A rectangular room colored white. It wasn’t big, being only a few meters in length. Along the walls hung stuffed animals on wooden hooks, their dead, gloomy eyes staring into the air. Nothing else was in this room.
Except for the man lying in the middle. He was silent, lying on his side in a fetal position. He was probably sleeping, his chest heaving with each breath.
Soon he opened his eyes and took a look around. His mind was calm and silent. He didn’t think nor speak.
With a careful, controlled movement he rose to his feet and his face started to turn into an expression of bewilderment. He didn’t know where he was or who he was. His previously silent mind began to grind into the old gears, thought processes speeding up, and his adrenaline beginning to flow.
Then he felt it. Eyes, gazing fixed on him. Someone was watching him silence but there wasn’t anyone else in the room with him. Unless it was the stuffed animals looking at him… the thought sending shivers down his spine.
He didn’t want to look at them, but forced himself anyway, feeling that it was better than to just stand there and do nothing. Somehow he managed to look at one of the animals, despite trembling in uncertainty. His mind was a distorted ocean of feelings and thoughts.
Cold eyes stared back at him but the animal was really dead. There was no sign of life in those eyes, only darkness. He shook his head at his own paranoia and uttered a sigh. It was then that he noticed that he couldn’t speak. His eyes widened in panic and he tried again.
No sound, not even a slight noise from his lungs trying to produce a voice. The only thing he could hear was his own breathing through his nose. No matter how hard he tried there came no sound.
Slowly he put his hand over where his mouth should be. He pressed his fingers against the area and closed his eyes in relief when he found his mouth still there. He let a deep breath out through his nose, since his mouth still refused to open, and returned his attention to the animals again.
Only they weren’t animals this time. The scream of fear he tried to utter couldn’t come out and he fell on his butt as his legs gave away. Multiple set of eyes observed him in amusement. Tiny smiles wriggled in anticipation on the human heads struck onto wooden spears protruding from the walls. Small streams of blood ran down from where their bodies were supposed to be.
The man stared at them locked in a state of panic. He couldn’t shout and he couldn’t flee nor fight. There was no exit from this room which he could escape through.
The white color of the room began to change. First it darkened, but then turned pink. After a few seconds it showed an evil bright red, its tone very similar to the blood running down from the heads. Mysteriously, the room was still laminated, its source of light unknown.
The man remained seated on the floor, eyes widened, the movement of his lungs growing faster and faster. He stared at the various heads in rapid succession until he placed his hands on his cheeks and rocked back and forth. He could only think, think about what was happening. He couldn’t do anything else.
“Aruk no makkala nor ni kur.”
Someone spoke for the first time since he had awakened in the room. He couldn’t recognize it, it was foreign to him. He had never heard such a language before.
“Ellek nor mik ni. Arom des ut.”
The voice was alien, much too alien for him. He couldn’t take it anymore; the voice was crushing his mind, distorting his thoughts. He couldn’t make any sense out of it.
“Aruk no makkala lik ni kor Hel. Vok ni arukamar.”
~~****~~
”Will he wake up? How long will it take?”
The young woman sat on a chair beside the hospital bed, holding the hand of her unconscious husband. The machine observing his pulse beeped with each heartbeat. It was erratic and fast, not normal.
“I honestly don’t know, Mrs. Jehan. The ECG shows an anomaly in his heart and the EEG shows he is in some sort of coma. We have never seen anything like this before. We want to say he is simply dreaming, but we can’t be sure. I’m sorry.”
“It’s OK, Doctor Janz. I know he will come back to me. I can feel it in my heart. He is strong, he will overcome it.”
Janz scratched his head at Mrs. Jehan’s strong optimism. He himself wasn’t so sure of what would become of Mr. Jehan lying there on the bed, seemingly lost in a distant land. What was going on in his head was a mystery. Science would need to look into this deeper; it was a good cause to investigate.
“Mrs. Jehan, I have to continue my round. You can stay here as long as you like and I will return later to check up on you. Now, if you would excuse me.”
“Thank you. I’ll of course remain here.”
When Doctor Janz had left, Mrs. Jehan returned her attention back to her husband and gripped his hand tighter. His face was calm and showed peace, a sharp contrast to his ECG that was still erratically writing out diagrams in the background. She didn’t know what was going in his head either. Hoping it was something happy, she refused to let her optimism waver.
“Aruk no mak…”
The sudden uttering of words made her stare at her husband in disbelief. She pressed the alert button as a reflex, calling the nurses.
“Honey! Darling, you are awake!” She grabbed his hand with both of hers and pressed, delighted at his awakening.
“Arom des u…”
“What? What are you saying, I don’t understand.”
His words were foreign, almost alien. She couldn’t make the smallest sense out of it. Two nurses arrived and started their procedure.
“Doctor Janz is on his way,” one of them assured her. She studied the ECG but her professional side didn’t let out even a slight hesitation or amazement at the numbers.
“Aruk no makkala lik ni or Hel. Vok ni arukamar.”
”What is he saying?” Mrs. Jehan asked one of the nurses. The nurse shook her head in response as she pulled out a drawer with needles and medication in it.
“He’s waking up?”
Doctor Janz appeared in the door opening and walked over to the bed. He checked the man’s eyes with a small flashlight but the blinking reflex remained dormant. Mr. Jehan was still comatose.
“Hel!”
“What? I don’t…”
“Aruk no makkala lik ni or Hel!”
Mr. Jehan began to shake and squirm in the bed. The two nurses held him down before he could hurt himself, or someone else, while Doctor Janz prepared a syringe with sedatives. As this scene played out, Mrs. Jehan was standing a few meters from the bed with her hands in front of her mouth. She was in shock watching her husband cringe from something she couldn’t stop.
“There, it’s done. You can let go of him now,” Janz said and took a step back.
The nurses released their grip and Mr. Jehan calmed down considerably. The sedative set in quickly and he eventually slumped down into his slumber again.
“I’m so sorry about that, Mrs. Jehan. We didn’t see that one coming,” Janz said.
The doctor scratched his head again and let the nurses take care of the wife. She was crying and shaking her head, unwilling to be comforted.
“What is going on in that head of yours?...” Janz muttered to Mr. Jehan and left the room.
~~****~~
Chief Master Sergeant Reinforce II sat at her tiny desk and let her small fingers fly over the keyboard. She was writing a report detailing the successful ‘capture’ of the mysterious man and girl that had taken place yesterday. Pelican 3, the transport helicopter assigned to pick the fugitives up, had been under her command during the apprehending and she had been on it when they flew back to base. Both of the suspects were seated furthest in with expressionless faces surrounded by guards, while Sigrid was separated from them and placed beside Rein.
The atmosphere had been quiet and full of suspicious stares. Rein, who hadn’t spoken with Sigrid before, tried to question her about various things but Sigrid refused to respond. She had been staring out of the window next to her, watching the rain rush by in the sky while being seemingly lost in thought. Rein had studied her face; an odd combination of worry and happiness showing through. The Chief Master Sergeant had decided not to ask anymore questions after that.
When Pelican 3 touched down on the top of the TSAB building, the trio was escorted away under an armed escort, their steps heavy and their silence preserved. That was the last she saw of them since.
“Uwawa, I hope they don’t go too hard on them. I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding.”
“Don’t worry, the interrogations are over now.”
“Ah, good to hear- wah! Hayate, when did you get back?”
Hayate hung off her coat at the door and giggled.
“Right now, but you looked so busy I didn’t want to disturb you.”
She walked over to her desk and accessed the computer panel. Its familiar silver frame and transparent window popped up with a low electronic ping. Rein puffed up her cheeks and faked annoyance.
“They are free to go and they will stay at Sigrid’s place. It has all been arranged,” Hayate said as the silence grew too uncomfortable.
“Ah, I’m glad to hear it turned out fine. I didn’t want them to get into trouble.”
“They might have come out of the interrogation fine, but they still have trouble. Thanks to her little venture I had to set up an additional surveillance team so she and her sister are now constantly under a pair of eyes. We can’t lose track of them again.”
“Sister?” Rein asked, eyes widened in surprise.
“Yes. It seems the girl we caught is Sigrid’s sister. We don’t know anything more than that however,” Hayate said.
Rein pondered for a moment before speaking again.
“What about the man that came with them?”
“He’s also under surveillance. An associate of theirs it seems. Unless they claw their eyes out after some time, that’s how things are for now until we get something else worked out,” Hayate said and typed something on the keyboard. “However, there has been some talk about integrating them into the military structure. We might force them to conduct the usual tests and give them suitable positions.”
“Is that the only alternative?” Rein asked after a moment’s pause.
“Sadly, at this time it is. We still have no idea what’s going on and they cannot return to their homeplanet. Even so, if we can get in contact with that planet we would be able to explore their culture, internal structure and map their system for archiving. Another spot uncovered in this universe. Taking good care of those three and putting them to work is a good alternative if you think about it.”
“Maybe,” Rein said uncertainly. “This doesn’t sound like you.”
Hayate stopped typing and turned towards her.
“I know, but I can’t do anything. My hands are tied; it’s out of my reach. I’ll be lucky if I’m given command over them should the higher-ups decide to go with this decision,” she said and uttered a sigh. She turned back to the panel and continued typing.
“Let’s just wait it out for now. I’ve said my part to the officer in charge, but I’ll doubt they will listen after this ordeal.”
“I’m with you on any decision you choose Hayate, as always.”
“Thanks Rein.”
~~****~~
People from Cancri call it a ‘Gift’. For people that live on Mid-Childa it’s more commonly known as a Linker Core, the sole mechanic inside a human’s body that enables her to use magic. In some it’s too weak, unable to produce anything to affect their everyday lives with.
Others can feel it inside them, being able to create small spells that might possibly earn them a sense of respect. It isn’t much, but it is what differentiates an ordinary human from a mage.
Then there is the real mages. Their Linker Cores are strong and healthy, enabling them to train in combat and cast devastating spells. Years of experience can create a deadly mage, a soldier part of a greater goal.
Towards the end, there are the elite. Some can fly, some cannot, but what sets them apart is their expertise in what they do. They are to be feared on the battlefield, possessing knowledge and colossal powers way beyond others. They are few, but strong. Their Linker Cores are the best of the best.
These ‘classes’ are what most people in scientific or military establishment study when it comes to Linker Cores. It’s an intricate part of a mage’s life and is crucial as to how they arrive at their position. They are well explored and have a huge documentation following them through years of research. On some points people differ, but they are largely convinced about the Linker cores’ true nature.
However, there is one type of Linker Core that’s different from the rest. It has never been experienced or seen at this point in history. The only thing that speaks of its existence is an old document dated way back through the millennium.
The place where it was created and the author that wrote it is unknown, as the document is only marked with an eight in a circle at the bottom. What significance this eight holds is a topic many historians have pondered about. The document has been viewed time and time again, researched through millions of databases and yet it has yielded few results. Historians and other scientific researchers are now placed in a queue to take a look at this document.
It was last reported being transferred onto a cargo ship heading for the southern capital city Cranagan, to the facility known as the Infinite Library. There it will be handed over to its new researcher, the archaeologist Yuuno Scrya for a two month period.
The contents of the document are written in an ancient script belonging to a now extinct civilization. It has been theorized it might have been created by a scientist living in Alhazred but the theory has been debunked several times by other historians. However, the language that the document is built upon is very similar to that of Alhazred, so a few researchers still stick on to this line of thought.
Regardless of the arguments, the document exists and tells about the missing ‘class’ of Linker Cores. While the previously mentioned ‘classes’ don’t really have names, to avoid confusing terms and the like, the document actually gives this type of Linker Core one; Eridian.
Eridian class Linker Cores are, according to the few translated parts of the document, highly dangerous, very strong and of a spreading nature. What this means is uncertain, but it can possibly mean that it spreads throughout a mage’s body as time passes and depending on how much the mage decides to use it. It also appears to give various health conditions, but the details of that have yet to be translated.
The latest part that has been translated has details about the various powers an Eridian Linker Core provides. Psychological effects, intrusion of the mind and mental abilities are some of the powers it gives to its user. The side-effect of using them however, comes at the cost of its user’s own mental stability and health.
~~**** ~~
6 months ago, Northern Beskanti, Cancri.
Explosions broke the silence over the town Theord. The resistance had finally hit the opposing forces head-on and the impact was immense. Tanks rolled on the streets, their tracks clattering forward, and infantry equipped with intelligent devices and regular weaponry rushed from building to building to get a better aim on their enemies. Walls blew up and the sky turned dark thanks to all the smoke and fire plaguing the city.
Amongst it all was Ragnar, hiding under a small bridge in the middle of the town. Water tainted with a faint touch of red ran past his boots, continuing past him to meet the river a few miles west. The stench below street-level was atrocious but he held out. He had to, as tanks and infantry passed overhead.
“Goddamn irony, that’s what it is. Here I am, in the middle of a war looking for someone and forced to hide from my own allies,” he said to himself quietly. The bridge above him shook again when another SL8 tank rolled across. He could feel the power of its magic-fueled engine, its weight stressing the bridge’s support. The SL8 type of tanks was feared on the battlefield for being extremely devastating and resilient, especially in night operations. They could change their camouflage in a few minutes thanks to illusion magic and they preferred black during the night. In other words; an invisible massive monster lurking in the landscape, ready to strike on unprepared enemies and not something he would gladly go up against.
Ragnar risked a glance upwards along one of the bridge’s support beams and caught a glance of a soldier leaning with his back over the railing. He was carrying a standard army rifle, the MK56 sub-machine gun. It was designed to be handled with ease but still retain its killing power, which has proven its worth many times in combat. Before Ragnar lost his right hand and replaced it with the intelligent device Rykatin, the MK56 had been his rifle of choice.
He flinched at the sudden memory of losing it bubbling up from his mind and forcefully banished it with a frown. He couldn’t afford to lose his concentration at such a time.
The tanks and infantry moving overhead eventually left the bridge and continued up the street. Ragnar took the chance and dashed out from his hiding place. His target was a ladder about ten meters to his left. The pavement beneath his feet was slippery from the water flowing by and he nearly lost his footing a few times, but managed to get there fast enough. Before climbing he took another look around his area, and when nothing living presented itself, he heaved himself up.
On street level the scene was not much different from that where which he had been forced to hide. Ruins populated his proximity, riddled with bullet holes and SL8 rounds. Cartridges lay sprawled out on the ground and a few bodies littered around. He approached one of them and checked for a dogtag.
There was none, but judging from the clothing the person who wore it was a Southern Beskanti soldier. The silver coat and the mandatory logo of their army was enough evidence of that matter. The body’s eyes were closed and its face revealed a youngster’s smooth skin.
“Hell, you were young weren’t you? Another child soldier I’ll bet. Fucking…”
He walked over to the other body with careful steps. This one was missing its coat but the dogtag was still there. The head had almost been completely blown away and there were remains of brain matter and a big pool of blood beside it.
“Hmm… A T5 grenade I think, that would produce a similar result to this. Now let’s see what your name was…” he said and smudged the blood on the dogtag with his fingers to see what was engraved on it.
“Private Ertmund Halkar, thirty, Northern Beskanti Ground Forces. I’ll take this if you don’t mind. Someone might want it.”
He put the dogtag in his pocket and continued. His objective was not far off and he could soon claim the information he so sought for. If only they wouldn’t resist…
An abandoned supermarket was the next obstacle. Its logotype, reading out as ‘ShopDrop’, hung onto the few metal wires that was left on the building’s roof and some power cables running on the side of it. No sparks came out of them however. The power had probably been cut off some time during the night, leaving everything in darkness after the sun had set. The morning sun that now shone on Ragnar’s face lit the area up again and revealed the destruction done from the day before.
He moved over a few shopping carts blocking his way and strode through a glass window that had been crushed to pieces. Making sure he didn’t cut himself, he managed to get inside to survey the mess.
“´Once inside, turn left and to your right there should be a door`…”
He navigated his way through, walking past a few signs displaying extra price cuts on beef and some damaged plushies lying on the floor. There was always a possibility that there were booby traps, but judging from the total chaos and how untouched by a human’s fingers everything looked, Ragnar held onto the godly luck that had followed him throughout the years and strode on.
Turning another corner he came upon a door to his right, just as his informant had told him. The words ‘Personnel Only’ were printed upon it and there was a small speck of blood by the handle. A smell of rot leaked from the keyhole and Ragnar wrinkled his nose in disgust.
This is going to be gross, he thought. He pressed down the handle and opened the door carefully. Its hinges groaned from not being properly oiled in a long time and broke the silence in the supermarket.
The smell suddenly grew unbearable and he had to back away. The sight disgusted him; he even surprised himself by the reaction, human instinct telling him to back away.
A struggle had apparently taken place inside the room. A table had been flipped on its side, coffee mugs lay crushed on the floor and there were holes in the walls at several places. The smell that had leaked out came from two bodies sprawled over the floor. Maggots and flies crawled over them, having found a dinner table full of delicious intestines and decomposing meat.
Ragnar stepped into the room and tried to examine the two bodies close-up. The one that was nearest to him was on its back with a face full of terror and agony. The body was male and he had probably not died quickly as suggested by his wounds. Long straight cuts covered his sides, going deep into his flesh. Death by bloodloss, Ragnar concluded, but the empty hole gaping from the stomach seemed to be made afterwards. There was not much blood around the hole itself so the bloodflow had probably stopped before it had been cut open. Why someone would do that in the first place, Ragnar didn’t know and he refrained from thinking too much about it.
He checked for a dogtag again but didn’t find any. The body didn’t have a coat either so determining the body’s identity was hard. Instead, Ragnar turned his attention to the other body which was hunched up against the wall, as if it had tried to stand after being knocked down.
He walked over to it, while making sure he didn’t slip on the strange fluid littering the floor. It wasn’t blood but something else without a smell.
“What was her name again… Oh yeah.”
The second body was female and she still had her coat on. It was blue, a Northern Beskanti soldier again, further evident by the lion logo on the left breast pocket. The coat was shredded at the breast area, revealing her chest. Ribs poked out as if she had exploded from the inside, meat pieces and intestines showing off its gruesome nature. Her dogtag was also there, hanging from her neck, entangled in her dirty hair. Ragnar stretched his arms forward with care, got a hold of it and snatched it away from the corpse. To his surprise her head bent forward and promptly fell off, hitting the floor with a soft bounce. Maggots crawled out from her throat as if a floodgate had been opened.
He stared at the lifeless sockets looking at him with an endless patience. He felt it was hard to take his eyes away from it but slowly returned his attention to the dogtag he held in his hand.
“Corporal Mary Estek… I never thought you were part of this scheme,” he said and stood up. “Although I do wonder who did all this…”
A sudden noise behind him made him flinch and he narrowly managed to avoid a knife thrown from behind. It latched itself deep into the wall and showed off its wooden handle with a lion logo printed on it. Ragnar spun around to face his attacker.
“Ragnar Illiante, I never thought I would see you again,” Ronald Trick said and laughed. “How long has it been, five years?”
“Ronald! What the hell are you doing here? I thought you got re-positioned in Command.”
“I was. For a while. But you see, I got an offer I just couldn’t turn down.”
Ragnar felt something was about to happen. The air between them was strained and Ronald seemed agitated.
“An offer?” Ragnar asked, feigning interest to keep the conversation going. “What could that have been?”
“Power and wealth. Two things I seek and require. I just had to do a little thing for them.”
“`Them´? And who might that be?”
Ronald waved his hand dismissively and twisted his mouth into that lecherous smile of his.
“I can’t tell you everything, Ragnar. What fun would it be if you don’t figure stuff out for yourself?” He looked Ragnar up and down before speaking again.
“Although I guess I could tell you something. I think that’s why you are here.”
Ragnar let a small amount of worry flash on his face at the mention of his objective.
“What are you talking about? How do you know about it?”
“I got connections, Ragnar, much like you do. I hear a little here and there. You are after a noble aren’t you? A girl.”
Fucking…
“And so? What else do you know about it?” Ragnar said.
Ronald laughed again and put on his gloves. They were black with white stripes across, a symbol for something. They fit well together with Ronald’s blue coat that did its best to hide his form.
“Everything. Of course, there is no use telling you if you are dead.”
The blow caught him unaware and hit Ragnar in the stomach. In a split-second Ronald had crossed the tiny room and was upon him, slugging him with his fists. Ragnar had forgotten how fast his opponent had been back in those days, even rivaling his own. However, Ronald was not fast enough. He had never been.
Ragnar took more hits, his stomach and sides suffering from the punishment. Sharp pain began to crawl under his skin as his concentration grew deeper.
“Hey! Come on, this is too easy! You were always one to-“
Ronald’s improvised speech was cut off abruptly as a kick right below his stomach connected and made him stumble backwards in pain. It missed his most sensitive area but the pain and sudden immobility caused by the impact was harsh enough.
Ragnar stood up with his left hand’s palm open in front of him while he held back Rykatin by his side. Its powerfield picked up speed until it began to make a constant screeching noise.
“A device, huh?” Ronald managed to say while trying to regain his balance. “Why didn’t I notice that huge claw where your hand is supposed to be…”
“Probably because it has illusion magic containing it. Your fault for being uninformed,” Ragnar smirked. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”
Ronald grimaced with faint amusement and launched himself forward again. This time Ragnar was prepared for it and dodged to his left, right into the embrace of Ronald. The fist that had come at him was diverted by Ragnar’s left hand and barely stroke his head.
Ronald couldn’t defend when he was so close. Rykatin flared before his eyes and cleaved through his right shoulder. Muscles and nerves were cut as the sharp blades strode through the flesh and the fabric of the strengthened coat Ronald was wearing. Ragnar pulled it back before Ronald had time to react, spun around and inserted Rykatin in the other shoulder, repeating the task. Ronald gasped from the pain coming so suddenly and fell backwards propelled by the opposing force. He slid off Rykatin’s sharp blades, still embedded into his shoulder, and fell to the ground.
“You bastard,” he managed to say before his face contorted into rage and pain. He tried desperately to get up but his arms weren’t working anymore. The precision with which Ragnar had hit had disabled his arms completely.
“Everything… was it? Tell me about it.”
Ragnar walked up to him and placed as his boot on Ronald’s heaving stomach. Rykatin’s powerfield deactivated and the room fell silent. Alkajen, Ragnar’s other intelligent device, was pulled out from its holster and set to aim at Ronald’s right foot. The wood handle and old styled metal ornament gave the gun a nostalgic appearance.
“Better to live another day, I guess, than to give in here,” Ronald said and sighed. “I’m working for the Enzyme, they are the ones responsible for the kidnapping of that noble of yours.”
“You are sure quick to talk,” Ragnar said but then shook his head when he realized something. “Well, not strange since you have such a fine traitorous nature.”
“Heh. Well, I don’t see a point in dying here. Besides, I got what I came for. I did my part of their deal. I just failed this last task.”
“Killing me, eh?” Ragnar asked, smiling with a sense of superiority oozing from within.
“Yes. Now they will think I’m dead and I can go into hiding. The revolution is coming, Ragnar. Be prepared for it. I sure will, I got it all covered from now on.”
“Sounds like this was all part of a little scheme of yours…”
Ronald chuckled.
“Don’t think I let you win this fight though. Not a chance,” he said and grinned.
Ragnar let his boot off Ronald’s stomach and holstered Alkajen.
“Don’t let me see your face ever again after this. Disappear and if I see you again you are dead,” he said and put a foot out of the door, ready to leave with the organization’s name hovering in front of his mind’s eye.
“Hey Ragnar, by the way,” Ronald said as he thought of something, “why do you stay under that broad’s command? She’s a noble just like the rest. A pathetic, egoistic creature made to control us. Join the revolution, Ragnar. Help them get rid of leeches like that. I’ve outplayed my role, now it’s time for yours.”
Ragnar hadn’t taken another step since Ronald had begun to talk. He unhooked something from his belt and studied it in his hands.
“Just as I would let you go. Ronald, I knew that big mouth of yours would always come back and bite you in the ass some time.”
He flicked his hand. A T5 grenade flew out from its grasp and rolled across the floor. It stopped just beside Roland, who now had a frozen expression in his face, following the grenade’s path with panicked eyes. Its beep was slow to begin with but grew increasingly louder and faster.
Ragnar walked out of the room and across the market floor. Screams for help or forgiveness echoed through the building but he ignored it. The voice of a man that had insulted him to a phenomenal degree was not worth listening to, former friend or not.
The following explosion lifted a small part of the supermarket’s roof and pushed the walls outwards. The ‘ShopDrop’ building collapsed under its own weights as the support gave away and produced a thick cloud of dust that hovered over the area. Its logotype was crushed under the weight and only a ruin, exactly like the other collapsed buildings around it, remained.
A few blocks away, a Northern Beskanti K8-Command vehicle picked the noise up but didn’t care to investigate. It was just another explosion among many that day. The officer in charge sipped on his disgusting field coffee and continued to search for hostiles to report.
~~****~~
Doctor Janz cut the connection and leaned back in his office chair. It was late afternoon and most of the personnel at the hospital had already left for home. Only a few remained, those scheduled for the nightshift, but he wasn’t one of them. The reason he was still there at all was because of the call he had just finished with Doctor Shamal, a medical specialist in the employment of the TSAB.
He had never received a call from them before, so when he first answered his brain first didn’t know what to say. He stuttered his name until he had calmed down and managed to introduce himself properly. Doctor Shamal had been very patient with him and kept her cheerful attitude, which he found calming. Something back in his mind told him he knew her from somewhere before.
The reason she had called was because of one of his patients, Mr. Jehan. Apparently, someone in the TSAB had sniffed him out and reported the circumstances to a superior. Therefore Doctor Shamal had been assigned to check it out since it fell inside her jurisdiction as a medical examiner. That was the explanation she had given him anyway. After that she had asked him standard questions regarding the patient, such as his mental state, heart rhythm and brain activity.
He had answered her without making a fuss or asking questions of what it all meant to her. Why they had contacted him, an ordinary doctor working at a public hospital, he couldn’t figure out.
After thanking him for his time, Doctor Shamal hung off with a warm goodbye. He sighed and wondered what could possibly be of interest to the military when it concerned a man in a coma that might never wake up. Mr. Jehan’s condition had not changed still then, his wife still waiting by his side, and no one in the hospital could find out what was wrong with him. Doctor Janz then played with the idea that perhaps the TSAB had a clue as to what was going on or whether they knew someone else that could help. After all, they had connections…
2009-07-13, 09:29
Author
What I was trying to say was that I would like to know exactly what it is you need before I say yes or no.
The rest of the family are all-blue eyed.
And then it turns out it was all just another weird dream of Tomoyo's...
