When Others Are Losing Theirs

I've only been cleared for flight for a week, now. Seems I had some residual damage from the divine revelation, even with the instinctive actions from my eyes. Luckily, Wolfgang was able to let me link to his eyes well enough to get me off the pagoda. Mama says he's designing winged apparatus, now. Good thing I don't have to see to planes shift, she was pretty upset.

Great Uncle Ibiz grounded me until my vision came back to 20/1, but I was able to see well enough to walk in a few days, so I took some time to work on his project, interviewing the old aunties in the villages on the Dyne watershed. They were delighted to have someone to talk to them about the begets of the village. Not a lot of new information, but it all gets recorded, in case it is needed for another project.

I filed copies with the local census department, and headed back with copies for Vater. He's a lot better about sharing information if it is reciprocal. It took little time to drop them off with Vater's assistant. Typing them up took the most time, because Mama's assistant was out. Then I noticed about half the support staff was not in the office.

"Ah, do you have any duties for the rest of the day? Could you run some errands in town for me?" Mama's tone was hopeful, with a slight edge of stress to it. When she starts down that road, it's better to pitch in than skive off. Besides, anything else I had on my plate would have been in Europa or the family holdings. Her relief was a cool breeze as she handed me a list of the staff that were out, and their addresses. "Please check on these people, we might have something not-physical happening." Another sheet of paper, "...and the reports we have so far, if any of them are embarrassed about having issues."

"So, you aren't suspecting a sick-out or goldbricking," I checked the first sheet of paper, and saw Hâjdău headed the list, "...erm, I see - not with her in on it."

"Her first missed day of work - yes, I am worried, but cannot spare the time to check on her right now." I glanced over and saw three clerks waiting to talk to her.

"I got it Mama, and I can have this for you by lunch, if there's nothing serious." Rather than shove out through the crowd, I left by the open window. Hâjdău lives at the hotel, less than a block from the office, so I glided over. Shifting back to my cipher-in-the-background form when I landed on the hotel's front steps, none of the staff likely saw anything but the Wulfenbach courier's uniform as I crossed the lobby.

When she responded to the knock on her door, Hâjdău did not sound sick, she sounded scared out of her wits. Still, I reached into the margins *pulled* my medic pack out of the Infirmary as I answered, "It's Ama, from the office - I came by to check on you."

Hâjdău opened the door, quickly, asking "Do I still have my head?"

Ooookay, so this was going to be one of those illnesses. "I see you as I last saw you, but why don't I come in and make sure there's nothing wrong, hm?" Since she was still in her nightgown and dressing robe, I figured it better to get her calm with some routine medical evaluation. She nervously let me in, and I checked her over. There weren't any physical problems that I could find in my quick once-over, save that she was worn out. She probably had not been sleeping well, poor kid. By the time I got to testing her pupil reactions, they were no longer pinpoints, and responded to light appropriately. "Everything checks out, can you tell me what feels wrong?" She was a little upset, but it was directed inward, scolding herself for being so skittish. Nodding, I said, "Why don't I start off, " and I made a show of reading from the sheaf of papers I brought with me, "Things have been relatively normal during the day, but at night you dream of Steelhead being shrouded in fog..."

She started in shock, and the words just tumbled from her like a mountain stream at snow-melt, mostly in Romanian. "It is so eerie, the streets are blocked by fog so thick it is difficult to breathe, and it does not get better when I am indoors! I wake, and was getting ready for work, when I could not find my head! Her panic was increasing in waves, and I had to throw a shield around her to keep myself calm.

"It's all right! It is a dream, but it is one that many are having! We can fix this, at least enough so you will know it is a dream, and be able to rest." Taking a moment to adjust the shields to keep things from reaching in to her, I asked, "Do you have a favorite stone, or piece of jewelry?" I knew she was going to show me that promissory ring, but it helped deflect her mind away from the panic. When she held up her hand, I told her to focus on it. She did so, quizzically, and I let a little of the power of anchoring the shields in the metal bleed through to the visible light spectrum.

I dropped back into English, "There... it won't keep them out completely, but it will be enough to keep them from scaring you half to death. If you are not wearing that ring, keep it within arm's reach of you, at least until we find out who is behind the dreams."

She looked at the ring with wide eyes as the slight glow faded. "You... you did not change the ring from what it was, did you?"

"No, it's just a convenient anchor. Your young man's gift is still there with it." Her head snapped up, and I smiled, "The feelings attached to that are still a promise. Though none of us have even met him yet."

Hâjdău blushed, then yawned, "Oh! My apologies, I shouldn't have yaw-" and then she did it again.

I chuckled, "You need to catch up on your sleep. I will check back on you later, after I get through the rest of the list." I let myself out of her room without waiting for her to stand.

Once out of the hotel, I shifted to wings and headed to Auntie Kitla's workshop in Harborside. That little parlour trick with the ring took more out of me than I dared let on in front of Hâjdău. She had to believe in it for it to work at full power, but whatever it was behind the dreams was old. Ancient and powerful enemies are not taken on lightly, and we were going to need the big guns for this.

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.

Father Knows Best?

I folded through the sunset in Steelhead to the pre-dawn darkness in the bayou outside New Toulouse. Combat protocols indicate high altitude transfer with minimal disturbance of the flow, to assess the area. Even at a klick up, the Founder glowed brightly. I guess the family never has gone in for subtle, even from the first. No unfriendlies in the area, and He Who Is Speaker was gone. I landed quickly, and made the proper obiescence to the Founder.

Zaide's heartsong shone through as he knelt beside me and hugged me, an action that my parents would not believe he was capable of doing. As we rose, he said, "There is no time for formalities. Darien will awaken soon. He is once again mortal. Under no circumstances is he to inject himself with the formula again." He stepped back for takeoff. I saluted as he faded out, and turned to Father.

Still groggy, he was uninjured, and to my surprise, his eyes were again the brilliant blue of a New England autumn sky. I muttered under my breath, "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to keep him from doing something he knows is a bad idea, but he keeps doing it...."

Father growled, "...'m not deaf, Amarantis." He carefully levered himself up. "We should..."

"We should get you to the clinic, just to make sure you are all right," I interrupted him. When he staggered on standing, I was a little worried. A quick reading of his aura as I supported him showed it was mostly fatigue. Still, taking him to the infirmary was a good idea, it might keep him out of trouble for a few hours.

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.