NationStates Jolt Archive

"A tall order, Ayid, one subject which could take a long time to discuss in depth.

"In shortest form, we were founded by a warfleet which had ill luck and a worse navigator - this was during the crusades. Our ancestors then kept this land and subjugated the few native tribes in our immediate area. It took long to move north and take part of what is now South Africa. From there, Vastiva turned into a true merchant power, trading as far as Austrailia, it is said.

"Unfortunately, again things turned against us, and we became isolationist after losing our African foothold. There we lay, dormant, for a very long time, until we were stumbled upon - and promptly took the attacker's land and people. This caused another flurry of wars, as their allies discovered us and we fought back.

"Closer to modern times, Vastiva was a gulag for the Nazis, which proved to work in our favor. We were later a weakly connected part of the first incarnation of NATO - then occupied by the Soviet. This ended with us in some distress as their power folded in on itself, and Vastiva decided it was far better to use other forms of warfare.

"However, we have retained our military tradition - we have universal conscription, and no one is ever truly free of their military bonds. Instead of land wars, we concentrate our efforts on the sea foremost..."

She pauses. "Vastiva has placed troops at many sites, mostly for defense. Our notable exception was in attacking Zarbian positions during the Brimstone conflicts. For that matter, I do not believe we have ever begun hostilities in the modern age - though, too, we have also not failed to give a stout and true defense in all our actions."

''Thank you for the info. It is very interesting and I hope to study on it more.'' Helen said politely. ''Is there anyone else that I can talk to as I wish to know other people too.'' Helen asked nicely,trying not to offend the General.

The General gave a friendly smile - at which von Rommel downed another drink.

"Certainly, you may speak to anyone here, Ayid. This party is, after all, a way of all of us getting acquainted with all of you."

The General gave a friendly smile - at which von Rommel downed another drink.

"Certainly, you may speak to anyone here, Ayid. This party is, after all, a way of all of us getting acquainted with all of you."

''Do you know any officals,etc that I could talk to?'' Helen asked. ''Thanks for the chat that we had.'' Helen then said giving both Riva and Von Rommel a cordial bow.

''Do you know any officals,etc that I could talk to?'' Helen asked. ''Thanks for the chat that we had.'' Helen then said giving both Riva and Von Rommel a cordial bow.

"Officials? Well, over there is the Grand Vizier. Raahmid is rather a nice fellow once you get past the officialdom. There's also Drayaa, his deputy - she's quite nice, if still getting used to the halter.

"Fleet Admiral Gurgi Mesfin al-Din is the one over there hogging the cocktail weenies; he might look gruff, but he's a grandfather and not really that bad."

She glances around. "The one in the wheelchair over there is Conrad Jessup, the deputy Vizier of Domestic Activities; his 'boss', Kareem ben Alovar, was here a moment or two ago... ah, there he is, the bald man by the punch bowl.... oh, there must be several dozen from the science Ministry here, though I'm not as familiar with them... that's Hans Weinstein, he's a local Bey, I think Kjik-Kjakian..." She gives a shrug. "Plenty of people about, Ayid. Even those old ladies in the corner tittering are probably someone. All you need to do is walk up and talk."

"Officials? Well, over there is the Grand Vizier. Raahmid is rather a nice fellow once you get past the officialdom. There's also Drayaa, his deputy - she's quite nice, if still getting used to the halter.

"Fleet Admiral Gurgi Mesfin al-Din is the one over there hogging the cocktail weenies; he might look gruff, but he's a grandfather and not really that bad."

She glances around. "The one in the wheelchair over there is Conrad Jessup, the deputy Vizier of Domestic Activities; his 'boss', Kareem ben Alovar, was here a moment or two ago... ah, there he is, the bald man by the punch bowl.... oh, there must be several dozen from the science Ministry here, though I'm not as familiar with them... that's Hans Weinstein, he's a local Bey, I think Kjik-Kjakian..." She gives a shrug. "Plenty of people about, Ayid. Even those old ladies in the corner tittering are probably someone. All you need to do is walk up and talk."

''Thank you for these pieces of info.'' Helen said. Then she went to the Grand Vizier and said ''Excuse me,Grand Vizier but are you free for a conversation?'' ''I hope I can talk to the Grand Vizier. I heard he is second to the Sultan himself!'' Helen thought to herself.

Neira was half in a daze, staring at her surroundings. She would be down right overwelmed if Ka'tal hadn't been there. Where to begin? Who to talk to first? She recognized several of the faces from her earlier preparation on the Vastivian government... She was just noticing a rather plum-looking official when a servant approached offering her a drink.

"A repast, milady, to remove the parch from your throat? Green stems are sweetened with honey, red with sugar, and blues stand by themselves. If you have no preference, I'd suggest the green - by themselves, these are a might strong, though if you have another preference, it can be fetched?"

Neira smiled. "I have learned to trust the judgement of your people about such things. I will gladly take a green one, thank you."

Her attention changes back quickly to the plum one, and what must be some kind of official on his... no, more like he was on her arm... If she remembered correctly, the women was a Vizier of Art or some sort. Neira was quite versed in that area... Perhaps a good place to start? Although the man with her looks miserable...

The servant shifts to Ka'tal. "Would you care for one, mam'selle?"

Ka'tal smiled back. "I will take a blue one, thank you." She stares a bit more at the servant, to make sure her instinct was not deceiving her.

A simple grin plays over his face as he watches her reaction. "A good turn out, one would think. You'd faint know there t'were a hundred and a half commons here, spread among the upper crusty and the titled." He gives Neira a slow, practiced wink.

Neira smiles back, but shows her confusion. "You mean these aren't all Vastivian officials? Unless you speak of other servants, why would there there be common citizens here?"

Ka'tal quielty interjected, waiting for the servant to respond. "This room is filled with people in disguise it seems my Lady.... " She pauses, as she stares at the servant. "Commoners among the upper crust... lowly house guards," she motions to herself, "among candidates for the Harem. I can see this will be a most interesting night."

The servant smiles and gives another nod - "That it should, ma'amselle. Though there are no lowly house guards, only the loyal and the absent." - before returning his attention to Neira.

"Indeed, Ayid, if this is where you are to meet the people of Vastiva, would it not be correct to meet the people? As you can see from the old couple who have made it their business to attempt to finish off more crab puffs then can be supplied - it can be reasonably assumed they will fail, but will enjoy the attempt - the people are here. Oddly, some have the better manners... your pardon, please", he gives another nodding bow and makes his way toward a rather youngish rake who calls for a drink with a snap and a waved finger.

"Daahling, I insist, you simply have to try this!"

With the sort of girlish trill she had never used when she might reasonably have been called "girlish", Myfanwy thrust the brimming drink into Engred's uninjured hand.

She swept a confiding arm around the other woman's waist, doing her best to remember how she had seen the socialites of her regional capital behave when they had come slumming to the student hang-outs she favoured. With dismay she realised that Engred was unsteady on her feet, leaning into Myfanwy's supporting arm.

Some people she knew would enjoy the drama of passing out at a crowded reception. But she was sure that Engred, like herself, would abhor any fuss. Her eyes swept the crowd for discreet assistance. Neira and the reliable Ka-tal had been nearby ...

She tracked them down, was almost sure she had caught Ka'tal's eye, but they were involved in a conversation and a sudden movement would draw unwelcome attention. Myfanwy was finding it a struggle to maintain a suitably unruffled social air for herself and Engred.

A tan robe, flashes of white, gold and silver ... Myfanwy breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief. "Chief Herald!" she said aloud, the title coming out as more a cry than a greeting. "Chief Herald, may I present a fellow candidate, Engred Stahlhaver, of the nation of Cadillac-Gage. Engred, the Chief Herald of Vastiva, Nivia Alix von Cohen."

A warm gaze took in Engred's state as Myfanwy continued, "We were wondering, Nivia ap ardrigh, if there were any particularly noteworthy pieces here we should make sure not to miss?" Her eyes flickered to the sides of the huge room, where enclosed alcoves might well hold art-works, but would more certainly hold seats or benches and some hope of privacy.

A gesture, a movement; and a sense of reluctance coming to her from Engred.

"Don't worry, she won't let us down," Myfanwy whispered urgently. "She's a Herald. They've got an ethical system that makes the Dalai Lama look self-indulgent."

OOC: ap ardrigh means simply "of the King", but has deeply respectful connotations in Findhorn: more, "most loyal of the King's friends", with the implication that the person would tell the truth even when the King preferred not to hear it.

Nivia gives a smile and a short bow. "But of course. Most pleased to make your acquaintance, Engred Stahlhaver. Most of the pieces in this particular room aren't that noteworthy - they are rather nice though, if you would come this way, there's an Azizian cupid in a cubicle which might be worth a bit of looking..."

She more or less leads them in grandmotherly prods to a side, where a marble bench sits in front of a statue of a small boy with a bow. "As you can see, nothing spectacular, but nice. Perhaps if you sit here, dear, you can get a better view of the Etruscan vase across the way?"

As Engred is besitted, she gives Myfanwy another comforting look. "I'm rather sure we could find some sour cherry drink hereabouts, if we did but ask. Your friend might enjoy it as much as you did?"

"....Oddly, some have the better manners... your pardon, please", he gives another nodding bow and makes his way toward a rather youngish rake who calls for a drink with a snap and a waved finger.

Neira sighed. "He is right, you know, Ka't. This fits perfectly with what we have heard about and know of Vastiva and the Sultan. I just wonder when he is going to make his grand entrance."

Ka'tal nearly laughed out loud. "Something tells me, my Lady, that his entrance will not be so grand. ...In fact, I have a strong feeling he is already here."

Neira look confused for a bit, then did a double take in the direction the servant had just went. She winced. "No. No, no, nonononono. You have got to be kidding me. Please tell me you are kidding me."

Now Ka'tal laughed. "Do not worry, you handled yourself well. Besides, he does not want it to be known that he is here, as of yet, I'm sure."

"I thought he looked familiar.... but then I thought to myslef, that doesnt make sense, since I have seen little male servants since I have been here.... Oh Ka'tal! They say first impressions are everything, and I just came across as a dimwitted immature socialite."

"Nonsense. And besides, first impressions might be something, but its what you do after them that shapes any relationship."

"I need something to eat."

They both move off to a table to grab some refreshments. During the stroll over, Ka'tal caught the gaze of Myffy, who was nearly holding up another candidate.. Engred, if she recalled... she was about to go and provide help when she noticed an official coming, and thought the situation under control for the moment.

They reached the table. "Perhaps, my lady, we can go see how our friend Myffy is handling all of this."

"Good idea. I got the feeling she hadn't been to too many parties of this nature. In other words, I was jealous..."

They both smiled and ate some fish, what they swore was Herring Ala Xerco...

***

Guy was about to palm the camera back into his pocket when he noticed the Vektori girl and her house guard come over to the table he had just left. A close up! Of them eating!

After he took a quick snap, he gently placed it back into his coat, and on the return, pulled out a very small ring. He placed it on his finger, and waited for a moment to approach the Vektori girl. In the meantime, he consciously tried not to stare at the house guard's curves. From what the Minister has told me, she could break me in half... but hell I bet I would enjoy it...

Nivia gives a smile and a short bow. "But of course. Most pleased to make your acquaintance, Engred Stahlhaver. Most of the pieces in this particular room aren't that noteworthy - they are rather nice though, if you would come this way, there's an Azizian cupid in a cubicle which might be worth a bit of looking..."

She more or less leads them in grandmotherly prods to a side, where a marble bench sits in front of a statue of a small boy with a bow. "As you can see, nothing spectacular, but nice. Perhaps if you sit here, dear, you can get a better view of the Etruscan vase across the way?"

As Engred is besitted, she gives Myfanwy another comforting look. "I'm rather sure we could find some sour cherry drink hereabouts, if we did but ask. Your friend might enjoy it as much as you did?"

Engred's head swam, she was having problems thinking... "...tea, please, and an aspirin..?" She couldn't shake off the wrong feeling, the sensation that what her eyes were seeing wasn't real, like a copy of a copy, playing slightly out-of-synch.
A Kadin standing near the door was showing gaping wounds that faded and swelled like a pulse-beat. Some of hte guests seemed to alternate between injured and uninjured. a stylishly dressed woman turned and Engred spotted decay behind the mask of makeup, clear as day, clear as death itself.

"Myfanwy, what do you see when you look at the lady with the silver cocktail dress and red feathers by the far wall?" she asked in a low tone.
What Engred saw, was blood, the woman's hands were coated in it, up to the elbow.

Not real...focus...focus...not REAL... she closed her eyes, and opened theim agian. The precursors were much, much, stronger. Something awful was going to happen, soon.

a fat man starved to a skeleton's build gossipped lightly with a uniformed man sporting a dagger thrust into his back. A woman with strangulation bruising idly popped a canape' into her mouth and laughed at the jest of a gentleman whose expensive tuxedo was torn in ragged holes, covered in blood and effluvient.

Not all... others walked unmarked-in fact, most did. but the warning in her eyes would not go away. NOT REAL the odd copied quality of the scene didn't change.

"um... just her, why?" Myfanwy replied.

Engred closed her eyes, "I think...I think... I saw somehting, but it's gone now..." she said. don't talk about it-don't talk about it nobody will believe you anywaydon'ttalkaboutit,nosuchthing itsnotrealdon'ttellhershe'llhthinkyou'reoffyournutdonttellit'sasecret...
Engred's heart raced in mixed fear and something else.

Medea had noticed Engred's glance earlier, and was now beginning to vaguely feel as if something horrifyingly devastating was occurring. Yet the thought was abstract, and rather than the vivid images of explosions and corpses, all that she could discern was a dull ache slightly above her stomach. It matched the sensation she felt when her parents died two years earlier. Marshalling her will, Medea adopted the "military mind" that her training had embedded onto her consciousness. She walked with poise and grace toward a seat and took it in a fluid motion. Then she willed that if anybody approached her that they had a background either in psionics or in dispelling strange premonitions. Either way, she realized, whatever had happened was already past - she wasn't Engred, who could see the future, after all.

The false-overlay images were getting worse. the room was much, much more crowded than it should be-more crowded than it could rationally hold. Soldiers rushed from alcove to alcove as partygoers danced in twenties styles through tables at a funeral.

Engred closed her eyes, and tried to control her breathing. "It's getting worse."

She managed to banish half the overlaid images by imagining the fire.

A servant carrying a tray of drinks across the room caught her attention as he spoke to Neira and Ka'tal.

Engred recognized his face.

There was a darkness hovering over him-uncertainty, avoidable. she focused on the uncertainty what's avoidable? she asked her self.

"...even the most certain visions are just visions until they happen, but some can be averted if you know what to look for." The Oldpeople shaman placed the coals into a circle, "Uncertainty is your friend. seek it out when the visions call you. In uncertainty there are answers cub..."

the soft hissing growl of her teacher's voice receded to a drone as the flashback receded, leaving the same overlaid mess for her eyes.

He was coming in her direction, stopping and serving unknowing guests, some of whom only seemed to be here for the party. more blood-drenched hands beckoned for drinks, and malevolence like chained clouds hung over them as the celebrated with their victims.

Engred really, desperately, wanted to be nauseous. a squad of Soldiers in green robes dashed untouched through tables and died on stone floors unseen by the solid, 'real' people here.
Uncertainty... it can be averted. but where? how? she couldn't see it.
she leaned back, and closed her eyes again, trying to find the Hrewowwer, the handle that would push the visions back enough that she could get back up and look around, maybe learn something.

she had to open her eyes, and saw a reflection of herself in the polished wall.

Her reflection lay spread-eagle on black snow, opened and chewed by carnivores.

NOT "REAL" the dead her was gone, replaced by a mere reflection.

the other images were likwise gone, no more blood, no more horrors. Only people, and music.

Engred felt ill.

[*ooc: Sensitives in the room would 'hear' her denial-refusal as if it were spoken directly behind them, with great vehemence. non-sensitives won't notice a thing.]

The time had come... Goldie was distracted, droning on to one of the poor candidates about something artsy, and no one else was in proximity to the girl and her house guard.

He walked up to them.

"Lady Neira Vektori! It is such a pleasure to see a fellow Voltaru so far away from our birthland. Please let me introduce myself...."

He holds out his hand as if to shake hers, and makes sure she sees the ring. He lowers his voice as much as he can without being too obvious. "My name is Guy Smiley... A mutual friend, I believe, has told you that we would meet here."

Neira looked down at his hand. "The seal of the house of Jassan. Xana sent you?"

"More or less. Do you have the cards?"

"You do get to the point. Yes, I have them." Neira takes them out of her purse and passes them to Guy, who places them in a plastic bag, and then in his pocket.

"Thank you, very much, my Lady. Now, if you wouldn't mind... could be stroll a bit and talk? The Voltaru people really want to know how you are doing, and feeling about this whole endeavor."

"I suppose."

They strolled around for about 2 minutes, Guy trying to remember important soundbites. If only I had brought a mini recorder, how stupid am I. Careful not to wander too long from his Vizier, Guy brought the short interview to a halt as the three arrived back at the Herring table.

"I thank you my Lady. I will now endeavor to leave this place as quickly as possible... although.." as he glances over at Goldie... "that might not be easy. I bid you goodluck and farewell. He winks and smiles at Ka'tal and gingerly makes his way back to Goldie's side.

Ka'tal frowns. "At first I had doubts the Minister actually sent him, but seeing how he acted, I can tell they are friends. His ears may have had your attention, but his eyes were rather busing probing me. If we had been back home, he woudl have been hobbling out of here..."

"I owe many things to Xana, Ka't, and I know she has my best interest at heart. I do wonder though, why he asked me about cheese of all things."

"Vastivians are rather fond of it, I think. But enough about him. Now that's over, lets go and talk to Myffy."

The two grab a last cracker and herring combination, and start moving over to where Myffy and Engred were sitting.

The Hospital...

Whoever designed the lock, had clearly defined ideas about the ability of a patient to open it. Either that, or he'd never heard of a spoon.

the high-tensile plastic spoon's handle was flat, and close enough in size to work as a screwdriver-provided the screws (as these were) were relatively low-torque.

Inside, was a glowing mass of fibreoptics, hair-fine and decidedly not-to be shorted across the way one would normal electronics.

Sharon stared at the layout and that part of her mind that has always had a kind of 'innate' understanding of machinery went to work.

her frantic research during the submarine trip came in handy-particularly the information on how Vastiva's consumer electronics and communications hardware functioned.

She looked back at the bed, and saw the display reader.

(Lightbulb!)

the spoons handle was too wide, but the fork... had a nice, slim, narrow, and most importanly, flat, shape.

"I haluta jotta ilakoida ulkona.
I haluta jotta ilakoida ulkona
I-I- I- haluta jotta ilakoida ulkona avulla te"

she sang as she worked. the song was a light, poppy little tune. Of course, Sharon's singing was less that perfect. changing the input to output (Read to write) after sabotaging the safeties on the disc-reader was child's play.

pegging in instructions in machine-language using the jumpers was trickier...

Eventually, she figured out how to get aroudn the need for the door's specific coding.

She told the system it was detecting a fire, and that the level would have to be evacuated.

As fire alarms went off, the door opened with a turn of the handle, and Sharon walked out into the hallway, and set about exploring...

Elsewhere in the Hospital, the central computer system...

The system refreshed to provide arriving fire-suppression units an updated map of the massive fire...only to find that it was, after all, a false alarm. nanoseconds in realtime passed as the Hospital's internal network assessed possibilities.
The system sent a query to its organic operators, and cancelled the request for fire-suppression personnel, changing it to a maintenance request and generating a 'tag'.

Engred's head swam, she was having problems thinking... "...tea, please, and an aspirin..?"
Aspirin was easy enough; Nivia's capacious robes contained all manner of useful items. But tea ... Myfanwy knew the super-efficient Vastivans would have whatever she asked for, but what should she get? Chamomile? Valerian? St John's wort?

"Myfanwy, what do you see when you look at the lady with the silver cocktail dress and red feathers by the far wall?" she asked in a low tone.
What Engred saw, was blood, the woman's hands were coated in it, up to the elbow.

Not real...focus...focus...not REAL... she closed her eyes, and opened theim agian. The precursors were much, much, stronger. Something awful was going to happen, soon ...

"Um... just her, why?" Myfanwy replied.

Engred closed her eyes, "I think...I think... I saw somehting, but it's gone now..." she said. don't talk about it-don't talk about it nobody will believe you anywaydon'ttalkaboutit,nosuchthing itsnotrealdon'ttellhershe'llhthinkyou'reoffyournutdonttellit'sasecret...
Engred's heart raced in mixed fear and something else.

The more Engred talked, the more Myfanwy wished she wouldn't. An ordinary headache didn't get that bad, that fast. If she thought she "saw something", it might be a migraine; people often got visual disturbances with those. She'd probably start throwing up soon, too. Goddess, what would the gossips make of that! If they didn't decide Engred was drunk, they'd have her pregnant to ... well, whoever they pitched on, it'd cause an international incident.

"Nivia, we've got to get her out of here! She needs a doctor!"

With relief, she saw Neira and Ka'tal had almost reached their little group. "If Ka'tal and I held her up, do you think you could pretend to be showing us something outside --"

With a sinking feeling, Myfanwy remembered the solid thunk of the doors closing behind everyone earlier: "Quite nice this time of year, now that the storm has blown over - no clouds or light pollution at all, once the door is shut!".

" -- Uhh, I guess not." (C'mon, Myff, tie a knot and go on, quick! She's getting greener!) The toilets? But, as far as she could remember, they were over the other side of the vast room. Besides, the sort of Grandes Dames they were supposed to be didn't go to the Ladies' in a giggly bunch ...)

Aha! "Ka'tal, that servant you and Neira were chatting to -- do you think he could be trusted not to dob us in to the high-ups? We need a bowl, fast. Engred's really sick."

She leaned closer to the Voltarum pair. "She's probably going to throw up," she whispered, practically head to head.

Oh, my. Herrings. Pungent herrings. "Make that almost certainly," Myfanwy muttered.

Aspirin was easy enough; Nivia's capacious robes contained all manner of useful items. But tea ... Myfanwy knew the super-efficient Vastivans would have whatever she asked for, but what should she get? Chamomile? Valerian? St John's wort?



The more Engred talked, the more Myfanwy wished she wouldn't. An ordinary headache didn't get that bad, that fast. If she thought she "saw something", it might be a migraine; people often got visual disturbances with those. She'd probably start throwing up soon, too. Goddess, what would the gossips make of that! If they didn't decide Engred was drunk, they'd have her pregnant to ... well, whoever they pitched on, it'd cause an international incident.

"Nivia, we've got to get her out of here! She needs a doctor!"

With relief, she saw Neira and Ka'tal had almost reached their little group. "If Ka'tal and I held her up, do you think you could pretend to be showing us something outside --"

With a sinking feeling, Myfanwy remembered the solid thunk of the doors closing behind everyone earlier: "Quite nice this time of year, now that the storm has blown over - no clouds or light pollution at all, once the door is shut!".

" -- Uhh, I guess not." (C'mon, Myff, tie a knot and go on, quick! She's getting greener!) The toilets? But, as far as she could remember, they were over the other side of the vast room. Besides, the sort of Grandes Dames they were supposed to be didn't go to the Ladies' in a giggly bunch ...)

Aha! "Ka'tal, that servant you and Neira were chatting to -- do you think he could be trusted not to dob us in to the high-ups? We need a bowl, fast. Engred's really sick."

She leaned closer to the Voltarum pair. "She's probably going to throw up," she whispered, practically head to head.

Oh, my. Herrings. Pungent herrings. "Make that almost certainly," Myfanwy muttered.

Engred clenched her eyes against the jolting nausea, and began slowing her breaths the way she'd been taught so long ago.

Her clenched expression smoothed as she more-or-less fell into a trance.

"I'm not ill." she said softly, and opened her eyes. "at least, no more than anyone whose possible futures include being fed to the bears to keep them quiet."
Her face was expressionless, and her tone was flat, and almost inhumanly calm. "I promise I won't throw up, okay? I just need to...to move around a bit."

With formal dignity, Nivia walks the whole pack into the observation lounge and shuts the door.

As promised, the room is dark - starlight alone illuminates the room, giving grey auras to the few there in couches or by the sides.

"Yes, Ayid, do sit. It will make the view that much better." is said aloud. Quietly, Engred is put to a couch, an empty champagne bucket placed beside her. "Would you care for a cold cloth for the back of your neck?"

The Hospital...

The Well uncapped, floods the basement
Or so the saying goes. The lock on her door re-engaged with a 'click' ten seconds after she left the Recovery room. First, Sharon checked out the doorway across the hall. It led to a small chamber she recognized-the Operation theatre. As there were no visible exits...other than the medical-waste drop. "don't want that..." she slipped back out into the corridor, and saw the guards at the Elevator coming her way.
"Not that way." she turned south.

"Hey!!" came from behind her. Sharon didn't look; she heard their footsteps. She bolted, hospital gown flying open behind her and giving the guards a nice view of...

The Party!

..."Would you care for a cold cloth for the back of your neck?"

Engred shook her head, "nnooo I'm... " The dark observation room wasn't empty-to her. furnishings appeared whole, and smashed at the same time. The spotless, smooth, perfect walls were at the same time marred by weapons and blood.
"They're going to herd the loyal staff in here, and gun them down." she said tonelessly. "They'll do it in here, because they can keep the press out indefinitely."
She looked at Nivia. "Right now, they think they can destabilize things without bloodshed, but once they get to a certain point, it will be unavoidable-the coup will take on a life of its own, and the first victims after the Sultan is deposed, will be the ones that planned it in the first place-traitors can't afford to trust, you know. What I haven't figured out yet, is the point where the Uncertainty is-where a specific action, or a specific key person, can stop it...the images are too intense, too confusing."
She closed her eyes, and leaned back, "I'm not even sure who the players are-in fact, I don't know enough to be useful..." she banged her bandaged hand against the couch, "but I can't shut it out."

"I... see." In the darkness, it is all but impossible to see her features - or her raised eyebrow. "Perhaps it would be best to discuss this elsewhere, when your thoughts are more collected?"

"I... see." In the darkness, it is all but impossible to see her features - or her raised eyebrow. "Perhaps it would be best to discuss this elsewhere, when your thoughts are more collected?"

"The show must go on. For the Sultan's guests, having one of us bow-out for health reasons could be interpreted as a sign of weakness on his part." Engred's mouth said. her hand moved in a gesture she was achingly unfamiliar with, "besides, I need to see more if what counsel I can give will be of any use whatsoever-vague warnings and premonitions do little without solid, confirmable details to point the way." Her voice, but not her manner, or her tone-in fact, Engred had sounded more like someone other since her near-illness in the main room.

inside Engred's mind...
The glacier was soothing and quiet in midsummer-the rain hardly reached this icy plateau. "I really must remember what I'm supposed to be doing..." she said. Teacher flicked an ear in amusement. "You are doing what you and I agreed to do, when the conditions were proper." he purred, stepping lightly in spite of feline arthritis.
"But...what was it?" she asked.
He was silent, sphinx-like, as they reached a gap in the ice, where a lone rock-really the peak of a mountain, stuck upward. "I think we should rest here." he told her.

"You did not answer my question." she told him.

His neck-fur ruffled, and he placed some sticks into a blackened depression scooped in the unyeilding rock. "You will know, soon enough. You are old enough to know why you chose to hide in the machine-world, and now, if you look carefully, you know why you chose not to remember, or speak of what you remember. Now sit, we must wait for another to join us."

She knelt down, and sat on a stone, while the feline ancient carefully built the tiny fire.

"Who? who are we waiting for?" Engred asked.

he looked up, "You-or at least, the part of you that had to hide for so long..."