[dr. m]
Dr. M half-stumbled into the Gaia Fleet headquarters looking and feeling like utter crap. For thirty-six hours he'd been forced to butt heads with that insufferable git Rambaldi on the new Quasimatrix Generator Drives and the argument had finally ended only when Dr. Zakharov convinced Director Atrell-Ptarmigan that the project should rightfully be transferred from Science to Engineering.
Doubtless Rambaldi was still fuming about it. The man hated having his authority undermined, or even vaguely questioned. Never mind the fact that he was not the ranking Science officer in the building. He was at least three ranks behind M as far as seniority went.
In retaliation for the betrayal Rambaldi had temporarily banned all Engineering personnel from the research lab. Dr. M afforded himself some amusement at that tactic. See how long the lab remained habitable when Engineering withheld their cleaning robots and turned off the air conditioning because the AC ducts belonged to engineering and so did the air inside them.
Sometimes it was really a blessing to be able to get away from the bulk of the Fleet. So long as Gaia remained restricted there was little chance of any work or arguments following. Those who did have clearance were an agreeable lot: himself, Hamada, Cabrizzio, Yulia, Pavel... Well, perhaps calling Antipov agreeable was a stretch, but he was the one in charge and he had taken are only to authorize those individuals he could get along with on a daily basis.
Rubbing at his eyes M pondered heading for his office, but his secret side mission was still rolling around in the back of his mind. He chose a compromise and headed for the receptionist desk. Waving his hand through the air* to make sure the seat was truly unoccupied, M sat and draped himself over the desk's faux wood surface. It was quite cool against his cheek.
It was with a certain sick officiousness that he was interrupted, then, by a small throat clearing itself; by an adult feien fingering the jewel he had given her around her throat, having been thinking deep thoughts (read: beauty napping) on the other side of the room - alighting down quite close to his elbow.
"Excusin' myself," said Burgundia Lukas-Hein, who could start a fight in an empty room if the empty room mentioned the word 'religion'. "Doctor, I surely do need an audience with you. Some office time, if you please."
M looked up bleakly, his glasses slightly crooked on his face. It seemed to take him impossibly long to process those words. He sort of half-croaked as he did. Then, finally, "Not my office."
"I'm not particular about the office," Burgundia said, a little impatiently: it came out p'ticklar, and her entire being was pregnant with a certain preference to be talking with, say, Djerod. "We can do it here if you like. Just a couple minutes of your time, if it's not inconvenient."
With a sigh, M adjusted his glasses so Burgundia appeared less like a reflection in a fun house mirror. "Sure." He propped his head up on his elbows and looked down at her. From the feien's perspective, it was a little like peering up at some giant stone idol. Not the sort of thing Burgundia was in the habit of.
And it made her flustered from the start. Eventually, not knowing quite where to look, she sat down and gathered her habitual piece of dark fabric around her shoulders; after a little fussing, she got comfortable, and cleared her throat again.
"I'm here for Rose and myself," she began. "Sort of as an official thing, me being her representative; I'd like to get in contact with the summoner Corvus."
M blinked, twice, not that Burgundia noticed with his glasses in the way. "Hya, Corvus?" He swallowed. "What would you want that for?"
Not exactly what he was hoping for with respect to his secret mission, but maybe this could lead somewhere.
"Why, I really couldn't divulge Rose's reasons," said Burgundia prissily, who had no real idea what they were. "And it might be pure and simple curiosity on my part, you know; I've never met a summoner. If you must know, Doctor, I need him for - "
Wisdom gained from growth stopped her from saying what could prompt an argument again, and she merely finished, - "private feminine reasons."
That took a long moment, not because M had any trouble getting his sleepy mind to work out the word meanings, but because those meanings made no sense to him. He lifted his chin from his hands and furrowed his brow. Finally he slouched and exhaled rather loudly, "Whaat??" His expression was incredulous.
Burgundia, for all her latent femininity, had never learned wiles. However, she dredged up whatever wile she had in her, scraping the bottom of the barrel, and her voice took on a distinctly pleading tone. "Doctor, it's secret and my own; you wouldn't like it if I told you - won't you please tell me how I can get through to him? As an especial favour to me, Doctor?" Last ace. "Rose said she'd make you a cake." (Carob, all natural, gluten-free, but M didn't know that.)
M shook his head and flopped back in the chair, rubbing at his temples. "What... What, what... That doesn't make any sense. Feien have no gender."
Apparently, he wasn't going to let this secret slip by very easily, if at all.
Burgundia gave up, wholly and fully. "He identifies as a male. Gender as a purely biological definition has no place with feien and we should be going with Butler theory and - anyway; and he's going to help me find God if I have to strangle it out of him and Rose wants him besides, so if you please, Doctor."
Dr. M let out a little anguished groan. Already he was getting a headache, or he'd forgotten to fill up one of his nutrient systems, or this feien was fracking nutso. Maybe all three. He shook his head. "Why Corvus? Unh, not Luun?" There was that other summoner, she was female. But she was also dead and M could not remember if he had ever been told her name. Little good she would do Burgundia. He took a deep, settling breath and waited expectantly.
Apparently, he hadn't quite got around to processing the whole God bit, else he would surely have made comment on that.
"Corvus," Burgundia insisted mildly, though inwardly relieved that he had actually made comment on it. "Or Yanvir neither; or Julius, who's gone missing, and not Luun - please, Doctor, can you help me?"
That train of reasoning, thought Dr. M, didn't even make any sense. He shook his head. "Whatever you expect Corvus to give you, I can almost promise you he won't. He's not in the habit of giving people things." "Rose wants him," Burgundia said, as though that explained everything. "I don't care if he denies me a thousand times; just please let me see him, Doctor. I don't care if he's - the biggest jerk in the universe." (Which by all accounts he was.)
"Rose wants him," Burgundia said, as though that explained everything. "I don't care if he denies me a thousand times; just please let me see him, Doctor. I don't care if he's - the biggest jerk in the universe." (Which by all accounts he was.)
At that, M smiled faintly, which was almost never a good sign. "Well, that would depend what universe he's in at the moment. Unfortunately, there's really no telling where Mr. Corvus has gone and I'm far too busy to track him down. Unless, of course, you could do something useful for me." The smile broadened into a toothy grin. No, definitely not a good sign.
Burgundia laced her fingers together. The grin was not only so not a good sign, but it was kind of creepy. It might give small children nightmares.
"So long as it's not anything immoral," she eventually said, prissier than ever. "What d'you need me to do?"
Dr. M had to consider his next words very carefully, because to be too blunt would jeopardize his mission, but to be too subtle would render the whole thing pointless. The smile left his face and he fell into silence, tapping his index fingers together as he calculated.
That just served to make Burgundia nervy. Her hands settled in her lap and she stared down at the blotter, waiting for him to speak, feeling like a child and loathing the sensation. However, she didn't choke; she simply waited, the silence lengthening between them. The worst he could do was ask her to eat a kitten.
With Dr. M, such a request was always a very real possiblity, but today he was not so out of it as to suggest it. "You would tell me if there were any feien missing, wouldn't you? It's just... after the Fleet took over there were some feien we were unable to account for."
She was pleasantly surprised; for one thing, there was no kitten-eating. "Well, everyone knows that Julius has gone, don't they? I can't think of any others; of course there are feien who people haven't seen in a long while, if you listen to the talk, but they might have just gone away with their bondmates."
"Oh?" said M, suddenly leaning in very close so his face became an entire reality for Burgundia. "Away where?" His tone was unpleasant. It was less like he was asking her a simple question and more like she was being interrogated. And Dr. M had a rather vicious reputation in the Fleet where interrogations were concerned.
His reputation was indeed vicious; just about as vicious as Burgundia's reputation for being a gruesome and prosy bore, which she wore as some kind of shield. In response, she just blinked slowly, like a sleepy cat. "On the outskirts of Gaia? Away from the shop? They might have not had Fleet sympathies."
Without warning Dr. M's palm slammed down against the table, so hard the table shook and the bang reverbrated to the farthest corners of the offices. "Then find them!" Dr. M yelled at Burgundia, unbearably loud from a feien perspective and all the more terrifying because under normal circumstances Dr. M was somewhat softspoken; Burgundia had not even known he was capable of producing such force with his voice.
It rang through Burgundia's head as though she'd been next to a churchbell when it was rung; she actually had to clap her hands over her ears and wait for the buzzing to die down before she could think properly. She jumped; she was startled, shocked, and like any good Southern belle, appalled. But she was also frightened by the tone; living with Rose, you never had men raise their voices at you.
"And do what? What if they're security risks?" Her voice quavered, and she hated herself. "What if the feien are dead? You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink for love nor money! And I'll thank you for speaking to me in a gentlemanly fashion!" (This came out more a as a quick squeak.) "And you'd ask Rose to do that, too? You know she's running the house without the Director!"
"Yes, well, if you ever want to see him again you'd best start giving me information," said M so quickly he did not even have to pause and gasp. His frown at her insolence was positively chilling. The fact that he was potentially threatening Lord Piett was almost unfathomable.
"What?" It was Burgundia's turn in the conversation to nearly stammer, and not comprehend. "What? I - I spend most of my days devoted in prayer, Doctor! I don't know of damn well anybody who could give you that info! Maybe my dead brother, if you please! You've got one heck of a nerve askin' me that, when I'm Fleet stock. For all I know they got liquidated by Fleet operatives!"
Dr. M snorted derisively at her. "Don't you remember who was responsible for the 'accident' that killed more than a dozen Fleet feien? Don't think being in the Fleet gives you any sort of protection, not for one moment. And you forget, I'm with Intelligence. If anyone in the Fleet had killed feien on Gaia, I would hardly have to ask you to find out." This speech was so long Dr. M was wheezing rather badly by the end of it. He might have even continued speaking were it not for the necessity of catching his breath.
"You are headed directly to Hell." Burgundia had leapt to her feet, pale fists balled, the cloth around her shoulders falling forgotten to the receptionist's desk. She was frightened and angry. "Are you threatenin' me? Don't you dare threaten me, you lily-livered sunuva - the Director'll hear about this! He's a gentleman! Don't you send me to raise - I'm just glad it's you and me havin' this li'l conversation, and not you and Rose! You pig!"
"Why? Should I go ask Rose next?" He let that hang in the air, the last syllable acid off his tongue.
"You b*****d!" She was pink-cheeked now, absolutely furious and shaking at the implied threat. She was more frightened than ever. M carried all of Intelligence behind him, to her; and that was something to be scared of, as well as M himself."You a*****e! I hope Diana gets you! She is not a polite lady!"
Dr. M wished dearly he had access to some of his serums right now. This sort of work was always so much easier when you could pump the target full of drugs. Stupid dimensional interference regs. "Pray to any god you want, but you can give me what I'm asking for or watch the people you love die one by one."
It should have been set up in the rules of the HQ, like no running, jumping or dealing drugs; do not ask Dr. M for anything. Burgundia had unfortunately broken that cardinal rule.
For a moment she thought of Soho and Marne, and nearly crumbled. Her hands were shaking. It took a lot, especially as a Fleet feien, to shake away the threat of the Fleet. "You can't touch me," she said disdainfully, bluffing the whole thing. "You can't touch them. You can't - you can't - you know - you know there's no way for me to get that data! You're testing me!"
"Can't think of anyone to get it for you?" taunted Dr. M. But what sounded like a taunt was actually a suggestion, in a strange sort of borderline-violent interrogation way.
Bizarrely, it nearly worked; a strange expression came over her face as she mentally counted through who might be able to get it for her. Frankly, the only one who would do it wouldn't know much; the ones who wouldn't do it wouldn't do it; the others were amnesiacs, or dead, or missing. Those gone, nobody else came to mind. "No! I'm a servant of God, not an intel agent!"
"God has no servants, only slaves. Unless you want to find out exactly what that means, you'll have to think of some way to get me that information. I really expected better of a feien from the Fleet." Emphasis on the Fleet part. Big emphasis.
And that made her burn with shame, which made her hate herself - and him - even more. "And if I did? If I did this damned thing for you? You must think I'm dumb as a sack of hair - how do I know you'd hold up your end of the bargain, or that you'd even get me or Rose to Corvus? I hope you die, you godless wretch."
Dr. M honestly would have liked to reach out and give Burgundia a hefty shake, but he suspected even that would not cause the neurons in her brain to fire in the required pattern to draw the conclusion he was looking for, and if he tried to make it any clearer, well... that would raise the Security autofilter alarms, and those even Adomital would be unable to circumvent.
Rock and a hard place. M had to think fast. "If you can get me the information, or find someone who can, not only will I find out where Corvus has gone, I will personally bring him to you myself!" That was going to be a hard promise to keep, but M was growing desparate.
The feien was nearly crying in vexation and hate; for the first time, she rebelliously hated the Fleet and everything it stood for, simply because M was in it.
"I'll do it," Dee snapped. "But I ain't your - your stool pigeon; and I hate you and I'd be the first to piss on your grave if I had the goddamned equipment. But I'll do it."
Dr. M gnashed his teeth in annoyance. One last try and then he would retire to let things play out. As much as the process of interrogation invigorated him, the need to sleep was strengthening with each passing minute. "I don't care what people you find to look into this, just be sure it happens."
"Once I say somethin' will happen, it'll happen," Burgundia said, bringing new meaning to 'curt'. "Go ******** yourself." With no aplomb whatsoever, she stormed out.
"One mention of our little conversation to anyone and I will personally make sure that you learn firsthand the absolute worst that Corvus is capable of!" M shouted after her, but lacking in the force of his earlier threat simply because at this point, he was too worn down to manage anything louder.
In a giant rush, all of his strength left him and his collapsed back into his chair. That was one dense feien. And given that he'd used his chance on her, he was going to have to hope that she tried to recruit a feien with more mental acuity. He could not very well repeat that scene a second time. Not only was he uncertain that his strength would hold for that long again, Security would notice if he used the same line on two separate feien and someone might very well start to wonder why. There was only so much that he could protect against.
But he had to try. Dr. M slid down further and further in the chair until his eyes were level with the surface of the desk. Then, with a deep breath, he stood, the chair rolling back, and headed for his office. If nothing else he needed a nap, but on the off chance that feien came back with someone useful today, he wanted to be here.
His last thought before he disappeared into his office was that he really, really hoped trying her had not been a mistake. If it had, it could end up being the whole Fleet that paid.
