Yllera took the pause in the scans as an opportunity to dress. She unfolded the pants and held them against herself, they were far too long. She slipped into the shirt and buttoned it. The shirt came down to below the knees, perfect to use as a short dress. She took the woven belt from the pants and cinched it around her waist. The slippers were simple slip-ons with no enclosed heel; they were large but would suffice.
“Okay, ready to hear what I think is and has gone on with you?” Tina finally spoke again, “You have some free plague cells floating in your system. They don’t seem to be doing you any harm, probably because all of your cells contain DNA from the plague. I think the plague DNA has been what has suppressed all Agurian abilities because it is the interaction between the plague and shape shifting which kills,” Tina made a strange face and stared off into space for a moment, “Maybe the plague is somehow sentient, it may have decided the best way to keep the host alive was to prevent shape shifting. Now somehow enough changes have been made in you that it’s possible again.”
Yllera suddenly wondered about Max, how had he gotten involved in this? She tried to run through ways to ask in her head. In the end Yllera shrugged and gestured towards the door, trying to hold an inquisitive facial expression.
“You want to leave?” Tina whimpered, “I’m figuring out the workings of a disease which ravaged the whole of Agurian kind and you want to just walk out? Sorry missy even if I weren’t burning with curiosity, I wouldn’t want to just let you loose until after I have you in observation for a few days. After all you turned into a puddle not too long ago, I want to make sure you aren’t just rushing off to do it again!”
Yllera shook her head emphatically no. Then in a flash of inspiration she held up three fingers. She pointed at the first then at herself, the second and at Tina, the third and the door.
Tina cocked her head to the side, “Max? You want to know about Max. Well, he was the one who brought you in. Tatia said he appeared out of nowhere, argued that it couldn’t be Agurian plague then disappeared with you saying he was bringing you here. He fought the shields and managed to get you here despite the fact that it shouldn’t have been possible. He and I have taken turns keeping a continuous eye on you since, which if you’d like to know has been about a week. Actually, some of the time I caught him with his eyes closed, but you can’t really begrudge the guy a few winks.”
Yllera absorbed the information and rolled it around in her mind, wondering how she felt about it. Was Max following her now? There was no way she was poaching in his territory this time. And why was he holding vigil over her cocoon? She was starting to feel more than a little anger towards his proprietary concern.
Tina stepped out of the room and came back with Max. “Hi, Yllera,” were the first words out of his mouth, “Tina says you can’t speak. Which from the look on your face is probably a good thing. I want you to know that I wasn’t following you or anything I just sensed you were in trouble and was there before I really meant to be. I’m glad I was, and I’m glad you survived so I could tell you I’ve become a factor,” Max paused, “That is something I want to thank you for, because I know I can do a lot more good here than back where I was.”
Yllera softened her expression, and nodded at him, after all he had gotten her back here. Even though she knew now she had to get back to where she was, this was probably the safer place to be so helpless. Now all she had to do was convince Tina and anybody else that wanted to argue, that she needed to get back to the Agurians.
- - - - - - - - - -
Angela finished piling her office furniture in the center of the room. Then she draped a large plastic drop-cloth over it. She had already covered the floor and taped the edges of the drops to the base board so the carpet wouldn’t get any paint on it. She could probably teleport any paint screw ups away with less effort than she had gone to, but that wasn’t why Angela had decided to paint her office. The joy in it for her would be in doing it the hard way.
She smiled at her morning’s work. Finally, Angela could start painting. Angela hoisted one can of paint to the covered edge of her desk and began prying at the lid, another job which might be easier with telekinesis, but no. She would muscle her way through this. Off popped the lid flipping over and landing paint side down on the drop cloth, revealing the electric blue paint she had picked.
Getting the paint had been a quest in itself. She could have gone to the supply chief and gotten paint but questions would have been asked and she would have found her office painted before she could even get paint out of anyone. So, knowing that, Angela had made an excursion to the universe outside of Sanctuary. Angela found a hardware store and after a pleasant and helpful amount of small talk, Angela had an armload of paint and painting supplies, not to mention an earful of helpful advice on how to apply her purchases. No doubt the salesperson had convinced her to buy more gadgets than she really needed, but even that had been fun.
Angela lifted the lid, peeling away the tarp and brought it towards her nose. It smelled like paint, and brought back the summer she had done volunteer work painting over graffiti. That had been long ago, in her childhood, before her metamorphosis made her fully briaunti, before her mother disappeared, before so very much had happened. Angela stuck a finger into the paint and wiped it on her cheek like one of her childhood friends had done that summer. Angela realized she hadn’t thought of that friend in a long time, she couldn’t even remember her name. Angela impulsively drew another line of blue on her face and it became war paint. She would wrestle herself into submission until she could bring up just one memory without depressing herself. She wiped the finger off on her pants. This was supposed to be fun!
Dipping paintbrush into can, Angela decided to paint. She slathered angular slashes like mountains onto one wall and made a smiling sun rise over them. Then she painted trees like cotton balls growing from toothpicks. She made stick figure deer eating scribbled grass. Angela painted the outlines of big fluffy clouds. Then she haphazardly flung droplets of paint from her brush as rain.
Crying cathartically, Angela put down the brush and poured paint into a roller pan. She rolled the long handled roller in the pan and began covering her silly line drawings with a heavy coat of paint. She rolled paint up onto the ceiling and over to the far wall. She remembered the salesperson’s suggestions and knew she was doing it all wrong. It was fun. Paint dripped from the stripe across the ceiling and the room looked like a group of kindergartners had attacked, but boy was it fun.
A knock erupted from the door. Angela felt like a naughty child caught in the act. She didn’t want to open it. It was for the chief. Angela wanted no part of it. Her hands found a place to lean the roller and she walked to the door. “What do you want?” Angela asked imagining herself a troll trying to frighten off little children.
A muted mumble rumbled through the door, “You said you wanted to be informed when Yllera awoke. Tina just called and said she is awake.”
“Okay,” Angela chirped back.
“Chief, should I tell Tina you’re on your way?”
Angela flippantly mumbled, “The Chief is out. Please leave a message after the beep. Beep.”
Again the mumble, “I’m sorry I didn’t catch that!”
“Never-mind!” Angela shouted teleporting the paint off of her and finally stepping close enough to the door to activate the auto-opener. “I’ll tell her when I get there.”
“Shouldn’t I let her know you’re on the way?” The woman asked glancing past Angela to the chaos. Angela could see the woman forming the intention to call in a proper painting crew. So much for the fun of doing it herself. Angela could order the woman to leave it alone, but there wasn’t much point. Someone somehow would decide to do the >grunt-work’ for her.
“No, don’t bother. Telling her won’t change the fact I’m coming and it wouldn’t help me get there any faster. Hopefully it won’t change what she’s doing either,” Angela said heading for the exit.
“Aren’t you going
to teleport?” The woman seemed worried about Angela. Finally someone was.
“I’d rather walk, I need my exercise, besides Tina called to say the girl was awake. That means she’s alive. So, there is time,” Angela answered. The woman followed her down the hall. They passed the communications center and pattern recognition, eyes were on them the whole time. Angela thought about it, it wouldn’t be a relaxing walk, everyone knew her face. They would feel the need to question her the entire way. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to hurry.”
Angela picked up her pace finally losing the woman who had delivered the message. She wasn’t running exactly but she had put on a bit of a rush. Yllera was an important personage, possibly a portent of the revival of the old Agurian race. Eyes still followed Angela when she walked past windows. What was the purpose of having windows in a hallway which was buried in the core of a big rock? Stupid question, of course it was so everyone could see The Chief racing through the halls to an importantly unimportant task.
Angela knew what those faces had to be asking themselves, AIf she was in a hurry why didn’t she just teleport?” Angela found the thought funny. She didn’t teleport for the same reason she had spent the morning preparing to paint her office. She was two hairs away from a breakdown and paddling against the current as hard as she could.
Angela finally made it to the door to room 52. She paused to straighten her clothes and check for paint splatters. The image of a crack team of wall painters attacking her office tap-danced through her head and she shoved it aside. Time to be chief, time to offer encouragement to the troops, time to walk through that door.
Angela froze, she couldn’t make her hand move, she couldn’t make her heart stop pounding, the world was spinning out of her control and there wasn’t a drop of spin built into Sanctuary. She needed something to hold onto, but even the heavy stone walls felt insubstantial. Why couldn’t Miranda have taken over? The woman was no doubt gifted, after all she was Angela’s first cousin. Her first, first-cousin. Inside Angela tittered with laughter, outside her fingernails were trying to dig into the stone wall. She thought of the tin star Ben had given her. She didn’t know where it was, but that didn’t stop it from appearing in her empty hand. It barely weighted a thing, and it twinkled when she flipped it through the air and caught it. It was light yet more substantial than the wall. It meant something. It held hope in the very molecules of its being.
Angela pocketed it and rubbed her fingers over the word sheriff. She could do this, even if Yllera was a grotesque mutant. Angela could do this. She stepped forward and the door slid open, Chief time.
Tina and Max were conversing with what looked to be a young teenage girl. The cocoon was gone but the smell of it lingered. Angela fingered the star and crossed the room to join them at the exam table.
The girl was first to notice Angela, but she said nothing. The other two followed the girl’s gaze towards Angela. “Chief, let me reintroduce Yllera,” Tina said excitedly, “She can’t talk so I’ll say hello for her.”
The girl nodded towards Angela, and Angela saw something of Yllera behind her eyes. “I read lips if that helps?” Angela replied.
Yllera’s eyes opened wide and Angela saw relief stretch across her face. Then silently her mouth began moving. “Chief, am I speaking slowly enough?” Angela nodded, “Good, I need to go back to Jelaria! There is so much I could learn about myself from them and they would in turn be more likely to ally themselves with us. I cannot explain why I must go more fully than that I just know I must!” A few emphatic grunts were the only sounds to pass through Yllera’s lips but Angela could judge the depth of urgency from them.
Angela nodded to Yllera and looked to Tina, “How long do you need to keep her to make sure she is past the crisis?”
“I’d need a week or two, a couple months would be better,” Tina answered.
Angela glanced at Yllera, the urgency had doubled, the girl-woman couldn’t bear a couple of months. “Tina, is there anything you could do to help if a problem arose?”
“No, not really, but this could happen to other Agurians and the more I understand about it the more help I can be in future.” Tina said more decisively, realizing Yllera had made a case for leaving.
“Compromise time, Yllera you’ll wear a monitor so Tina can have her readings. Tina you have five days to determine her stability. Unless a major problem comes up, Yllera you go back in one week,” Angela proclaimed.
Tina was definitely not happy with the result, but Yllera showed more satisfaction. At least one person was happy. Angela left on that note, taking a different route to her office, through the halls. Yllera’s situation brought to mind the overall trouble of communication. No one in Angela’s sphere of responsibility had more than begun to see Angela’s troubles. She needed people with better communication skills, who might be better at picking things up.
Angela plucked her pop-pad from her pocket, and keyed for Niri. Niri’s smiling face quickly greeted her, “Hey chief, what can I do for you?”
Angela paused, why had she gotten so good at starting actions before clear plans had formed. Angela couldn’t tell Niri that she didn’t know why she was calling, “Niri, I want you to include a broadened communications module. I want new factors to come out of training able to communicate without words, and I don’t mean telepathically. Give me people who know sign language, can read body language or read lips. Give me more options.”
Niri nodded slowly, “Okay chief, I think I can do that.”
- - - - - - - - - -
Chapter 10
Once More into the Breeches
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Annette juggled her borrowed canvas shopping bags. It might have been easier to actually shop with the girls. The trouble was that she hadn’t in her memory had enough resources to make random impulse purchases. That wasn’t to say she had gone without what she needed, just that sometimes she couldn’t get everything she wanted. Growing up, her foster mother had helped Annette sort her priorities, sometimes getting the >in’ shoes meant a standard book bag. The rule had always been shop twice buy once. Basically Annette was used checking out all of the shops and making a list of what she wanted then dividing out her allotment of choices by priority.
The girls had laughed at the idea yesterday. They were used to the higher student allotment, Annette still wasn’t sure what her allotment could get her. Still, this morning they had all offered their individual shopping bags for Annette to use, thus the juggling. Eight bags, because to have refused one might have been taken as an insult by the owner, and Annette didn’t want to alienate any of her tentative friends.
Last night Annette had taken stock of what she had. With her room she had been issued; two pairs of tennis shoes, seven sets of undergarments, one nightshirt, one swimsuit, and five jumpsuits all in one shade of purple or another, then there were five pairs of white socks. Annette could envision prisoners at a maximum security facility receiving the same. That thought was what had decided her on the shopping trip, and how she had come to understand the girl’s shock at the scarcity of her wardrobe. The girls had been wearing color coded jumpsuits for a year already.
Annette finally gave up on juggling shopping bags and folded all but one of them and stuffed them into the unfolded one. Her first shopping priority was shoes. The standard issue ones weren’t the most supportive or comfortable, and Annette knew well that good shoes were a good idea. A major splurge point she was going for was steel toed arch support shoes. The better protected her feet, the more >surprises’ she could endure. Socks were next on her list, good ones would hold back blister formation, during endurance training.
Annette knew just the booth to find her footwear. She had good socks and a custom fitting pair of boots, in less time than the girls had spent ogling the sandals. Annette almost left the shoe shop at that but a cute pair of sandals caught her eye. They were black leather strap sandals and she did need something dressy so they joined the boots. The shop k
eeper wrapped up her purchases and helped her bag them, without questioning the matter of if her allotment was sufficient.
The next shop on her list was a shop specializing in embellished jeans, the kind with decorative patches and embroidery. Annette knew they were a fad thing but she wanted at least one cool pair, besides if she ever got assigned to the 1960's she would already have wardrobe. Annette tried on a pair covered in psychedelic flowers from the calf down with a peace sign on the hip pocket, they didn’t fit and Annette put them back.
“You like them?” The salesgirl was quick to ask.
Annette looked up from the rack, there were several other people shopping and she wasn’t used to salespeople being interested in her. “Yeah, I guess, but they don’t fit. I’ll find another pair.”
The salesgirl grabbed the jeans from the rack and stepped over to the register, “One moment,” she ran the bar code, “I can get you a custom pair if you like them. I can have them sent to your quarters.”
Annette cringed, she’d already gotten the custom boots, she wasn’t sure how many custom items she could afford on her allotment. “I don’t know if I can afford them.” The salesgirl chuckled and passed a pad to Annette, the pad showed a level five allotment, something reserved for primary factors and above, way more than a student should have. “That has to be a mistake.”
The salesgirl paused and tapped at the pad, “No, it notes as having been requested by head of factor training, and it is clearly authorized by the Chief herself. So would you like the pants?”
Annette nodded with a dry mouth.
“I know just the perfect shirt to go with them.” The salesgirl stepped up to a rack of tie died t-shirts selecting one with a flower on the front and a peace sign on the back, it was way too small, “Just imagine it the right size, wouldn’t they look good together? I’d get the outfit if I had your allotment!”
Sanctuary Falling Page 23
