I knocked on the door, and Doctor Forsolano called us in. I opened it and led the child inside.
“Ah, Pontopa,” the doctor said “Twice in one day. What can I do for you this afternoon?”
I didn’t hesitate to get to the point. “Doctor, you know that checkup we talked about for Taka? I think we need to do it much sooner than I’d thought.”
Doctor Forsolano smiled, and then when he noticed the boy’s eyes, his expression changed to one of concern. “This redness isn’t from tears,” he said, and he walked forward to examine the skin around Taka’s eyes.
Taka flinched a little, but otherwise kept still.
“We caught him with a drug in a vial,” I explained. “It looked like secicao oil, but it had something else floating inside it. Taka’s been taking it for a while, and we need to check he’s okay. Faso, Winda, and their scientists are running tests on the drug as I speak.”
“I understand. Taka, if you would please lie down over there.” The doctor pointed to the smaller bed, which had a white cloth lain over it.
But Taka didn’t move at first until I stared daggers at him. If anything, he knew he didn’t want to be angering his Auntie Pontopa, so he complied.
Once the child was in place, Doctor Forsolano rummaged around in a cupboard under his desk, and took out a needle, a set of electrocardiogram sensors, and various other medical equipment. He took off Taka’s shirt, attached the contacts to the boy’s chest and then stuck the needle in Taka’s arm.
Taka’s blood filled the ampoule – black as coal. I gasped.
“Exalmpora? Taka?”
“Travast told me it isn’t Exalmpora,” the boy replied.
Doctor Forsolano raised an eyebrow to me. “Who’s Travast?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But I intend to find out.”
Doctor Forsolano plugged the other end of the electrocardiogram equipment into a steam-powered plotter. He turned it on and put some coal in the burner underneath. After he’d lit it up, the machine whirred away. A long stream of paper passed through a roller, whilst several needles plotted out several thin and sinuous lines on it, bobbing up and down in a steady rhythmic pattern.
“Everything seems normal,” Doctor Forsolano said. “Except for the fact your heart is beating at two-hundred beats per minute. Even if you’re only young, that’s abnormal for a resting state.”
But the increased rate did make a lot of sense. In most cases, depending on the blend, secicao oil would cause the blood to pump faster. This often caused increased anxiety in those that used it.
“We must take him off the drug, immediately,” I said.
“Not so fast,” Doctor Forsolano said. “Remember what I told you before about weaning yourself—” He stopped himself just before he broke patient confidentiality about the cyagora. “I… er.... need to run some tests.”
He took out the needle, detached the ampoule of blood, and carried this back to his desk. He then selected a few small brown bottles out of the cupboard behind him, as well as several empty petri dishes. These he placed on the desk and proceeded to distribute a few globules of Taka’s blackened blood into each dish. He added drops of the various liquids to each sample. In one, nothing happened. Another turned red, another green, another transparent. In the last one, the blood glowed ever so faintly.
“This one,” Doctor Forsolano picked up that very petri dish and squinted at it. “I’ve seen nothing like it. Taka, where did you get this drug from?”
Again, the boy said nothing.
“Taka, answer the man for wellies’ sake. He has your best interest at heart.”
The boy huffed and then turned to the doctor. “I got it from Travast Indorm.”
“Ah, so you mean the king’s scientist?” Doctor Forsolano asked.
“Yes,” Taka said. “The king’s scientist.” Taka hadn’t told me he knew this man. But at this point in time, I didn’t think I’d get much information out of him.
I turned to Doctor Forsolano instead. “You know him?”
“I’ve heard his name. He used to serve under the king around the time Faso Gordoni became famous. He worked as a basic lab scientist, just there to perform basic tests and hand reports up to his superiors. Faso might know of him.”
“He didn’t seem to,” I said. He would have mentioned something otherwise.
Doctor Forsolano scratched his chin. “Perhaps he doesn’t remember him,” he said. “But I heard rumours that after Faso left, Mr Indorm rose up the ranks fast.”
Come to think of it, the three old men that I’d met in the cave inside the Pinnatu crater had mentioned that an eminent scientist was now among the king’s ranks.
“Can we cut him off the drug immediately?” I asked.
Doctor Forsolano shook his head. “I wouldn’t recommend it. From the blood test and my examinations, it’s clear the drug has a strong impact on his physiology. If we stopped it just like that, the effects would be unpredictable.”
“Then we need to find out where this man is sourcing the stuff from and what his intentions are.”
“I think so. But I don’t understand” – Doctor Forsolano glanced over at Taka – “how did Travast Indorm get past our guards?”
“Somehow, a Hummingbird automaton got through,” I said. “But it would have needed someone controlling it for it to sneak past the guards so well.”
Doctor Forsolano cocked his head. “You think he’s nearby?”
“It’s possible. We should probably send out scouts looking for him.”
And out of the corner of my eye I saw Taka grimace. Whoever Travast Indorm was, the boy didn’t seem to like the implication that we’d need to take the man hostage.
“I don’t like the sound of this,” Doctor Forsolano said.
“Neither do I,” I replied. “Neither do I.”
Doctor Forsolano continued to run tests on Taka, and after we’d finished, I dismissed the boy and sent him to his room. I waited for him to leave, and then I thanked Doctor Forsolano and walked out the door.
After we’d closed Taka in his room and I’d posted some guards outside, I went to find Faso. I had a bone to pick with him, and it wasn’t only about how he’d evidently programmed the automatons to target me during the training exercise before.
All this time, he’d promised to spend more time with his son, instead of endlessly tinkering with his machines. If he’d occasionally diverted attention away from his pet project – his dragon automaton and made sure that Taka got the care he needed, maybe none of this would have happened.
But somehow, he just seemed to expect that my parents and I should assume parental duties, while he focused on his ‘work’.
As usual, I found him crouched down in the courtyard, applying some changes to the dragon automaton that he had set up in one corner. He was focusing on a hatch on the dragon’s neck where he’d probably later insert a power core.
The machine had come on quite a way, admittedly, since Faso had started working on it. It wasn’t quite the size of Velos, but roughly the size of a Grey. And it looked even more complex than Velos’ armour, with all its fancy plates and greebles. I couldn’t help but wonder if any of this served any functional purpose, or if Faso had just designed it that way to make it look impressive.
I took a deep breath, not quite appreciating the eggy smell of secicao on the air. I approached Faso, kicking up some dust on the way, and stood over him with my hands on my hips. I waited for him to acknowledge me but, much like Velos, he showed no sign of even realising I was there.
So I interrupted him with a loud cough. “Faso,” I said. “A word, please. I’ve not been impressed with your behaviour recently.”
Faso looked up at me disdainfully, but he otherwise didn’t budge. “Nothing new there. When are you ever happy with me, Pontopa?”
“On those rare moments when you’re actually showing respect for other people and you’re not solely concerned about yourself.”
That caused Faso to put down
his screwdriver, stand up on his two feet, and look me straight in the eye. Ratter ran out of the flared sleeve on his pinstripe suit and took a perch on Faso’s shoulder. It glared at me with those red menacing glowing eyes.
“I have you know,” Faso said, “that everything I do has a selfless objective. I work for the advancement of science, so that we may win the war against King Cini or Alsie Fioreletta, whichever one we’ll end up fighting first. It’s only a matter of time until one of them attacks, you know, and we can’t be sitting on idle thumbs.”
I shook my head. “That’s not all of it, admit it. You don’t want to have to deal with people. Especially your son. You’re always shirking off your own responsibility onto other people’s shoulders.”
He puffed out his cheeks. “That’s not true at all. I do care about people and I reserve a suitable hour for Taka every day. But I need time to focus on my work, or it will never get done.”
“An hour a day? A boy should have more time with his father than that.”
“I’ve offered to spend more time with him, so long as he works with me on the automatons, but he doesn’t seem to want to.”
“He’s not interested in the automatons, Faso. He wants to forge his own path, and it’s your responsibility to help him find a good one. Now, because of you neglecting him, he’s had to go and find entertainment of his own.”
“Oh, so that’s what all this is about. And next you’re going to say that it’s my fault that Taka ended up taking those drugs. Dragonheats, he’s almost a teenager, and he’ll end up doing things like this, no matter how much you try to stop him.”
“And so you just accept that and refuse to keep an eye on him? That’s the point of parenting, you’re meant to help him learn what’s good for him and what’s bad for him.”
“But you’re saying all this, Pontopa, while being rather hypocritical yourself. You’re his guardian too. And if you hadn’t been sleeping all the time, then maybe you would have noticed him wondering off where he shouldn’t on your watch. Isn’t that meant to be your job? Guarding the castle and looking out for everyone here…”
“No,” I said. “I can’t keep my eye on everyone at once. He’s your son, for wellies’ sake, Faso. By blood…”
And I tried not to let the heavy guilt sink down that I’d been spending half the day sleeping. This was one of the side effects of the cyagora. If Faso knew, then maybe he would understand, being a man of science himself. But there was no way I would tell him. There was no way he’d believe that a mad empress was living in my head, and he’d deem me just as bad as Taka – addicted to a drug I shouldn’t be taking.
Of course, it wasn’t that clear-cut.
“Just admit it,” I said. “You’re addicted to your work, and you can’t put it down. That’s why you slave for twelve hours a day and hardly have time to at least read Taka a bedtime story.”
“Oh, he’s a little too old for bedtime stories, don’t you think? He’s now in his exploring phase.” Faso turned up his nose. “Of course, you wouldn’t know about that, being a woman.”
“And you would know. You know better than anyone, being Faso Gordoni, inventor extraordinaire.” I mirrored the exact same voice he’d used when he met me, at the time trying to impress me with empty shenanigans.
Faso paused for a moment, and his face went red. Then he got timid all of a sudden. You kind of knew when you hurt this man’s feelings – he was incredibly sensitive underneath it all, despite seeming so bull-headed.
“Look, I don’t know what this is about,” he said after a moment, “but you seem to be having another one of your mood swings. You don’t seem to realise how important my work is. Once we finish this dragon, then we might have something that can oust Alsie’s dragonmen in battle. And what about you… While I’m here slaving away, what are you doing all day? Addicted to work? You seem to be addicted to doing nothing. Why aren’t you spending time with Taka?”
I put my hands on my hips. “I spend a few hours training with him every day.”
“Doing what? Knitting jumpers while he takes swigs of that drug behind your back?”
I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. “That was uncalled for, Faso.”
“And you criticising my parenting methods wasn’t? Just let me get back to my work.”
“Faso, you listen to me.” I pointed a finger at his chest.
Faso scowled. “You’re just getting annoying now, Pontopa. I should get Ratter to sedate you, that would shut you up.”
“Do that and you’ll spend a week in the cells.”
Faso chuckled to himself. “What difference would it make, anyway? You’ll probably be asleep in a couple of hours.” He turned back to the dragon automaton, crouched down, and continued to focus on screwing the hatch in place.
I waited for a while, wanting to say something else. But nothing came of value. If I walked over to thump him, his automaton would probably turn on me. It was there to be Faso’s bodyguard after all. And, as I waited, it glared back with those red infernal eyes.
“This isn’t over, Faso,” I said.
And I stormed off into Fortress Gerhaun’s corridors. But I had to stop at the first corner to break into tears. And this wasn’t so much because Faso had hurt me. But more, because this was the first time in a long time I’d felt anything at all.
But it didn’t last long…
Soon enough the emptiness sank back into my chest and I could cry no more.
4
When she arrived in Fortress Gerhaun, and for a while after, my mother had found herself unoccupied, much to her frustration. To combat this, she’d set up a tearoom for the troops and inhabitants of the fortress. Secicao – or at least the type you get served in cups – was banned here for good reasons.
It would be hypocritical for Gerhaun to write books about how the stuff was destroying the planet and then allow its consumption within her fortress’ very walls. But even so, everyone missed having a warm drink, and the tea reminded them of the secicao they used to drink from their home countries. So my mother acquired as many varieties of tea as possible and started serving it strained out in delicate china cups.
I entered through the double doors of the refurbished canteen, and took a deep breath of the heady aroma, clearing my lungs somewhat. This was one of the few places in Fortress Gerhaun you could escape from the stench of the secicao clouds, and perhaps the only place where it would be replaced by a pleasant smell.
Mamo had set up several round teak tables at the door-side corner of the room. She stood behind the bar, cleaning its surface with a soft cloth. A few troops in olive-coloured uniforms sat around one of the tables. They were playing cards and one of them smoked a cigar, adding an extra homely scent to the room.
Papo, my father, sat at another table reading a magazine.
“Oh, Pontopa, dear,” My mother said as she saw me come in. “I haven’t seen you at all today. How are you?”
I shrugged. “Same as always. Bored out of my mind.”
She lifted the hatch on the bar and walked over to me. “Why don’t you take Velos out flying? I hear he’s not had a chance to stretch his wings for a while.”
“Oh, he goes out by himself without needing me.”
Mamo’s expression changed to one of alarm. “Whatever’s the matter, dear? I remember the days in the Five Hamlets, that you would take any opportunity you could to fly him out in the open. What happened to those?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said. I hadn’t yet told them about my medication, and fortunately Doctor Forsolano respected patient confidentiality well enough that they’d never find out from him. “Things are just a little different now.”
“Whatever it is, you know you can talk, right? We’re here to help.”
“I know”, I said. And I reached out so my mother could give me a hug.
I held it a moment, appreciating the warmth. Then I broke it off. “Come on, let’s sit down. We have a little to catch up on… It’s been a whole d
ay.” There was a certain lack of enthusiasm behind my words, I have to admit.
But still, my mother laughed – probably not so much because of the joke but how dryly I’d delivered it. “It’s good that we didn’t end up getting stuck back in the Five Hamlets while you were grounded here. You know, our old home was beautiful and all that, but I must say, I’m starting to prefer this place.”
I raised an eyebrow... “Really?”
“It’s about the people. They’re much friendlier here. In the Five Hamlets, the folks had too much money. And well, although we had Mayor Sandorini and a few other good men and women. I just found most a little stuck up. But here, I guess everyone just feels a little more human…”
Part of me felt I should smile at that comment. But the emotion didn’t come, and I didn’t want to fake it.
“Go on,” my mother said. “Take a seat and keep your father company. I’ll bring some tea over.”
I nodded and then I sauntered over to where my father sat at the table and pulled up a seat.
“Why hello, Pontopa,” Papo looked up from his magazine. “Fancy seeing you here.”
I shrugged. “It’s not like I have much else to do.”
Papo smiled. “Plenty of magazines to read here. You know, life has been so much easier since I got hold of the Tow Observer. It’s important to keep up with what’s going on in your homeland, don’t you think?”
The Tow Observer was one the major publications in my home country of Tow. Highly censored by King Cini, of course.
Back home, Papo would read it from cover to cover every day. But after the move, he had to put up with the Fortress Digest, a smaller magazine which told of the going-ons in Fortress Gerhaun. And in all honesty, with so little happening here, it was hard to fill a whole paper with decent news.
But fortunately, for Papo, our good friend and merchant trader, Candalmo Segora, had established a trading route between Tow and the Southlands. He wouldn’t smuggle anything that could get him into trouble. But he could bring a copy or two of the Tow Observer and supplies of dried tea leaves.
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