Hi everyone.
I wasn’t going to do commentary today, because I’m still working a week ahead, but I just thought of something and decided to share it anyway.
There’s something liberating in working a few scenes ahead. It takes the immediacy out of the writing, and it saps a bit of the excitement, but it also takes the pressure WAAAAY off. Which feels amazing.
Scheduling my posts ahead, also lets me focus on where I am in the story instead of writing in two places at once. And I think the quality shows.
TBH, I have only this chapter and the next one finished, ready for some light polishing and posting. I am struggling with making chapter five coalesce (my recent most favorite word) while polishing chapter three and it keeps breaking my speed. It just wasn’t working. So, for now, I am scheduling posts for the rest of chapters three and four so that I can put all my focus on a high-quality chapter five and beyond, as I finish Ch5, I will schedule and hopefully manage to stay ahead for the rest of the year.
As for the story, this is where things start getting interesting again.
Enjoy.
Previously: General Victor Morgan, an old family friend from the PG came to visit, to check up on poor comatose ‘Cousin Elle’, whom he apparently has a vested interest in. And Luke’s
INDEX | Chapter 3 | Scene 1 | Scene 2 | Scene 3 | Scene 4 | Scene 5 | Next Scene →
Forlorn, I watch the shuttle take off, having said goodbye to one of my oldest friends. So many other members of my mixed martial arts club have been recruited over the years but none of them had been as close to me as Joel, and now that he has left on his first official Planetary Guard assignment the chances we will meet again are slim. I smile sardonically, turning back to the manor house. How long until it’s Tom or me that has no choice?
Luke is swinging lazily in a hammock under the pergola. I haven't seen him since yesterday's unexplained and frankly, confusing meeting with Victor Morgan. He seems utterly engrossed in whatever is on his screen. I walk right past him before he looks up and waves me over.
"Was that Joel?" He inquires, with an air of paternal concern.
I nod and rub away the crease between my eyebrows, "He stopped to say bye." The bright sunlight is starting to give me a headache.
"An assignment? He was only recruited a few months ago." Luke says incredulously, standing up.
"They called him a prodigy at basic training." I look down wearing a sad, half-smile and kick at an imaginary tuft in the immaculate lawn.
"Not surprising, I suppose. He was runner-up to the national champion, wasn't he?" Luke muses and I confirm with a nod.
"He is the fifth club member to go this year, actually. Last time it was Maxine and Chantel. You know, I'm surprised it took so long." I note shaking my head, "If this keeps up, I'm going to have to find another hobby after all. There's only seven of us left, well, in the way of competition anyway."
"What about the new members?" Luke asks offhandedly but I make a face indicating the negative.
"Oh, Tom is having a blast playing coach, but they are all still in training so... It is what it is." I sigh, then clench my teeth when I notice my mouth doing a pursing thing.
"Well, that's, unfortunate." he shrugs, and ignoring my irritation, continues, "Actually, there is something I have been meaning to run by you."
I try to cut him off with an excuse but he barrels on. "It has got to do with yesterday's meeting. Tom has been so busy with his new coaching thing, and as you said things are quiet at the club..." He starts to trail off uncharacteristically and I feel my irritation rising.
"Your point?" I snap, a little more harshly than I meant to.
"I wondered if you would give me a hand."
* * *
Luke explains as we walk back up the garden path to the kitchen door, that the General specifically requested my presence. The Planetary Guard's interest isn't entirely unexpected after all. Our father was a soldier, and Tom and I knew well enough we were being watched during the last marital arts tournament. Added to the discovery of our 'Cousin Elle' and the disastrous lab accident which unmistakably involved raw energy...
They should have launched a full-scale investigation. The insurance claims and large-scale rebuilding should at least have drawn a good deal of media attention. Neither eventuality passed. It was all sort of swept under the rug, and as Luke explains the job he wants help with, it starts to become clear how.
It is no secret, that the Planetary Guard did not take kindly to discharging Luke after our adoption went through, and have for years been trying to find a way to get him back. The ideal opportunity just happened to come along.
When Tom and I were kids, we often heard stories about how Luke used to be some kind of specialist for difficult interrogations and had never met a mind he couldn't crack, his recent difficulties notwithstanding. Anyway, shortly after the accident, the General asked him the first favor, which he of course couldn't refuse.
That one interrogation turned up a few leads. Follow-up turned up some more and one thing soon led to another. Now things are finally coming to a head and they’ve hit a snag. Some wanted terrorist from the Grismand War, once upon a time earned himself diplomatic immunity by helping out with some or other investigation. Apparently, the PG found Rashak Grora, somewhere he wasn't supposed to be and this time he wasn't as forthcoming with his intel.
Luke sighs as he puts his spoon down on the grey marble top of the kitchen counter with a soft clink.
"Long story short, General Morgan hoped to avoid publicizing the capture until they know what he does, but it leaked somehow. Now to avoid the political fallout they want to do the interrogation off base." He says, looking over the rim of his cup as he goes to sip the steaming coffee.
"So you want to do it here?" I probe cautiously, stirring another spoonful of sugar into mine.
"It is a delicate matter, and we are sorely pressed for time, and the Estate is isolated by the plantation. There's no press, no public roads. All approaches, even air traffic, are strictly controlled. With the upgrades from the rebuild, it’s close to perfect. There's very little that can go wrong here."
"And my part?" I ask with unfeigned confusion.
"Remember when you and Tom used to play cops and robbers?"
There was this game that Tom and I used to play when we were little, where one of us would catch the other and tie them up. Admittedly, I wasn't very good. Quick as I have always been, it was a very difficult thing for me to hold my physically large brother down long enough to tie the knots and whenever I did manage to trick Tom into some restraint, it would invariably end up a pile of tatters.
When we started to run out of rope our father suggested we find ways to reinforce the bonds with energy. With a bit of experimentation, I discovered that I could not only infuse and strengthen the fibers but also affix them to any solid object, reinforcing it with energy as well if necessary. Once the object was imbued, thanks to the properties of raw energy, it became quite unbreakable so long as I could maintain a degree of concentration. After a time, I found that I could even materialize bonds out of nowhere like I did to hold Tom down after Elle's accident.
Also, since it is neither dangerous nor energy-intensive, albeit a little flashy, it is one of the skills I was able to practice and perfect at home.
* * *
Four burly soldiers come puffing and panting around the corner into the infirmary, carrying a stretcher almost four meters long from end to end.
They have to carefully inch it around the last bend in the generous hallway, and I catch myself wondering if they will make it or get stuck halfway, and have to unload their burden to get him in here. The great bearlike entity that lay sedated by the drip and secured with cargo straps much like our own is apparently too large and dangerous to move any other way.
As they push their way through the swinging doors, Luke gives the men instructions to secure the lonsdaleite fiber frame to the pair of hardened metal trestle legs, we bolted into the ground yesterday and carefully hangs the fluid-filled IV bag on its intended hook.
The infirmary has been cleared for this, and all the equipment carted next door to the lab or pushed up against the walls. In the middle of the floor is the stretcher on its trestles, Luke’s stool at its head, and a pair of plain black plastic bucket seats placed off in the far corner. It’s still crowded but I don’t take the time to marvel at how little space there is to move. This is my first time ever, seeing a Grismand with my own eyes and I cannot help but gawk.
Rashak Grora is huge. His enormous forepaws are larger than my head. The short fat digits are tipped by black claws six centimeters long, that glint in the fluorescent lights, and his stumpy legs are solid as tree trunks. The bruin head and thick neck, much like the rest of him, are covered in smooth tan fur and a long pink tongue hangs out of one side of the snubbed snout which is open just enough to reveal creamy-colored fangs, razor-tipped.
I look up, dragging my eyes away from the Grismand, to watch the soldiers take their guard positions outside the door and wonder why Luke thought it was a good idea to make the entire top half of that wall out of reinforced glass. At least there is a little breathing room in here.
I absently pick up my tab, and bring up the control panel for the room when a young woman walks past them nodding. They seem to perk up, standing a little straighter as she passes. Luke greets her with a friendly smile and an “Oh, hi!” when she enters and she talks to him like a favorite uncle, joking, informal, and doesn’t even notice me.
Her voice is melodic, a little deeper than you'd expect for someone so slight. Her insignia indicates Lieutenant and the name tag says: C Morgan. Another Morgan. I wonder absently if she is related to the General whilst taking in her thick ponytail of chestnut hair and athletic physique that is disappointingly hidden by the shapeless uniform.
They obviously have some kind of rapport and I wonder at their relationship as she laughs, mimicking Grora's erratic movements and describing the shock on his face as he fell with a whole magazine of darts in his torso. She laughs, and my attention is drawn upwards to her jaw, which has a gentle curve and then I see her small nose and mouth, absolutely dwarfed by generous brown eyes above high cheekbones.
Luke clears his throat and I start. They are both looking at me expectantly across the room. My face flushes scarlet, and my eyes dart downwards to the control panel on my tab. I hold it up, a small shield, as I tap in the quarantine codes and set up a twelve-hour lockdown according to my brief prior instructions, inwardly cursing Luke for once again failing to share the details with me until the last minute.
It doesn’t matter. Lieutenant Morgan’s attention is on Luke who steps over to a cabinet and grabs a syringe and vial of milky yellow liquid. I try not to draw her notice as I finish setting up the lockdown. She settles the soldiers outside with a glance before taking a seat out of the way. Luke methodically clips on the needle and inserts it, drawing a large dose.
"No need to look so nervous Logan.” Luke winks coyly when he sees me glancing uncertainly between them. “Per the General's orders, Cathy will be remaining with us throughout." Luke nods and Cathy blushes. Confidence boosted.
I give her a small smile, but she looks away quickly, ostensibly studying all the lab equipment. Her eyes widen as she realizes their quality and quantity. Only the best for Doctor Lucas McKeen. I chuckle to myself, realizing her printed plastic chair is a stark contrast to the machinery. It occurs to me that telling her all the gory details I know about the centrifuge might be a great way to start a conversation, or I could name the layers of detail on the deep scanner or explain how we can manufacture blood with the fluid synthesizer, but then Luke clears his throat and indicates he is ready, and all my plans fly out the metaphorical window.
I hit the start button on the control panel, a little harder than strictly necessary. Our dear Lieutenant starts when the lights dim as the mechanical locks on the doors click into place and hermetic seals engage with a sharp hiss. Her hands move instinctively to her weapon.
Next Time: Luke’s interrogation technique takes an unexpected turn and we learn a little more about hi abilities and the ever mysterious Planetary Guard, plus the boys bond a little over Cathy.
Thanks so much for reading! If you like, please:
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and as always, I love hearing what you think so, feel free to:
I am shocked that the PG would allow nepotism! J/K it makes your earth feel like ours. Judging by there being diplomatic immunity, mentioned last scene, I take it that the big bear species is intelligent and possibly can speak? You don't have to respond to my guess. I'm reading the next scene now. Thanks Jenny!
I came back thinking I had another scene to read...damn, I'm caught up and have to wait like everyone else...no pressure Jenny, but I'm getting a little shaky, possibly withdrawal!