Chapter 17

* * *

Waking up was strange. There was no distinction between oblivion and consciousness, neither darkness nor light. Just Alex realized at some point that he was looking at the ceiling. It was an ordinary ceiling, almost white with a faint golden sparkle, slightly curved with a hint that it might be a part of the dome.

Or maybe just curved, like in the guest rooms at the palace. Alex contemplated, not feeling his own body at all.

He felt like a disembodied observer - no pain, though he remembered the punctured lung and broken ribs, no hunger, no thirst, no throbbing in his head at least - nothing at all. It was as if he had no body at all.

That would be very inconvenient. He grinned and tried to turn his head. It worked, but not right away; moving your muscles when you can't feel any feedback at all is very uncomfortable. There were tubes in his nose, too. That could also have had an effect.

Slowly, as he turned his head, the picture of the world turned: first, there was the edge of the tall windows touching the ceiling, and a bright streak of pale blue sky, then a wide bracket, a metal paw hanging over the edge of the bed, studded with sensors, buttons, and the lights of small screens. A bright yellow plastic curtain hung beneath the bracket, now pushed aside, with only the dazzling light of the bowed goddess behind it.

A woman was sitting next to his bed, and the huge sunset sun shining through the windows was blazing around her head with a halo of blinding gold. Her face was almost indistinguishable in the glow, but there was so much majestic beauty and serenity in her silhouette illuminated by the fiery gold that Alex involuntarily admired, mesmerized by the sight:

"You look like a goddess." He said, surprised at how easily the words came out. It was as if the tearing pain in his chest hadn't been there recently.

The goddess put the infoblock aside and turned to him. Even through the sheen of her halo, he could see that she was smiling:

"What an immodest compliment Prince." He heard Artala's voice, which only confirmed his guesses, caused by the white uniform peeking out from under the green medical coat slung over her shoulders and her short hair. "I have to wonder if you really think so or if you're just drunk on anesthetic."

"I think so." He nodded, squinting slightly. His body was slowly remembering how to behave if you were looking at bright light.

"I don't believe it." She laughed. "You should see your eyes - the pupils are huge. I'd ask you how you feel..." Artala leaned closer to him, and the mischievous glint in her blue eyes became visible. "But I know you don't feel anything right now. So just welcome back, Prince."

"Thank you." He smiled, looking at her with one eye. It was too bright for two. "To what do I owe the pleasure of such a pleasant greeting?"

"Oh, Prince..." The princess sighed heavily, and her smile turned miserable. "Be thankful it's just me here. Do you have any idea what started when Daim Diltar told me that you fell down the stairs, so much so that you needed an operation? Can you imagine the tragedy if you'd died during the onstum? Well, I mean, it would have been a tragedy either way." She corrected herself in a conciliatory tone. "But during an onstum, it's also a political disaster, especially after Duke Assaro's death, especially when you're investigating it."

"Indeed, that would be very unbecoming." He nodded with the look of a seasoned politician. "Please accept my apologies."

"That's enough." She laughed again. "You'd better tell me how it's going there?" She asked sharply, becoming more serious.

"There where?" Alex sincerely did not understand.

"Well, there..." Artala raised her eyes meaningfully to the imaginary heavens. "You've been in a coma for four hours, and you're of blessed lineage. Did you see the Bright Edge of the Flames?"

She was so serious and, at the same time, looking with such interest that he was even kind of embarrassed to say he hadn't seen anything at all:

"To be honest, nothing at all." He admitted with a guilty look. "I just passed out and woke up here."

"But what about it? You're from a blessed family, aren't you?" Artala seemed genuinely upset. "To you, and to the Flame Lords, Ryan should send you dreams and omens..."

"I lost my memory." Alex reminded her. "I might have forgotten or not realized what I was dreaming about. What do you think a dream sent by Ryan should look like?"

"An endless sea of fire, with rising waves of golden flame." The princess explained with complete conviction. "And some prophecies or warnings. Or just the presence of her divine essence," she added, much less confidently.

Actually, that description fits pretty well with what he'd dreamed at the moment of transference:

"There was something like that." Alex nodded.

"When?" Artala's eyes lit up.

She was obviously very curious: Does religious upbringing have an effect? Although she was also very interested in fortune-telling. But maybe one doesn't contradict the other?

"When I was poisoned." He answered aloud, trying not to sound condescending.

"I guess an induced coma doesn't count." More like talking to herself, she muttered and then asked. "Was it scary?"

He honestly tried to remember what he had experienced then:

"I guess not."

"You betcha." Artala sighed enviously. "It must be like coming home for you..."

She clearly wanted to ask something else, but footsteps were heard from somewhere on the side of his feet, and Dudo's voice:

"Your Lordship, are you awake?"

"I should have warned them when you woke up." The princess whispered, "It's all your fault, Prince." She snorted defiantly. Her nose turned up. "You've distracted me with all this nonsense."

At this point, Dudo was approaching, but not alone. Liora and one of the medics from the guards were with him:

Tivo or Tilo? Alex couldn't even remember his name to his shame - his 'Arm' was expanding very rapidly, before flying to the capital.

The medic asked Alex how he was feeling and warned him that the effect of the painkillers would soon wear off and started fiddling with the screens that were on the bracket hanging above the bed.

"Well, there's probably a lot of procedures coming up. So I'll get out of your way." The princess apologized as she rose. "Oh, by the way." She paused, clearly remembering something. "Father told me to tell you not to even think about dying during Onstum. And you better keep an eye on him." She added, turning to Liora.

"I will do my best." Liora bowed her head and added, "Your Highness."

For which she got a parting poke from the princess.

Liora looked completely impenetrable, but Dudo looked like a man who was torn by the need to say something. Alex had a lot of questions he wanted to ask without anyone else around.

"Their Lordships, will they be able to eat soon?" Liora asked the medic, seeming to understand without words.

"Yeah, anytime now." The man shrugged. "It's just that while the feeling of hunger is blocked, it'll pass soon enough."

"Then, unless you're busy with some vital procedure. I'd like a moment of your time, please. It will be necessary to coordinate with you, as a doctor, the menu for His Lordship."

"I don't know..." The confused medic looked to Dudo for support as a superior.

"It's worth consulting the esteemed Liora." With an important look, Dudo nodded. "I'll keep an eye on His Lordship for now."

"Were there any other casualties?" Alex asked as the medic and Liora left the room, at the same time trying to look around him. But without much success. He was wearing a kind of vest made of thick white plastic with some tubes and wires.

"No," Dudo answered, not at all surprised by the question.

Good. He exhaled mentally. The fact that she wasn't going to kill him had become clear the moment she'd handed him over to the medics, though she could have easily killed him using the same cover she'd used on the droid, but there was no clarity about the others.

"Where's Daim Diltar?"

"We don't know exactly." Dudo sighed. "I'm trying to find out now, maybe at the palace."

"In the palace?" Alex wondered involuntarily. "It doesn't get easier by the hour, and what could she have forgotten there?"

"She went to warn about what happened to you." He explained. "Never came back, said there were some bureaucratic complications and not to be disturbed."

It was not pleasant. It was frightening to imagine what she might have done in the palace.....

Although, so far, everything was very reasonable - falling down the stairs... Alex grinned mentally. In principle, why not - it removes a lot of questions.

"I assume, Your Lordship, there was no mini-droid?" Dudo asked, and it was clear from the look on his face that he didn't believe it at all. "We're, uh, in an isolated area. The suppressors are working." He added.

"And what makes you think that?" Alex squinted, not that he was going to mess around. He was just curious.

"We've looked all over, like five or six times." He shrugged. "No droid, no sign of intrusion. And even if there was a droid, it'd be weird enough to break your ribs, and that's it."

"I could have broken them in a fall." Alex objected with a smile, playing devil's advocate. "When Daim Diltar pushed me out of the line of fire, for example."

"Perhaps." Dudo nodded curtly. "But the furniture is intact, and getting injuries like that from a fall to the floor is very unlikely. And the medics say there are two distinct signs of blunt force trauma. It doesn't add up, Your Lordship."

"So you don't believe in the droid version..." "Your Lordship" sighed disappointedly.

"Nope." Dudo grinned. "The princess didn't believe it either, it seems. She threatened to storm the tower if we didn't let her see that Lord Cassard was alive."

"Really?" Alex asked in surprise.

"Seriously." Dudo nodded. "And the Carpathians took Diltar's "no one but medics" order very literally. It's a whole story. Peleng Admiral Niazur is a medic, by the way, and qualified when she joined the Ranger Corps.

"Interesting..." Alex stretched out, looking up at the ceiling. "Anything else as interesting?"

"Even more interesting, Your Lordship." Dudo sighed unhappily. "Where the kidnappers kept Daim Diltar's, we found a recording of her interrogation. And not only ..." He added, clearly at a loss for words. "You'd better see for yourself."

Dudo pulled out his infoblock and quickly clicked on something, and held it out to Alex.

* * *

On the monitor was an operating room, or some other medical room, laconic perfectly smooth floor, pale green color, and the same walls. In the background could be seen mobile tables with equipment, now covered with gray covers and most likely turned off. Right in the center of the frame was the First Blade of his domain, the person to whom Alex owed his life at least three times - Taer Diltar. She was helpless, covered with some sensors, dressed in a thin tunic in the tone of the whole room, and pulled to a large dental chair by wide flat straps made of yellow plastic. She was clearly out of it-her eyes were wandering, and she was having a hard time keeping her head straight, looking like she was either about to fall asleep or very drunk.

"One minute and forty-five seconds after administering the drug, all vitals are normal." A voiceover commented. "We're good to go."

A loud voice echoed through the room, clearly distorted by the orber and therefore more like the scraping of metal:

"I'm your friend. I want to help you. Can you hear me? Answer me. Each answer will make you feel better."

There was no response, though: Taer dropped her head to her chest like a broken doll, her mouth open, her gaze unfocused and staring off into infinity.

"Can you hear me? Answer me." Repeated several times by the interrogator without any effect.

"All vitals are within normal limits. She's conscious and should be able to hear you." The first voice, which must have belonged to a medic, said. "Just give her some time."

The attempts at interrogation had stopped, and the interrogated person was still lying in the chair like an abandoned puppet. Thirty seconds passed, and suddenly, as if someone had pulled a string, Taer's head was upright, her face smooth and calm, even contented, and only her eyes were unnaturally still and looking through. It all produced a very eerie and, at the same time, familiar effect. Alex had seen such a look before:

During the assassination attempt at the castle, when Taer lost her arm. The specialist "looked" creepy then, too, and as Taer explained later, she was under the control of "guider" - a complex of other people's artificially imparted skills, or something like that. Alex couldn't understand how it worked, and then he didn't care about it.

"Can you hear me?" came the metal-gnashing voice again.

"I hear you," Taer replied calmly, absorbed in looking at her own hand. She was alternately flexing her fingers as if she were trying to play an invisible piano, and the process seemed to amuse her-she was smiling. "Even better than good. You can keep your voice down."

"I'm your friend." Repeated the interrogator, really toning it down. "I want to help you. Answer my questions. Each answer will make you feel better. I'll start with some simple questions. Is your name Taer Diltar?"

"Taer Diltar?" Taer was clearly pensive, not stopping to look at her hand. She was silent for a moment as if remembering something. "Yes, that's what they called me."

"Why are you looking at your hand?" Suddenly the interrogator asked.

Taer finally took her eyes off her hand and turned her still unnaturally fixed eyes directly to the camera:

"It's just an exercise." She smiled disarmingly. The smile looked very genuine and natural, but when combined with the fixed, staring eyes, it made it seem frightening. "Helps keep perception at the right level."

"Stop performing it, and answer my questions." The voice commanded."What is your age?"

"There is no correct answer to that question." Taer objected calmly. "It requires clarification. What kind of age do you want? Objective age? Subjective age? Cumulative age? Linear age? The active time of life of a given body? Total time since the birth of this body? And why?" she added, stopping looking directly into the camera and looking at the walls around her.

The interrogator was silent for a moment, obviously not knowing how to react to Taer's tirade, but he was soon up to his interrogation:

"Answer my questions. I want to help you. Each answer will make you feel better."

"Or?" Taer asked blankly, still looking around. "There always has to be an or. What if I scream?"

"No one will hear you. No one can help you. I'm the only one who can help you. Answer my questions. I'm your friend."

"Wonderful." Taer smiled.

At that moment, the picture flickered. There was a sound like something bursting, the camera flew to the side, and everything on the screen spun at a wild speed - the floor and walls flickered.

Dudo pushed a button and stopped the footage:

"Further, it is better to watch from the second camera." He explained, fiddling with the infoblock.

He started a new recording. The second camera was positioned near the ceiling, and there was a general view of the room. Directly across from the chair to which Taer was chained, about five meters away, was a low table where the man who'd been interrogating her was probably sitting. For it was near him, a small globe of orber flew, making him look like a shivering gray silhouette. Next to it was a smaller mobile table filled with equipment, with which a man in a pale green jumpsuit was fiddling. He looked like a medic. There was no orber near him, but the medic's face was almost completely hidden by a breathing mask.

Dudo quickly flicked a button and scrolled the footage forward.

"Wonderful," Taer spoke again on the screen, and at that moment, everything exploded. Literally. The chair beneath Taer was blown apart by shrapnel, one of the large pieces of shrapnel piercing the equipment table and hitting the medic, knocking him to the ground. Taer herself was thrown forward at the interrogator.

"One more time." Asked a slightly dumbfounded Alex. "What could have exploded in there? And it's so quiet... Did the camera get damaged?"

"You're about to see for yourself, Your Lordship. I'm going to run it in extreme slow motion."

Dudo zoomed in so Taer could be seen better and started the recording again.

Everything swam slowly as if through a thick syrup, the yellow plastic straps that held Taer in place bursting at once, and she slowly raised her hand. Her palm rose to her face with the back of her hand, and she looked at the room through her spread fingers. It lasted for just a moment, even in slow motion, and then Taer made a motion with her palm like she was pushing something forward, just a little. And then Alex saw a dense wave of distortion coming from her palm, expanding rapidly, clearly visible on the recording as if she had pushed forward all the air in the room at once.

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The wave appeared and then disappeared, but what it had touched was flying forward as if thrown by a giant hand. One of the armrests of the chair broke through the lid of the opened infoblock case and hit the medical technician exactly in the throat - blood spurted. Another piece of the chair, catching the orber on the way, hit a small plastic box on the wall, inside of which something sparked. Taer herself grouped in flight and collapsed on the interrogator.

"I'm not an inquisitor." Pronounced Dudo in a half voice. "But I'll be damned if that's not the job of adept."

Me neither, but it's pretty damn alike. Alex agreed mentally. With a silent nod, he switched the recording to normal speed.

As a result, Taer had knocked the interrogator to the floor and was now sitting on his chest with her left knee at his throat and her right knee pressing his left arm into the floor. The medical technician was lying face down on the floor next to him, and a large pool of blood was spreading rapidly near his head.

Orber was shattered, so the recent interrogator was now clearly visible, a rather fit man of about forty, dressed deliberately discreetly - a gray jacket, gray pants, something like high black sneakers or loafers on his feet. He had blond, short-cropped hair, and his face was hard to see Taer was blocking the view. He wheezed furiously, trying to get up, but he couldn't, and not surprisingly, Alex knew from experience that despite her slender build, his security specialist was unbearable. The interrogator's right hand was in Taer's grasp, and in one steady movement, she twisted it, causing a groan, but she didn't stop there, continuing to twist it further.

There was a quiet but still audible crunch, even on the recording, and then another. The man struggled and tried to scream, but the knee on his throat made it sound more like the gagging wheeze of a dying animal. When Taer released her grip on the man's arm, it simply fell, left twisted at an unnatural angle, obviously broken.

Ignoring the muffled wheezes of her defeated foe, Taer began her search.

Acting with one hand, one by one, she laid out on the floor beside her: a small concealed-carry blaster, two infoblocks, a small communicator, a cigarette case, a lighter, a whole stack of danarii, and some more scattered about, two more stacks of creds, one of which was incomplete.

Taer took the communicator and opened it, studying it with interest.

"And have you quieted my man in uniform?" Suddenly she inquired affectionately, of the interrogator who had really quieted down during the search. "Have you had a blockade? Are you in pain? Do you see this as deliverance?"

Taer put the communicator aside and reached out sharply, grabbing the head of the medic lying next to her with one hand and dragging it like a rag doll, pinning it forcefully against the interrogator's face:

"Look, Captain." She said ingratiatingly, smiling affectionately. "Here's deliverance."

The captain could hardly see anything, though, the blood from the medic's torn throat pouring down his face and into his eyes. He was twitching, wheezing, shaking his head, but Taer kept pushing the medic's face into his face.

"He only felt his neck burn hot." Taer continued just as sweetly, clearly reveling in the 'interrogator's' reaction. "The world shook, and he fell into merciful darkness. His brain was still alive, but no longer feeling anything."

She tossed the medic aside and grabbed the "captain" by the chin, turning his blood-soaked face toward her:

"But there's a difference between you two. I liked him."

She leaned closer to him, and as she leaned her affectionate smile turned into a grin:

"I didn't like you, you scum." She growled in his face. "And you'll regret not being able to feel pain."

She recoiled and her fingers pressed forcefully into the captain's cheekbones forcing his mouth open:

"Eat it." She started shoving the captain's broken arm into his mouth. "Eat. I'll make you eat it."

The captain wheezed, twitching, but there was nothing he could do. Taer was obviously much stronger.

Judging by the recording time, this scene lasted for forty-two seconds, and with each second, Alex was glad that the angle of shooting did not allow him to see all the details and the most important thing - Taer's eyes.

Unfortunately, his imagination was painting a more than vivid picture of what saw the man his First Blade called Captain:

A pale, pissed-off girl, with the cold, fixed eyes of a doll, looking through you, shoving your own hand down your throat. The image made him cringe.

But he kidnapped her. He reminded himself. And drugged her with something. Something that affects the brain.

That reminder made watching what was happening on the screen a little easier, but just a little bit.

It ended as quickly as it had begun. Taer suddenly stopped shoving the captain's hand into his mouth, and the animal grin disappeared from her face. She stopped torturing the wheezing captain and reached for his cigarette case, and with one hand, she took out a cigarette and tossed it up, catching it deftly with her mouth:

"And there's no one to stop us, my man in uniform." She concluded calmly, lighting a cigarette from a lighter picked up from the floor. "You are right. No one will hear me. No one will help you. Otherwise, they'd be here by now. And since they're not, no one's going to care unless the interrogation time exceeds reasonable limits. And interrogations take a long time. Especially interrogating a woman. You know how to do that, don't you?" she asked, leaning in again and scrutinizing the "captain's" face:

"You know. A little, but you do." She concluded with a smile. "It's spicy."

For a little over a minute, Taer smoked quietly, still sitting on the chest of the defeated interrogator, resting her knee on his throat, while he wheezed quietly, trying to breathe and not even kicking anymore.

"It's crap, not cigarettes." Taer sighed, finishing one and pulling the second from her cigarette case.

She lit the second cigarette and pulled out a pair of miniature flat scissors from the cigarette case, fixed to the inside of the lid, and played with them for a while, twirling them on her finger and looking thoughtfully at the captain. He kept his eyes on the scissors that were rotating on Taer's finger, and though Alex couldn't see his face, he could have sworn that the captain was scared to death.

"I was thinking Captain." Taer finally broke the silence, bringing the scissors up so the captive could see better. "You wanted to draw a career for yourself with me. I should paint you, too."

She released the Captain's whole arm from under her knee, and grasping it firmly with one hand, drew the Captain's palm to his very face:

"You understand me, don't you?" She asked with a sadistic smile, beginning to leisurely cut off the captain's pinky finger. "Like an artist to an artist?"

The captive wheezed, struggling to wrench his hand away, but Taer managed to hold it almost still, and she slowly, clearly savoring what was happening, sliced his finger into the rags of flesh.

It took about half a minute before the captain's pinky finger landed on his blood-drenched face:

"Brush." Taer smiled, showing the captain his severed finger.

With her knee securing her captive's arm again, Taer began to draw right next to her on the floor, using his finger as a brush.

It went on for quite a long time, more than two minutes. She was painting and smoking, and it looked very peaceful, and as far as Alex could see, she was really painting. Not just a doodle but something that could be considered the work of a real artist. It was a portrait, full-face. A man's face contorted in a mute scream, except instead of a mouth, he had an open palm.

It's a piece of modern art ladies and gentlemen. Alex suddenly feels a kick of very dark humor. Look. It's painted in blood, using the victim's finger. A one-of-a-kind work. A conceptual breakthrough. Place your bets.

And they will. And they'll buy it for a lot of money.

When Taer finished drawing, she turned to the captive again:

"I guess the blockade has worked enough for you to become a more rational being?" She inquired quite calmly. "You agree that the priority goal for the mind is to increase the available lifespan? Variations are possible when there are heirs of the genetic line, but you don't have children, Captain, do you?"

"No." The captive wheezed as Taer eased the pressure on his throat.

"And extending the ability to think is desirable to you?"

"Yes."

"A reasonable choice." Nodded Taer with a soft smile. "Then listen."

"I plan to give a gift. To do this, I'm going to rip off your arm and shove it down your throat. The throat will be severed in the process, but the main arteries will not be affected. You'll die of asphyxiation, and the blockage will keep you from passing out from the painful shock. It'll take about two minutes, and I'll be watching you the whole time."

Taer paused and looked at her captive carefully:

"Do you understand?" She asked, and after he nodded, she continued:

"But I have a proposition. I want to ask you questions and get the truth in return. In exchange, I'll offer you two options. One: After I get all the information I want, I'll shoot you in the eye. It will happen so quickly that your mind will not have time to react, and your brain will die before it can feel the pain. And then I'll rip your arm off and gag you. A very easy death."

"Or."

"I will give you a head start, eight seconds. After the interrogation, I will stand up and let you move, and I will not attack you or impede your movement for eight seconds. Chances are you'll be able to run out into the hallway in time. Most likely, your allies are there. Most likely armed. Events may occur that will cause me to abandon my pursuit."

She paused again: "Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes." Feverishly the captive nodded. "I accept the deal, option two."

"Wonderful." Taer smiled again. "If you lie the first time, I will shoot you in the knee, which will greatly reduce your chances. The second time I will deem you unhelpful as a source of information and kill you. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal."

"Then I'll start with some simple questions. Each answer will make it easier for you."

The interrogation lasted almost twenty minutes, and Taer was ice-cold calm. Her manic outbursts are gone. The interrogation itself was equally dry and formal: name, rank, position, objectives, number of people involved, supervisor of the operation, plans... that sort of thing.

If you close your eyes to avoid seeing it all, you'd think you were watching a boring manual for investigators. Alex thought, listening to the monotonous flow of questions and answers.

The results of the interrogation were hardly shocking either. The hapless interrogator was indeed a captain. To be more precise, he was formally a former stack captain of the Imperial Security Service. However, he was the only representative of the Security Service. All the other executors were mercenaries who had never dealt with the Security Service before and, of course, did not know who their employer really was. This was one of the requirements of the operation - the minimum number of possible evidence. Everything was organized quietly. The order to conduct it was given verbally by the deputy curator of the third department of the SS, but the prisoner believed that in the end, it was all done on the orders of the new head of the SS, aka the Head of the Inquisition.

There was, of course, no evidence. The goals were not surprising, either - to obtain evidence, or at least information, that Lord Cassard had committed crimes serious enough to warrant the arrest or at least detention of the Prince.

What's more, they knew in advance what to ask. The interrogation plan included questions about connections with the Rebels and Lord Cassard's activities on Tallana.

How could they know? Alex thought, listening to the monotonous speech. Although Lord Velaske knew that I was taken to Tallana and was connected to the Security Service... But how did he know about the Rebels? I don't understand why the Lord Inquisitor is so obsessed. Why such a violent reaction to an isekai? Too bad there's no one to ask. But there is something that can be done...

When Taer stopped her questioning, Alex signaled Dudo to stop the video:

"There was one thing that confused me. Taer asked what was done with the back of her head, and it turned out that they found this..." Alex paused, remembering exactly how the captain put it. "Artificial cartilage of a special shape and composition, capable of receiving complexly modulated signals in the long-wave range, and with a charge of two-component explosives in it. They removed it. Am I right in thinking this was an organic bomb that was supposed to blow Taer's head off when it received some kind of signal?"

"Yes, Your Lordship. It's not likely to blow her head off. It is more likely to cause fatal brain damage. And maybe not by getting a signal, but the explosion would've happened if the signal hadn't come through for a while. That's why they removed it. Daim Taer's unharmed condition was one of their priorities."

"Is this normal for intelligence? You're a Navy sabotage team. Do you have that in your head?"

"Not that I know of, Your Lordship," Dudo answered without much confidence. "But I have heard of such a thing in the case of highly classified assignments."

"Thayer was involved in top-secret operations? I don't remember that on her record... But I guess that's not included in her record."

"You're probably right, Your Lordship. If this sort of thing ever gets out, it's in the secret files."

"It's naive to expect Countess Durlurl to send me a secret dossier. Maybe Taer told me about something like that."

"Daim Taer, not one to talk about herself much. But..." Dudo hesitated for a moment, obviously choosing his words. "Her career was very meteoric. Very."

"I see. I can't rule it out. Okay," Alex waved his hand. "Let's get on with it."

The picture on the screen came to life again, and Taer picked up her blaster from the floor and lifted herself off the defeated captain:

"That's all I wanted to ask." She informed coldly, defiantly putting her blaster on standby. "Time's up. Eight..."

The captain rolled over onto his stomach and scrabbling with his hands on the slippery, blood-soaked floor, sprinted toward the door. At the count of five, the prisoner unlocked the door and burst out into the corridor, disappearing from the camera's view. Taer was not deterred by this, and she continued counting down the time in the same measured and calm manner. When the time expired, she took one lightning-fast leap and literally shot herself down the corridor, flying near the top edge of the open doors.

All the actors disappeared, and only the technician remained on the screen, still lying on the floor in a huge pool of blood. There was heavy gunfire and shouting from the corridor, but not for long, about twenty seconds, after which there was silence.

"Seven dead," Dudo commented, scrolling the tape forward. "Five of them, one shot to the left eye. Another one had six hits, two in the shoulder, one in the throat, and three in the back of the head. And the last one... with an arm to the throat. Most likely, there was at least one more since all the victims were wearing clothes. We're in the process of ID'ing them now, but it's unlikely there'll be anything interesting. And what's strange." He added in a halftone, "The arm was indeed torn off, not something you can usually do to a human body, even if you have very great strength. Maybe it's a manifestation of the life adept's abilities."

These adepts and their abilities should be dealt with as soon as possible. Alex made a mental note of it. Now it's an absolute necessity.

It took more than six minutes of footage before Taer reappeared. Her face was still as blankly calm as ever, but she had changed from her pale green hospital gown to a tight gray high-collar jacket decorated with bright yellow graffiti-style symbols, tight black pants, and heavy boots on her feet. The clothes were clearly off-the-shoulder and not quite to her liking, and the jacket was a little small in the chest. On her shoulder, she carried a large gym bag.

Carefully stepping around the pool of blood, Taer walked over to the table where the medical technician was working and set her bag on it. She opened several of the cases on the table and began moving things into her bag: an injector, a whole bunch of disposable syringes, and cylinders for the injector. She acted very confidently: she didn't dig around, she didn't read the inscriptions, it seemed like it was her stuff, and she knew exactly where it was.

After that, Taer retrieved a pack of wet wipes from somewhere on the table and began to wipe herself very thoroughly and slowly: fingers, palms, hands, arms, neck, and face.

When she was done with that, she tossed the used tissues into her own bag and took the infoblock, and walked practically to the center of the room.

"Projection. Mirror mode, size, full-length." The girl said in a commanding tone, placing the infoblock on the floor in front of her, and the shining canvas of the holo screen flashed above it, almost instantly turning into a mirror surface.

"Eyes..." Taer sighed unhappily, walking over to the mirror. She had the tone of a man who, after a long search, had just found his glasses on his forehead.

Her eyes were still unnaturally dilated and unmoving.

She brought her hand up to her face, and holding her index finger directly in front of her right eye, began to move her finger closer and farther away as if trying to catch a focus. Then she did the same with her left eye and clenched her eyes tightly shut. When Taer opened her eyes again, they looked perfectly natural: alive and moving.

After that, she began to examine her own face very meticulously, turning her head slightly to one side or the other and sometimes covering one half of it with the palm of her hand. This went on for quite a long time, about two minutes until she finally took a couple of steps away from the mirror with a sad sigh.

Standing a little farther away, she looked at herself from head to toe, turned one side, then the other. She gathered her hair into a ponytail, tossed it over her shoulder, then lifted it up as if she were wearing it up high. She spun around and looked over her shoulder at herself from behind, paying close attention to her own booty.

Taer was twirling in front of the mirror in typical feminine fashion, but Alex had a feeling it was something completely different:

I was exactly the same way I viewed myself in the mirror when I found myself in Lord Cassard's body.

She stopped twirling, and taking a couple more steps away from the mirror, walked in front of it, scrutinizing her reflection. Her gait, demeanor, facial expression, even her eyes - suddenly changed: she looked so sweet, direct, and literally radiated happiness. It seemed as if she was a freshman student who had just fallen in love.

Taer reached the mirror and stopped in front of it, looking at herself, the happy smile gone from her face, replaced by an indifferent calm:

"You so huge... sister." Taer sighed disapprovingly as she continued to look at herself in the mirror.

She stepped away from the mirror again and walked again. But this time, in a completely different way: she seemed even a little older than she really was, looking more serious, more majestic, looking with a challenge and some intrigue, but most importantly, her gait. Confident, plastic, feminine, and at the same time powerful. And it wasn't about sexuality per se. Alex caught himself that he was rather mesmerized by the way her hips and shoulders moved. It was impossible to take his eyes off Taer. If such a gait could be obtained by killing, they would kill for it without hesitation.

She stopped in front of the mirror again, examining herself with a slight smile.

It's like trying on a dress," Alex thought, Except it's Taer who's trying on.

Soon Taer stopped fiddling with the mirror and turned it off, picking up the infoblock from the floor. She picked up her bag and glanced around the room, her eyes focused on the camera, and she stared at it thoughtfully for a while as if deciding how best to proceed:

"I'll consider it a favor." Taer finally said, smiling directly into the lens. "So you'll be owed. Just a little." She winked slyly and slung her bag on her shoulder and walked out into the hallway.

The recording ended there.

"Did anyone else see it?" Alex asked after a pause.

"Twice Captain Dirav." Dudo replied. It was his group that found the records.

Alex grimaced. Dirav was among the scouts, which meant he could leak everything to the intelligence in general and to Countess Durlurl in particular. But what can you do about it if you have half the guards snitching to Daim Este and the other half to Kayrin?

There was nothing he could do about it right now:

"Okay. This record must exist in a single copy. Copying or showing it to anyone is on my order. At least for now. There are no other copies?"

"No, Your Lordship," Dudo replied, staring at the point in front of him, his gaze glazing over and making it seem to Alex that his "left arm" was only nominally present.

"And by the way." He pointed his finger at the infoblock Dudo was holding. "Is there anything important on this infoblock? I'd like to borrow it. I'd review it again."

"No, Your Lordship."

"Listen." Alex exhaled tiredly, casting Dudo a pained look. "Stop with the 'No, Your Lordship' thing. It's sickening enough, and you're like a dead man. Come back to life. What do you think?"

"I think Daim Diltar was a hidden adept, probably a Seer or Life adept. Probably worked for House Intelligence. That would explain the bomb in her head, both secrecy and a safety net in case she lost her stability. That's why she had such a meteoric career. It's not clear why she was transferred to your hand, but maybe Countess Durlurl knew something about the assassination attempts beforehand."

No, Alex shook his head mentally. It's just that Countess Durlurl knew that Lord Cassard was actually a telepath. But he didn't say anything aloud, just nodded in agreement.

"The kidnappers, assuming that Daim Taer had an artificial allergy or some other defense against the Lima serum, used a different drug." Dudo continued his report. "Perhaps her behavior is a side effect of that substance. Although, I think that scene with the finger and all that... Maybe Daim Taer did it on purpose."

"Well, definitely not an accident." Alex hummed. "I got the feeling she was enjoying the process."

"I mean, your lordship, that her behavior was the result of cold calculation, not an emotional reaction." Cautiously Dudo explained. "We've had some training in interrogation techniques, including forced interrogation."

"You mean torture?"

"Yes..." he nodded uncertainly, "With every minute counting, there may be no other option."

"I got it."

The blockade is a common occurrence. Immediately after the war in the imperial forces, there was a practice to install it in all senior command staff. It relieves pain very well and really helps to cope with fear and panic. But the mechanism of its operation has specifics. "Blockade" is a small artificial gland unfolding under the cerebellum. It reacts to stress factors in the blood and secretes a strong anesthetic, which is why the effect of pain suppression is not instantaneous. The substance it secretes has a depressing effect on the parts of the cortex responsible for emotions, making emotional reactions slower and less vivid.

"Then a person with a blockage is pretty pointless to torture, no?" Alex asked, not really understanding what Dudo was getting at.

"It's more complicated." He shrugged. "First of all, the gland can be simply exhausted, but it takes a long time, dozens of hours. Second, there are special drugs that suppress it, but you need to know the specific type of blockade. Third, you can try to overload it. That's probably what Daim Taer was doing. Stress factors are present, and it releases suppressants. It can overdose to the point of over-rationality.

"A sense of duty is not rational?" Alex guessed.

"It depends on the person and the situation, but in general, yes, your lordship." Dudo nodded.

"Sounds reasonable. So you think Taer was of sound mind."

"You don't believe that, Your Lordship?"

"I talked to her. It was just another person. Maybe not completely. Taer tried to warn me she was being controlled by a guider, but another personality was acting."

"I've heard that there's a risk of insanity when a skill is induced," Dudo said cautiously. "The substance used in the interrogation of Daim Taer could have had some effect."

"She seemed remarkably normal." Alex objected, taking the infoblock from Dudo and restarting the recording again. "Normal, but different."

"Then why did she attack you?" He asked, clearly having long ago guessed what had really happened.

"I tried to stop her." Alex shrugged, not wanting to go into details about how exactly he wanted to stop her. "By the way, did you check to see if any of her stuff was missing? She said she came by to pick something up."

"Yes, your lordship. We're missing one set of dress uniforms and one infoblock."

"Isn't that the little silver-cased one?"

"Exactly."

"Any luck finding out what might have been in there?" Alex asked without much hope.

"Yes." To his surprise, Dudo nodded. "Master Operator Talariv said that Daim Diltar used to record her dreams and nightmares in it."

Dreams? What could be important about them? Or more correctly, what was there that she wanted to hide?

"Maybe we should warn someone," Dudo suggested without certainty.

"What are we going to tell them? Has the First Blade of Cassard gone mad?" Alex sighed unhappily. "You can't replay something like this anymore. I don't want to expose Taer any more than she exposes herself. At least not yet. As long as there's hope that it's curable. Although..."

He wondered for a bit what could be done because doing nothing was not an option either:

"Alert the House Services that Daim Diltar is on medical leave." Alex finally said after a few minutes of thought. "I'll announce it to the 'Arm' myself so that they won't take any orders from her until I order her out of leave. Something like that can be done without arousing too much suspicion, right?"

"Could work." Dudo hummed thoughtfully, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "I'll just have to think of a better way to phrase it."

"All right, think about it. And I want an analysis of that stuff they pumped into Taer. Preferably not publicly. Find some lab. By the way, contact the Office. I've owned a lot of medical companies. Maybe there's something in the capital. And you need the best specialist on these "guiders" which can be for money in the capital during the day."

"I understand, your lordship, it will be done."

"All right, Dudo, we'll work something out and get her back alive and well."

"And yes," Alex remembered when Dudo was already in the doorway. "I need an analytical droid with external communication, only one that can be reset. And you're on your way to check it out. I don't want your head to explode all of a sudden."

Dudo left, and Alex watched the footage for quite some time until he caught himself rewatching Taer sauntering in front of the mirror over and over again.

* * *