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Rated: GC · Book · Action/Adventure · #2260285
file for pieces of my story - I am reworking this for a book - the outline is done!
#1019551 added May 21, 2022 at 12:18am
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Chapter 14 : Mistakes Were Made
Chapter 14

"Tyrulan!" Mira shouted, stalking through the corridors of the Main Dark compound.

Tyrulan heard her, actually, he followed her passage through the corridors by her yells. and avoided her. Whatever had her this angry couldn't be good for him. He had retreated all the way to the records department before she managed to corner him. He flipped through files to try to look like he had a purpose to be there.

"Tyrulan! There you are! What are you doing?"

"Attempting to correlate personnel placement on all of the creches that have been targeted?"

Mira smiled then frowned, "What excellent initiative, and brilliant detective work. Found anything?"

"Not so far mistress! What is it that I can help you with?"

"I have a new mission for you. I have been trying to wipe out a pathetic colony world in the Edenverse. It is called Plymouth, not that the name will matter if I succeed. Anyway, I have launched dozens of asteroids and comets at it. Only a few minor impacts have gotten through to the planet's surface. I haven't even wiped out any cities."

"You want me to investigate the system?"

"No, the planet. discover if there is an extra-human on that planet somewhere that has been deflecting the potentially effective objects," Mira ran a finger over the top of a filing cabinet and looked at it. "Remind me to torture the head of janitorial services. No one has cleaned in here for years."

"Of course mistress."

"You will need to restore your human form to an appropriate level. My understanding is that the human males of Plymouth believe in clean-shaven faces for the unwed."

Tyrulan took a deep breath and began the internal transformation process, "As you wish mistress. It may take me a few days, I haven't been feeling well."

"Really? You must have caught a cold or something from those sniveling brats in the creches. Just as well I take you off that mission." She caught his eyes and tossed him a tablet. "That has all of the mission particulars." She teleported back to wherever she had most recently come from. Her wardrobe would indicate she was still temporarily holding court on Tradehub.

Tyrulan took the tablet back to his quarters, a perk from being Mira's right-hand minion. He spent the next few days tailoring his new form to the planet he would be visiting. That included the rather painful process of reducing his height by several inches. He ordered up an outfit to blend in with the locals. The compound's seamstresses had little trouble replicating the handspun garments. By the time the clothes were ready so was he. Teleporting to the planet was no problem. The significant walk into the main settlement from a concealed arrival position was fortunate. He discovered on reaching Covettown that all of the locals would have found his clean, pressed, and new garments disturbing. Most of them wore slightly threadbare and deeply filthy clothing.

He entered the village and telepathically deflected what little curiosity he encountered. Things in this colony weren't all roses for all that they had survived a concerted attack. The people seemed downtrodden the females even more so. The last report prior to the planned bombardment implied a reasonably prosperous economy. It appeared to be struggling now. Perhaps environmental pressures from the impacts that had made it to the surface were affecting the climate. Whatever the cause, the planet seemed different than the earlier reports would have him believe. Perhaps something more was going on here than he knew. He rented a room in an inn. Once in his room, he pulled out his tablet and began going through the notes from previous missions to Plymouth.

It turned out that several previous missions had inserted cultural pressures on the society. They had instilled a religious fervor which led to a purge that almost wiped out the population of the colony. It could be that those cultural "infections" introduced previously had been naturally triggered again. He made a note in his report, that perhaps they could be pressured into another purge. The planet was not known for much in the way of scientific inquiry. There were a few astronomical observatories scattered on the planet that allowed for the religious searching of the skies for the return of the mythical founders. It seemed like Mira was hitting the planet pretty hard by attempting to destroy it with asteroids and comets. It seemed like minor social engineering would be all it would take to wipe out the population, or perhaps a round of the plague developed for Tradehub. Tyrulan spent the night reading old reports and concealed his tablet before heading down to the dining area for breakfast.

"Founders be praised, Bishop Lourdad is asking for another round of tithes to celebrate the anniversary of the Emissary's arrival," A man said at the table next to Tyrulan.

"Founders be praised, how many tithes does that make for this month alone? Isn't this the fourth round?" Another man responded.

"The size of the tithes is getting larger too. The bishop insists that the Emissary requires more because she came so far to visit us."

This "Emissary" intrigued Tyrulan. Could she be the cause of the economic and social strain? Had Mira sent in another agent to destroy this culture without telling him? He needed to proceed as though that weren't a possibility. That didn't mean he couldn't investigate her. In fact, right now that seemed a mission priority.


* * *

Nova no longer had the freedom to move around the village on her own. Bishop Lourdad had assigned a novice monk as a "bodyguard." As far as the citizens were informed it was for Nova's protection. She was well aware of the truth. They no longer trusted her to behave in a manner acceptable to the doctrine of their faith. Namely, she had been called out for her involvement with the women's group. All of the women involved had quietly disappeared into the recesses of the monastery one by one. Several women beyond the actual group had also disappeared. The conclave was called, Nova was examined and questioned thoroughly. The end result was that it would have a negative effect on the standing of the clergy for them to prescribe purification for her. The possibility that they might be seen as fools was too strong. It was decided Nova would return to her habit of walking among the people but only in a strictly monitored fashion.

"Emissary, it is time for your walk." Jordan, the young monk that was her babysitter informed her as he unlocked her cell. He looked her over and made certain she was maintaining the appearance the people were accustomed to.

"Where will we be walking today?"

"The Bishop has said you may direct the walk, but no discussions of the faith."

Allowed a little freedom for the first time in weeks, Nova anticipated walking through the market. The stall operators were all pridefully generous to her. They let her sample their wares. It was entertaining and sometimes a taste would awaken the ghost of a memory, little more than a hint of familiarity that she could not place. "I would like to walk through the market."

Jordan nodded in acknowledgment and led her down the stairs and out of the monastery. The walk to the market revealed a tense new mood throughout the village. The women especially had a haunted look to them. Some bore fresh bruises. Nova felt a wave of guilt this was because of her activities with the women's group. No doubt the men of the village had taken to heavily disciplining their women lest they too needed purification. Nova wondered if the group would have been found out if she had never joined them.

Her mood was definitely somber by the time they reached the market. The tone of the market was different too. Everyone was much more guarded than before the difficulties. She stopped by a stall run by a redheaded woman. "Iolanthe, how are the berries coming?"

"They are ripening well Emissary. Would you like to taste the greens from my northern garden?"

Nova nodded and accepted a small wad of greens. She popped them in her mouth and chewed. "They are very refreshing. Thank you." Jordan cleared his throat, and Nova took it to mean she should move on. Before doing so Nova glanced to her left and noticed a man staring at her with an intensity few citizens of Plymouth could manage. She locked eyes with him. He didn't look away. It took Jordan grabbing her elbow and tugging for them to break eye contact. Nova looked at Jordan for a moment and began walking away from the stall. When she turned back to look at the man again, he had faded into the crowd. She thought of his eyes. They spoke of darkness that she had only seen in the eyes of the Bishop when he discussed purification. There was also a hollow kind of sadness to him. He was clearly obsessed with her. she wondered what his motivations were and if she would see him again. Jordan ushered her onward towards the next stall.


* * *

Brenda went on a bender of emptying creches she knew at some point it would become too dangerous to continue but she wanted to empty as many as she could before Mira could react and increase security or move the creches. This was her third creche this mission. Her stasis loop already had hundreds of children ready to be released into the freedom of the Preserve. Hopefully, the ruphrup were ready for these infants and toddlers. She had given them little time to settle into their new world. They were still in the process of personalizing their villages. Each time Brenda arrived on their new world she would drop off a group of sanruphrup young proportionate to the percentage of the ruphrup population living in each village. The ruphrup had agreed to raise them as best as they could but between the move and the rapid influx, the civilization was strained.

"Ulu, open the stasis loop." Her suit complied and Brenda began shoving the squirming infants from this nursery through the event horizon.

"Someone is approaching our location," Ulu informed her.

Brenda shoved the last few infants through two at a time. The event horizon closed just as a human male entered the nursery. He was armed. Brenda had remained cloaked in her personal brand of invisibility the whole time. So without moving something in the room he would not be able to detect her.

He pulled a communications device from a pocket of his uniform, "Security, we are breached. Turn on the sprinklers in nursery one."

Brenda raised an eyebrow. This was a smart one, or new protocols had been adopted. She doubted she could remain invisible with water droplets falling from the ceiling. She made note of the new information and teleported to the nursery holding the toddlers. She had scouted the rooms before beginning with the youngest children's evacuation.

A woman with a scar over her right eye quickly ran into the nursery from the hallway. She spoke into a communicator held to her ear, "Nursery two reporting, they haven't cleared this one, what should I do?"

"Jarell suggested turning on the sprinklers," a man on the other side of the communication link stated. "Proceeding with fire protocols in the whole complex."

That was that, Brenda was done cleaning this creche out for now. And the sprinkler trick just might reveal her presence in her next raid. Brenda teleported back to Alexander's bench she sat heavily on the bench next to the wise old human male.

"Well, you seem discouraged Ms. Bench," Alexander stated throwing crumbs onto the grass across the sidewalk from the bench. Some pigeons had gathered and were eagerly pecking up his offerings.

"I have to come up with a new idea of how to rescue children from enslavement."

"Mira?"

"Who else old man?"

"I have faith in you and your people. You'll figure something out. You always do. Weren't you practically dying one of the first times we met? Then you ate some fruit and saved a whole universe."

"All in a day's work…But things keep getting tougher."

Alexander handed her his bag of crumbs and gestured for her to feed the pigeons. "The thing about that Ms. Bench is that you and your people keep getting tougher too." He got up and walked away with the slightest limp.

Brenda watched him walk away. After he was out of sight she sat feeding the birds until she ran out of crumbs. She wadded up the small bag and tossed it into the trash can chained to the bench. "Well, time to go piss Mae off." Brenda teleported to the Preserve and skipped the line for check-in by going directly to the one staffed by Tina Harvey.

Tina scanned her through without a word, but with a sour look on her face. Then just before waving her on she said, "Good luck."

Brenda eyed her and wondered about the cryptic statement. Her next stop was Mae's apartment. She walked up to the door. Usually, it recognized her and let her in automatically. After all, as Chief of Field Operations, she had as much business in the main business office for the Preserve as Mae did. When the door didn't open, Brenda took a step back and knocked. There was no response. She put her palm to the door pad, it should have opened the door for her, instead, a screen appeared on the door at eye level.

Mae's face, a little the worse for wear lit up the screen. Her hair was unkempt and her eyes had a frantic edge to them. "Hello, all business can be directed to the governing council or field chief Brenda Bench. Sincerely Mae Amante. I quit!"

"This was a new development," Brenda stated aloud to no one. "Ulu, where have the business offices for the Preserve been relocated to?"

"Searching, Cavern 81 C building 8, which department do you need?"

Brenda considered it a few moments, "Refugee placement."

"Would you like me to perform the transport? I have been practicing your techniques in my off time."

Brenda considered the option, generally speaking, she hated artificial transport means but Ulu was part of a prototype suit meant to observe her abilities to manipulate space-time and if possible replicate them. It would be beneficial to all factors everywhere if their suits could fold, weave, bend and mend the fabric of space-time like she could. The only way she could determine the effectiveness of Ulu's attempts was to experience them at some point. "Yeah, go ahead Ulu."

The next ten seconds made Brenda incredibly nauseous, but she didn't puke or pass out so that was a definite improvement over most other artificial attempts.

"I sense I was unsuccessful. Could you attempt to illuminate the point where I went wrong?"

Dizzy, Brenda forced herself to relive the memory of the teleportation. The twitch of space-time that equated to her arrival just outside of the office was the source of discomfort. Rather than just smoothly blending the fabric between the two locations together without the gnarly twists of space-time that the Preserve was made of, Ulu had spliced things so the twists of space-time all came untwisted at the arrival point. Brenda's head hurt too bad to articulate this but she knew her suit was monitoring her thoughts and could probably interpret things more from them than the spoken word. "Keep practicing."

Brenda knocked on the frosted glass of the office door. It opened inward and she saw the office was organized into open workstations. She walked up to the least busy one, "This is Refugee Placement, right?"

A frazzled-looking young woman turned to shoo her away until she saw who had spoken. "Cheif Bench! Yes, we're Refugee Relocation and Placement. Sorry for the chaos. We are still attempting to integrate the command staff into our department. We used to communicate with the department heads through messaging, emails and video conferencing. Now they are in our faces…"

"I understand. What exactly happened?"

"Chief Amante quit! She threw everyone out of her apartment! Told them to establish the governmental offices elsewhere! All the departments are in chaos. So what can I do for you?"

Brenda chuckled momentarily then felt more than a little guilty. "I have about five hundred sanruphrup children I need to get med checks on and get placed with ruphrup foster families."

"Really, we weren't expecting any…" the woman picked up a tablet and flipped through several screens.

"It was a spur of the moment thing. I was expecting to have an argument with Mae over the situation."

The woman sighed and nodded. She took one of the others at her workstation to the side. They exchanged a quick shorthand dialog before she came back over to Brenda. "My name's Susan, give me the stasis loop and I will see to the children's needs immediately. By the way, you should check in with your office. Mae none to gently referred most of the business your way."

Brenda held out her hand waiting for Ulu to put the physical manifestation of the stasis loop in her hand. When it appeared she handed it to Susan. Then she left the office. "Break it to me Ulu, how many emails and messages do I have pending?"

"You so don't want to know…"


* * *

Raen walked through the square, she had a delivery for the Sisters of Charity. Last night had been traumatic for her. It wasn’t the first time she saw a dead body, but it was the worst time. Her life felt a little emptier knowing Fred was gone. Raen had reported the bodies to the authorities. They responded with as much enthusiasm as they ever did for the street people. No one cared for the destitute of the city. The economy was so warped and twisted that packs of children begged on the streets for sustenance beneath the callous attitudes of the upper classes.

It wasn’t true that no one cared for the poor. Raen walked up to the front door of the Sister’s of Charity. Their order had chapters throughout the enormous city, all dedicated to feeding and clothing the lowest of the low. Raen had partaken of their charity for a substantial portion of her life. She had the wisdom to be grateful. That was what this delivery was for. As Fred’s legal heir, she had laid claim to all of his worldly possessions. They were crammed into two large duffle bags hoisted on Raen’s shoulders. Raen lowered one to ring the bell.

After a few moments, an acolyte came to the door, “How may our order be of service?”

“A friend of mine died and these are his clothes. I know you distribute them to the poor. He would want them to go to someone who needed them,” Raen stated. The smell of freshly baking nut bread tickled her nose and made her stomach growl.

The acolyte chuckled, “It sounds as though we could minister to your stomach in return.”

“I couldn’t. I just haven’t gotten around to eating yet today,” Raen stated lowering the second sack.

“Don’t be silly, this nutrient loaf isn’t just for the poor. We are baking extra for the city celebration of The Founding.”

“Still, I couldn’t.” Raen’s stomach growled again.

“Tomorrow is founding day. You can begin celebrating early.” The acolyte grabbed both duffles and managed to shepherd Raen into the building in just a few graceful moves. “Come to the kitchen. If you really feel bad about eating, you can help bake a batch.”

Raen didn’t know why she was allowing herself to be led deeper into the sisters’ compound, but she continued to follow the acolyte. Soon they reached the source of the incredibly appetizing smells. Raen had eaten nutrient loaf almost every day she had been alive. It made up the majority of her calories before the age of 12. For her, the nut bread was just everyday food. She watched the care and reverence the sisters put into producing the humble food.

“Every day our order produces thousands of loaves for the poor. We bake hundreds of thousands of loaves to celebrate Founder’s Day. Our ancestors discovered the ingredients for the loaves growing plentifully in the area around the landing field. They survived on nutrient loaf for much of the first winter. We still use the original recipe. We grind the nuts, grains, and herbs ourselves. There are chapters of our order that farm the ingredients on the edge of the city and provide them to all the baking chapters.”

One of the older women noticed Raen standing there and she rose from her place at the table. “You can come to knead the bread, it enhances the protein content.” She beckoned Raen over.

Raen followed instructions numbly. Soon she was seated at the table kneading bread. This was one of the first times she had ever attempted anything resembling cooking. The forceful repetitive motion settled her thoughts. Angrily she hit the dough. Why did Fred have to die? What was that creature in the alleyway? Who was it offering the reward for information? Raen noticed tears pouring down her face and blotted them with her sleeve. All the sisters had paused in their work and stared openly at her. Raen blushed. “I must have gotten some flour in my eyes.”

The older sister who had given up her seat to Raen laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Come with me, young woman.”

Raen nodded and tried to brush the dough and flour from her hands. The woman smiled and led her to the sink. Gently the woman washed Raen’s arms and hands as though she were a child. “You have suffered a serious loss. You must give yourself time to grieve.”

Raen blinked at her, “I have to find the creature that did this to him. It is about more than the reward for information. It is about finding out why.”

“You may never know the why of it. This world is full of mysteries. You must focus on solving the ones you can.”

“Like finding out who cares enough about the street people to offer a reward for the creature stalking them? It wasn’t your order was it?” Raen turned to face the woman.

“Our order is a charity. We cannot afford to offer rewards for anything though we do deeply care about the people and what is happening to them.”

“I didn’t think so. I should be going,” Raen pulled away.

“Wait, you helped with the baking, here is your reward,” The woman handed her three tightly wrapped nutrient loaves. “To celebrate The Founding.”

“To celebrate The Founding,” Raen accepted the bread and followed the woman back out of the compound. It was time to contact the person behind the reward. She had information for them, and questions.

Raen went back to the Baerd Guildhall. She had her messenger bag with affiliation pins prominently displayed, this time there was no issue with entry. She went straight to the bulletin board and searched out the notice she had seen yesterday. She pulled a notepad from her messenger bag and scrawled out the contact information. Then she went to the lounge area of the main hall and sat in one of the comfortable overstuffed chairs. She pulled out her com device and tapped in the contact info. Then she dialed. After a long pause, a face lit up on the tiny screen. "Miranda here."

Raen took a deep breath, "Miranda, I am calling about your notice posted in the Baerd Guild main hall. The one about the creature stalking street children."

"Yes, do you have any useful information?"

Raen remembered last night and for a moment the healed scratch on her chest itched, "Yes, I saw the creature last night. I think I scared it off its killing spree."

Miranda chuckled, "I get several calls a day claiming to have seen the creature. You are one of the first that swears they have scared it off. What did it look like?"

Raen thought back, "Okay so, saw isn't precisely the description for what happened. I don't know how to explain it. I accidently flicked off my flashlight and I saw a ghostly, aura of what I can only describe as a hellhound. Teeth, claws, it was huge. She confronted me and scratched my chest, and then asked me if I could see it. Like I shouldn't be able to. Maybe she clawed me after she spoke? Anyway the wound healed and she remarked on it being curious."

"I believe you." Those were the last three words Raen expected to hear from this stranger. "We should meet, you can show me where it scratched you, and I can give you your reward for the information."

"I have some time tomorrow…" Raen stated, suddenly hesitant.

"No, I need to move quickly on this. Do you know where Kastavari's is?"

Raen blanched. Kastavari's was only the most exclusive and expensive restaurant in the city. It was far from the district where the creature had been operating. Anyone patronizing that establishment wouldn't care less about street people. Miranda must work there, and be asking to meet outside. "Yes, I make deliveries of delicacies to their loading docks periodically. I could meet there."

"Come around front, I will have a man waiting to escort you to my table. He'll have a sign with your name on it. By the way what is your name?"

"Raen, Davis."

"I'll see you in half an hour?"

Raen's gut turned sour. Something deep inside told her to refuse the meeting.

"I'll have your chits ready."

Raen swallowed past the churning feeling in her gut, "I can be there in forty-five minutes. I know shortcuts."

Miranda's image nodded at her and then the tiny screen went black. Raen tucked away her com device and began the walk to the restaurant. She was actually very close to the restaurant. She could be there in five minutes, but she wanted to leave word with Ferguson, in case. Raen went to the banking counter and gestured for one of the attendants. "Excuse me, I need to leave a message for Janie Ferguson. Tell her Raen is investigating a shady situation and if she doesn't hear from me to start an investigation." The attendant copied down the message and held out a hand. Raen placed a quarter chit on the attendant's palm. Then she headed for the restaurant. She reached it within five minutes and staked out the front, waiting for the man with a sign to appear. She didn't have to wait long. A car pulled up and a hairy attendant got out and helped a well-dressed woman wearing all black out of the back seat. She shook off his assistive arm and handed him a sign in a backhandedly casual way. Then she entered the restaurant.

The man stood there holding the sign with Raen's name misspelled yet clearly printed on it. He didn't look happy about the duty. Raen wondered if he had crawled up to his position from the streets as she had. No, she thought he would probably show more gratitude for the job. She watched the man for some time, waiting until her promised arrival time before coming out onto the street in front of the restaurant. Normally the only way Raen could even think of eating from Kastavari's was if she waited in line for them after closing, for them to discard leftovers. Even then she would have to dip into her savings.

Raen stepped up to the man who managed to be both excessively hairy and well-groomed. She walked up to him and pointed at his sign, "That's me."

He eyed her like he was attempting to look through her, "My mistress waits inside. Please follow me." He led her through the landscaped mini courtyard into the builiding through the ornate central archway. Lesser guests used the side doors.

Who was Raen meeting with? And why did she give two flips about the poorest of the poor?

Raen followed the man through the public area. They passed a group of people rising from their meal. A woman dressed in a dark gray dress sprayed perfume in Raen's general area, practically clogging the air with it. Raen couldn't help from coughing and gagging at it. "Well, as if you would know an expensive perfume!" The woman huffed and tucked the aerosol sprayer back into her handbag.

Raen wrinkled her nose, the "perfume" couldn't have been all that expensive, Raen couldn't detect an ounce of teeg musk in it. Raen knew teeg musk, she had doused herself with it once to save Jayden Baerd. It seemed strange that a woman eating at this restaurant could be so mistaken about the quality of her own perfume. The man leading Raen turned down a hallway to one of the elegant private dining rooms in the back. He stopped outside of a room reserved for economic royalty and knocked twice.

"Let her in." The door slid open and Raen entered the dining room. The woman sat reclining on the floor. An array of dishes littered the table. The smell made Raen's mouth water. "Please young lady, take a seat. You may try some of that if you would like." Miranda gestured at the plates on the low table. Hesitantly, Raen lowered herself onto a cushion. The idea of eating anything this woman offered her actually turned her stomach. She didn't know why. "So, tell me more about the creature."

"It was large. Its head came up to my chest on all fours. What's really weird is that the creature seemed like a dog but its claws were evidently retractable like a cat."

"You said you saw a ghostly aura? Can you describe it better than that?"

Raen hesitated something about this woman just felt wrong. "Why are you offering a reward for this information. What do you get out of it?"

"I worry about the children. I see them begging on the street. I wish I could do more for them. When I heard they were being slaughtered I had to try to help. Do you think you could find this creature again?" The woman's words sounded sincere but rang false in Raen's gut.

"I can try."

"Then let me give you something that will subdue it and make it easier to capture." The woman reached into a bag on the floor next to her she pulled out a capped hypodermic needle filled with a color-shifting pearlescent liquid. Inject as much as you can. It will neutralize some of the creature's abilities. When you inject it the device will signal me to your location and my people will be there shortly to capture the creature before it can slaughter any more children."

Raen accepted the needle and put it in her messenger bag. "She said her claws usually kill. Are you sure your people can handle that?"

"They will have further tranquilizers, it shouldn't be an issue."

"I will look for her tonight."

"How may I ask are you so sure this creature is female?"

"I don't know, anatomy, and she sounds female."

Miranda chuckled, "Okay, just asking. I'll have Booker show you out." The door slid open and the man who had held the sign stood on the other side waiting to walk her out. Raen followed him out. Outside the restaurant, she removed the needle from her messenger bag and looked at it. She wasn't sure she would use it but she had it in case. Now, it was time to plan her search for tonight.


* * *

Beaoul scented the air. The scent of the aerosol sprayer the operatives used for infecting the street children wafted down from an alley down the street. She clawed at the cobblestones beneath her paws. Then she stalked silently towards the alley. The children were sleeping quietly in the alley. Several of them shivered against the cold and snuggled closer together. Hesitantly she lifted a paw. She had to do it. These poor children could kill thousands, if not millions. Beaoul extended her claws. Suddenly she felt a sharp pain between her shoulders She spun to see the woman from the other night, in her hand was an empty hypodermic needle. "What in the hell!"

The woman jumped back, "I couldn't let you kill those children!"

A wave of dizziness washed over Beaoul. "They are already dead. They have been infected with a virulent pathogen. They are going to die horrible deaths if I don't kill them now, and they will take thousands with them as soon as they become contagious!"

"That's why you're killing them?"

"I am not a monster! I don't want to kill them. I don't know how else to spare them the pain and save the rest of this planet." Beaoul sat heavily. She looked at her front paws and noticed she could see them like normal. That was unfortunate. With a little focus, she restored her invisibility. "What is your name?"

"Raen, I'm not sure why I should trust you or believe you!"

"My name is Beaoul." She focused on lifting the key from where it hung around her neck with her mind. The key didn't even wiggle. Her abilities were being suppressed by whatever had been in that needle. That was less than fortunate. How did this woman get her hands on something that could suppress her abilities? That was a valid question that needed to be asked. She narrowed her eyes and spoke. "Who gave you that needle."

"A woman offering a reward for information on who or what was killing the children. Her name was Miranda."

Beaoul scoffed. "Mira maybe. You have been taken in by the Queen of Lies. I am not the villain here. She is evil incarnate. She created the disease and she wants me stopped so that the disease will spread and wipe out the population of this planet. Didn't it make you suspicious that she was offering a reward for the murderer of what this world considers throw away people?"

"These children aren't throw away people!"

Beaoul held up her right front paw. "I don't consider them throw away people! Every living soul has value. I would say even Mira does if she had a soul..."

The woman eyed her suspiciously. It made Beaoul double-check that her invisibility was holding. It was.

"We should get out of here, Mira said injecting you would tell her where we are."

"Of course. Now if we are going to escape. You need me and unfortunately, because of that needle I need you."

"What difference does the needle make? It is just a sedative..."

"No, before you injected me with that crap I could do anything you can do, now I am physically and psychically impaired."

Beaoul checked out both ends of the alley. She regretted that her telepathic sense had been deadened. Instead, she scented the air. The distinct scent of the dark compound wafted her way from beyond the far end of the alley. She started to retreat on her own, but she realized that this woman was in as much danger as she was. "Follow me! If you'll trust me I will get us out of this..." Beaoul set off at a brisk pace in the opposite direction of the dark operatives. She didn't even look back to see if the woman followed her.
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