smile. "If you're not busy, of course. I want to make amends for leaving you right after I arrived."

"I was just filling in the gaps in my knowledge of the structure of the empire. It's something I can do forever, and I could use a break, so I'll gladly take you up on your offer.

"His Lordship, with his usual modesty, understates his achievements." The electronic scrooge rattled, but Taer didn't listen:

"Then I'll make arrangements for security and stuff." She pronounced, heading for the door. "I'll meet you in a few minutes."

She quickly ordered the security team to move into the garden and just as quickly instructed the droids, just in case she warned the guard on duty that she had ordered. A small re-build.

"Where are we going?" Alex asked, looking at Taer with interest as the elevator doors closed behind them.

"There's a pretty nice garden on the middle level of the tower." Calmly, Taer replied. She was pleased to feel his attention, but she wasn't about to show it.

"By the way, you look great. The sleep has obviously done you good." He continued, still looking at her with interest.

"Sixteen hours of sleep works wonders, and there's less gravity in the capital than on Copeira, so it's good for rest. I'm honestly surprised that you don't sleep yourself because you have meetings in the morning..."

"I've decided not to sleep at all," Alex admitted, a little embarrassed. "I feel great on stimulants. So it would be silly to waste time sleeping now. There's so much to learn.

"And what have you learned?" Taer asked playfully, making an inviting gesture. The elevator doors just opened. They arrived in the garden.

"Well, for example, that Emperor is the highest military rank, not a title."

"Did you consider it a title?" She asked, taking him under her arm. "Now, that's quite daring, if not scandalous."

"Well, yes." The lord agreed. "Good thing I didn't blurt it out anywhere."

The garden was designed so it looked as if someone had torn an uneven chunk out of the tower, leaving only the sparse black strands of columns and the jagged triangles of converging walls. Everything else was replaced by wild flora.

Below, at eye level, it was practically empty. Only soft red moss and sparse paths of polished black stone were highlighted by the dotted lights, but overhead, a continuous blanket of lianas floated like living clouds. Reddish, reddish, purple, green, almost naked, and covered in leaves. Some were more like thick fluffy tails. The yellow light from the ceiling panels tangled in the many greenery, casting the garden in a soft semi-darkness.

And it was fresh here, too. The cool, moist air flowed in a soft, refreshing wave down to the base of the garden, bringing the scents of leaves and flowers.

They walked along the path along the edge of the garden, separated from the night city only by an invisible wall of force shields. The guards, who had arrived in the garden beforehand, kept their distance, and it seemed as if it was just the two of them walking down the alley.

And this leisurely walk filled Taer with such a peaceful serenity that she didn't want to disturb her with words. She just silently enjoyed his company, knowing that it would not last.

They, walking in silence under their arms, somewhere below their feet, flowed the lava of the signal lights of night traffic, the vines of the garden floated over their heads at the speed of their step, and the light of the neighboring towers merged into the jagged canyon of the street, through which the aerocars darted, shiny with rain and looking like huge glittering fish. And the city below, from the tranquility of the garden, seemed pointless, filled with the unnecessary bustle of tiny people and cars:

"Like toys." The lord voiced her thoughts, stopping at the edge of the tower.

"Fragile and empty." continued Taer, earning him a long stare.

"You're mysterious again." He looked at her with interest.

"You don't like it when I'm like this?" she asked, looking into his eyes.

"I like it." He smiled, looking into her eyes, and added, looking down at the city. "Maybe even like it too much."

"Then," she took him under the arm again, "why don't we take another walk?"

And they walked on through the yellow twilight of the garden.

Sometimes, even the ocean of time is not enough.

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