Does it mean you have to throw your body off a building?

Father was fine, of course. Once I got him to the clinic, he was struck by inspiration. It seems odd, but I don’t share his passion for engineering. I left him to it and transitioned back to Steelhead. I had been awake for going on thirty hours, and needed to rest. One last patrol before sleeping, since I was still too wound up to sleep properly.

Everything was fine until I got to Shanghai. Finding a shopkeeper on the roof was not normal, but it did not look like he was preparing to jump. Still, I circled his building, letting him know I was there, and landed near him, careful of loose tiles.

“I should be doing something,” he said by way of greeting. Speaking in Russian, it took me a little bit to find the right language centers in my head. Bits of half-memories of folk-tales told by a woman’s voice helped me make the connection.

“Do you get any feelings other than that?” My pronunciation was not quite right, mostly because I had to be careful not to filter in the Romanian with it. “Anything I can do to help?”

Mr Danielovich shook his head, “Nothing specific... not even a place I should go walking... only that it is nearing the time...”

Going carefully, I tried to read his emotional aura. You have to be careful with empathic work, because someone who was borderline sensitive might be startled by the brush of something not physical. You might not even know they were sensitive until they began to have hysterics. Sitting on the edge of a roof, that would be bad. “You generally get told to go out wandering with this feeling?” I asked under the cover of a calm reassurance projection.

He shrugged, staring off into some middle distance. “You get to know when you need to be somewhere, right? Take a turn into an alley maybe one block sooner than you usually do, or go see the sights across the bay.” His focus sharpened, briefly, staring at the spot where Father's lab had been. He shivered in the warm breeze, and I remembered that he had gotten Mr Antfarm out of the wreckage. I could not remember if anyone mentioned Mr Danielovich being injured at all. Now, when I tried to pin down recollections of that time, my mind slithered away to Mr Antfarm’s treatment, Rengerin’s investigation, and anything else that was happening at the time.

“Huh, neat trick, that - being able to be there, just in time.” He had some good shields, so he was not radiating his emotional state like most humans do. It’s not that odd, finding someone shielded. Some people just grow them out of need in times of extreme adversity, and that seems to be something a lot of immigrants to our city have in their past. The ones that don’t shield tend to go mad, or drug themselves into a stupor. That reminded me I needed to check up on Dr Beck. AFTER I talked Mr Danielovich off the roof. “Does coming up here make the feeling stronger?”

He seemed to struggle with words, even though we were still talking in Russian. “It is... up, but not here, and not... now, only.... there is still the urgency....”

More soothing projections, “Would you like to try a higher altitude? I can give you a lift up higher...”

“Yes, please - this itching in my spine is becoming stronger.” He stood up, and I pulled on my grip gloves, while he got into position.

I had not noticed he was in the exact correct position for a wrist-grip pickup, and said, “Right - let’s get you into the air, Xavael.” A simple slip of the tongue, with monumental consequences. I do not know why I decided to test my theory at that moment... and at the time, I had not realized I had said the other’s name.

He stopped, becoming very still, and whispered something I did not catch. While I was hovering, waiting for him to get back on his mark, he turned to me, and said quietly, “I Remember.”

There was a light kindled in his eyes, and it swiftly grew to encompass him, and he repeated, as the wings unfolded from his back, “I Remember!” in a clear voice, no louder than we had been speaking, but it seemed to echo back from the rest of the city. The radiance grew bright enough my irises closed completely to save my retinas, and then suddenly, he was gone.

I hadn’t expected him to transform in front of me. I shakily landed on the roof, wondering what had been loosed in the world, and where the angel had gone. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep for a while.

Tumbling through the crises

The conference with the family was a bit shocking. There were more questions generated than answers to the older issues. Still, we have a course of investigation now, where before we only had educated guesses.

I filed my papers with Mother so that I could start canvassing the mountain district as part of the Health Brigade. As long as we were at it, I might as well make it official, and help on two fronts for the clan and Vater.

Making the transition back to Steelhead, I intended to check up on my charges there when the shock reached through the planes. Vlok het - Koen was transitioning forward? Was he mad? Well, yeah, okay - he IS a Mason, that goes with the territory, but whatever... I picked up Qli's distress signal, and marked the coordinates. I wasn't sure I could make it there without a boost, but I could arrange that in Steelhead.

Landing on the roof of the Consulate office building, I dug my key to the hatch out of my belt-pouch, when another wave hit me - Zaide? He was back? Wait, what in the name of the Seven Sciences did Father think he was doing?

Then another connection snapped into place and I had no thoughts other than getting to New Toulouse.

So much to do, so few hours.

I spiraled in over the lake, the late morning sun causing sparkles on the surface. My goal was the cabin he was building for himself. Very good work, for one who was near death not so long ago.

I landed, and took stock of the area. His horse was nowhere nearby, but it seemed the pair of them were together, possibly on a supply run.

[did you bring me anything?] the nudging purr at my ankle asked. I smiled and pulled the bundle from my waist pouch. Likely that the tomcat had scented it, prompting him to speak to me. The salmon had been caught fresh that morning, part of breakfast not eaten when I caught up with Papa on patrol.

The little cat growl-purred his way through his meal, and as he finished, I asked, [Any news, little cousin?]

He groomed his whiskers, [doctor was here, some builder-types. No urchins] he said, shaking his paw in distaste at mentioning them.

[Not all of them are as bad as the one I rescued you from.] That little git had gone to ground soon after, whether he was caught by Gloom or was just staying out of my sight, I did not care.

[Poor treatment, no proper offerings from the lot of them] he growled, and continued his post-meal grooming. [not much from him either] an ear-twitch toward the house said which him was meant [but he speaks well] The cat stopped grooming [he has nightmares, but they do not come from here]

I nodded, [He has many threads still hooked in him. Please watch out for him while I am gone?]

[you will bring fish] the cat stated. As he turned to sun himself on the step, he affirmed [will watch].

Patrols and Reports

Antfarm found this doctor without too much guidance. It's good for him to get back on his feet, even if he had to deal with the urchins. The students were just as curious, but ever since Wolfgang, they've been a little less anxious to investigate neighbors. The air in St Helen's will do him some good, and I can leave supplies at his camp when he is on his hikes. Far enough away that the children won't have time to pester him constantly, but close enough he can get into Shanghai to see Dr Beck, it's a good spot.

The trip to Caledon meant I could not patrol as often as I used to, so I have some catching up to do. That Gloom creature was new. The children, urchins or students, are at risk until we can put this one down. Dr Beck is trying to get some information from the remains of the one found. He has more experience in this kind of investigation... and he's having flashbacks in the middle of things. I don't know him well enough yet to help with those. I'll have to sound him out on non-traditional therapies.

The therapeutic regimen he set for himself is not going to do him any good in the long run. He hasn't taken any sever damages yet, and he's still healthy enough that I'm not worried yet. His mind is till mostly intact, and his neurological reactions are still solid enough to treat others. I still trust him more than Roundtree, because even with his ghosts, he's still trying to care for the slum-dwellers.

Mama also had problems with Shanghai, centered around something in the hotel. I went over her notes, and something has moved into Dragonlands since my last patrol there. I can see why she is weirded out by it. I am going to see what Greenie can make of it, because this should be safe enough territory.

Unfolding the Past, Wrapping the Present

Unfolding the Past, Wrapping the Present

That drizzly morning where I stormed into the sanitarium, seemingly for the first time in weeks, I was not in the mood to deal with polite guidelines of behavior. I'm not quite sure I remember everything I called Roundtree, but some of it was medically impossible (even for mad science) and I was kinda loud. The police had taken that nurse off to whatever they thought was safe, and Mack seemed fine with me not physically threatening the doctor. "What sort of hospital are you running where the staff can go off the deep end and you DON'T BLOODY WELL NOTICE?!?!"

He got huffy, and was about to bring out the I Am The Doctor voice, and I cut him off. "I do not give a damn what you think you were doing, I am taking him out of here before the rest of your staff decides he needs 'help'." Hayes pitched in, babbling about how he could not be moved, and the nurses murmuring it was all so unseemly, but they couldn't find Ward Sister Grace to tell me off.

About half my rage was an act. Yeah, I was angry, and it really was a shoddy way to treat them, but the main thing was keeping my wings mantled and the claws extended. I needed some physical space for the shields to work, here. I had a thread of a connection to Mr Antfarm, stepping his pain reactions off, and channeling the energy to boost his immune system, increase the healing of his wounds and give him some strength. I had enough of padding around the rules of maintaining the status quo of the local medical standards. They were doing less for him than we had been able to manage in Steelhead.

Sweeping the hospital for more energy sources, I started to get the residuals from Nurse Rain's activities from the day. It was worse than they thought. "...and where is your Ward Dragon? Where was she when all of this was happening?" The nurses that had been under Sister Grace began muttering. From their whispers, Sister Grace had not been in the dorm that night, and I knew from when I was hiding here that she never left the campus. No lover, no family to visit, her whole life was the hospital, and yet and Sister Grace was no-where on the grounds. I also knew, from the negative pool of energy in the basement, something was very wrong.

Mack looked like he was about to drop, but his day shift counterpart Daniel had just shown up, and they were having a hurried conference in the back of the crowd. They peeled off down the wards with about a half-dozen of the younger nurses and all but the two burliest of the orderlies. Those two were flanking Roundtree like goombahs backing a don as we argued back-and-forth about his medical qualifications.

About ten minutes later, a shriek went up from the basement, and soon after, Watchman Daniel pelted up the stairs. I was just able to pull my working shields in when he reached me and grabbed my wrist. I nearly pulled back and decked him, but he was radiating more concentration than fear. He turned my hand over, and inspected my talons, then he took a sniff of the back of my hand. "I di'n think so, but I had't be sure. We need you to stick around, jus' th' same."

Ignoring Roundtree's demands for information, I nodded, "I will stay in arm's reach of you while we wait for the police."

Hours later, the police cleared me, when they found the coal shovel, and the hand-prints in the blood that were smaller than mine. True, I am a shape-shifter, but the hands were also the size of Nurse Rain's. The Caledon investigator looked me over, and shook his head, "Na, you've not been in the basement, I think. I know how to contact you, Dr Belfire." That was a shock, as I hadn't even told my parents I had passed my boards. I had the oddest feeling he was taking my family history just by glancing over my clothes. The small pin on his lapel depicting an open book gave me a clue where he might be getting his information, but at least he was clearing me of the murders.

Yes, murders. They found two separate scenes of carnage, one in the laundry, and one in the boiler room. No bodies yet, though they were shutting down the boiler to see if anything was left. The hospital was short-staffed, and it seemed the staff was dwindling more with each new revelation.

In all of the confusion, we managed to get everyone clear of room fifteen, long enough for someone to dress and slip away. It was the least I could do for him, as the staff still would not release him to me. I still have the thread attached to him, so I can find him later when we get a doctor for him. Father is not available, and Vater is more of a neurosurgical specialist, so I hope I can drag Beck out of whatever memory-dampening stupor he's dug himself into this week.