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Fourteen
(08/22/06 1540 Kingston, Tropic League)
The streets of Kingston were almost deserted, with only a few people furtively scurrying through the avenues on errands that had to be completed before they rushed home. They studiously avoided Caradoc and his group, moving to the opposite side of the street if they had to pass directly by them. Thanks to the Red Plague, any place that was inhabited would probably have a low population density, but this was different. Caradoc could feel that the air was heavy with fear and buried menace. Out of the corners of his eyes he could see curtains twitch as people hidden from view watched them pass deeper into town.
It made his pokegirls uneasy too. Veronica was on high alert and only a curt word from her tamer had kept her from being in full armor. As it was, her sword hung from her belt and she periodically caught herself holding her left arm across her body as if she had her shield.
Shima’s head tried to swivel in all directions simultaneously and she held Winona’s onbuhimo close to her chest with one hand protectively over their daughter. Since everything they needed to bring fit inside a single backpack, they’d hidden the saddle and she’d changed back to her bipedal form for convenience. Now she wore the backpack like she was a hiker.
Naomi kept so close to Bishop that she occasionally bumped into him if he paused for too long. Although she kept her bow on her shoulder and she looked relaxed, tension almost visibly radiated from her. He could also feel that same tension coming from that strange place inside him. If they were actually forming a delta bond, for the most part he’d welcome it gladly. However, in spite of everything his twee could do, right now it was giving him a throbbing headache.
“You there, stop and identify yourself immediately.” The voice came from above them and Caradoc looked up to see a man and a pokegirl watching them from a rooftop. The pokegirl was short and delicate, with feathered wings instead of arms. She was a dirty white with black feathers on her face and head and she cocked her head to watch them in a gesture eerily reminiscent of the seagulls he’d seen around Falmouth.
That is a divette.
Caradoc cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled back. “I am looking for the TLCF headquarters here! I was sent from Montego and I was informed that I would be expected!”
The man raised a radio and spoke into it. Other than the cafeteria guards in Montego Bay this was the first handheld radio he’d seen since coming to Jamaica and it suggested that Kingston had greater resources than he’d suspected. The man lowered the radio and yelled once more. “What is your name?”
“Caradoc Bishop!”
The man pointed farther south. “You stay on this road and go that way! In about a mile you’ll run across another sentry post and he’ll give you further instructions!”
“Thanks!” Bishop motioned to his harem and proceeded down the road.
Shima glanced at him as he walked alongside her. “Sir, how are we going to proceed?”
“The medicine we picked up isn’t really a broad spectrum antibiotic, like Jordan thinks it is. Instead it is a general curative that will repair any virus, bacteria or chemical related damage to the body for about a year after it’s administered. While it does work on just about anything, it can be fine tuned to be especially effective if a blood sample is analyzed before use. So I’d like to get some blood samples from the people involved and test them before starting treatment.”
“How does it work?”
“There’s a spray applicator that you press against the skin and trigger to administer the dose. It’s very simple to operate and normal policy is to administer the curative to a group of healthy people and train them to use the applicators before turning them lose to start working their way through the population.”
“No, sir, I want to know how the curative works, not how to use it.”
Caradoc blinked. “Oh.” He shrugged. “I have no idea. I’m afraid that medicine has never interested me as a career path.”
Veronica paused. “Sir, I think that the next sentry post is set up in the three story building ahead and to the left.” She glanced back at him. “We’ve walked about a mile and there’s a beach umbrella on the roof of it.”
Naomi snorted. “It is kind of a giveaway. Sloppy.”
Caradoc stopped and cupped his hands again. “Hello! I’m Bishop!”
A cunningly concealed door opened in the side of a small water tank on the building next to the one with the beach umbrella on it and a head peered out. “It’s good to see you! You are to go west down this street here.” The man pointed. “The hospital will be another two miles down the road. Check in with the receptionist for further instructions.”
Naomi watched him duck back inside and close the door with a look of chagrin. “So the umbrella is just a lure. I take back what I said. That’s pretty clever.”
Veronica nodded. “A flock of flying pokegirls would still be too much for the sentry to handle, but if he’s got a radio like the first sentry did, he can call for aid before revealing his presence.”
The hospital was a fairly modern looking building and Caradoc headed straight for the front door, which was plastered with signs. He paused to read them. Most of them were the same and reminded people that for the duration of the crisis there was a mandatory city wide curfew from dusk to dawn. It also advised that families with sick members be quarantined in their homes while the authorities were notified and that violating this rule would be dealt with promptly and harshly.
‘Ladies, stay close. Veronica?” The valkyrie looked up. “Let go of your sword hilt.” She flushed crimson and let the weapon go. “Thank you.” Caradoc blinked in surprise when he stepped up to the doors and they slid open. “Someone has electricity to waste,” he muttered as he headed inside.
The receptionist was a stout black woman wearing surgical scrubs and a mask. Suspicious eyes watched him through the safety glasses that apparently she hoped would add to her protection. Her voice was muffled. “What do you want?” She glanced at the pokegirls behind him. “They can’t come in here.”
Caradoc stopped. “Oh can’t they? Very well, Shima, give me the backpack.” As the nightmare obediently shrugged out of the pack he turned back to the receptionist. “Tell the Kingston TLCF commander that this was delivered by Caradoc Bishop as instructed by Commander Jordan in Montego Bay. It’s the curative that Commander Jordan negotiated with Haven to provide. There aren’t any instructions on how to use the equipment, but I’m sure he’s a bright boy and can figure it out. Good luck with the plague.” The receptionist jumped backwards out of her chair as he took the backpack and slammed it on her receptionist’s counter. “My job is done. Good day.” He turned towards the door.
“Wait!” The receptionist stared at him with wide eyes. “You can’t just leave that here!”
“I will not go where my women aren’t welcome. You’re on your own.”
The woman scrambled for the telephone on her counter. “Let me contact administration! You can talk to the director!”
Caradoc gave her an icy look. “We’ll be outside.” He made a show of checking his watch. “If I haven’t spoken to anyone in a position of authority in five minutes, I will leave.” He looked up. “You have three hundred seconds from now.” Spinning on his heel, he led his pokegirls outside. Finding a shady spot, he leaned against the hospital wall and folded his arms.
Naomi looked at him worriedly. “Are you serious about leaving?”
“I am. I didn’t want to get involved with this in the first place and I’m not willing to play their petty power games just because they say so. What’re they going to do, fire me as the administrator of Falmouth?”
Three minutes passed and Caradoc looked up when the doors slid open and a tall, slender man came out and looked at him. “Tamer Bishop?”
“That’s Administrator Bishop.”
The man nodded slightly in apology. “Administrator, Commander Van Der Haegen would like you and your harem to come meet with him. He’d like you to instruct him and his staff on how to use the dispensers for the medicine you’ve delivered. He’s sorry about the misunderstanding with the receptionist and your pokegirls are more than welcome to come inside.”
“May I ask who you are, sir?”
The man smiled. “I’m Captain Van Der Haegen.”
Caradoc pushed away from the wall. “Lead on, sir.”
Inside, the receptionist stared at them with sullen eyes as they passed. Caradoc noted briefly that the backpack was gone from the receptionist’s station as Captain Van Der Haegen led them to the elevator.
As he pushed the button for the sixth floor, the captain looked at Bishop. “Are you aware of the situation here?”
“Not really. I run the radio relay from Bog Walk to Montego and know what’s passed on shortwave, but I’ve suspected that there’s a separate courier system for sensitive messages.”
The captain smiled at him. “That’s a very astute observation and quite correct.” His smile died. “The commander has contracted the plague as well and he’s very sick. I hesitate to ask for personal favors, but please help my father.”
“I’ll have to draw a sample of his blood and that of a couple of other plague victims, but I believe that the curative will do the job properly.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t let myself hope until I see him getting better.”
Caradoc nodded. “The commander has to verify that I actually delivered the drugs before Commander Jordan will pay me. Letting him die would make that kind of difficult.”
The captain chuckled softly. “It would indeed.” The elevator doors opened and he stepped out. The hallway was lit with electricity, but it was still dim because every other light bulb had been removed. Bishop wasn’t sure if it was to save power or to conserve the almost irreplaceable bulbs.
Commander Van Der Haegen tiredly watched them enter his hospital room. He had the usual assortment of monitors attached to various portions of his anatomy and an IV bag was hooked into his arm. The backpack stood in a corner with an armed guard nearby.
The captain saluted. “Sir, this is Tamer Caradoc Bishop.”
“Thank you, Brett.” The commander turned his attention to Caradoc. “Tamer Bishop, I want to thank you for aiding us in this desperate time. Hopefully the medicine you’ve brought will bring an end to this nightmare. As you can see, I’ve fallen prey to the same illness that’s running rampant through my city. Please start your aid with me so I can return to governing them properly instead of from this damnable bed.”
“Shima, get the pack, please.” Caradoc moved over to the bed as Naomi and Veronica took up positions on either side of the door. “What kind of treatment have you been getting?”
Commander Van Der Haegen motioned to his arm. “They’ve been keeping me hydrated. According to them, that’s all they can do for anyone.”
Shima touched her tamer on the back. “I’m here, master,” she said softly.
Caradoc turned around and took the pack from her. “Thanks.” He opened it and pulled out a small case that rested on top of everything else in the pack. He flipped up a cover on the case to reveal a data port. Pulling his pokedex from his belt, he pulled out the optical cable and plugged it into the case. He unlatched the side of the case as the pokedex synched up with the case. “This is an analyzer that I’ll be using to test the blood sample I need to take. I want to get a better idea of what I’ll be up against so I can adjust the curative if it needs it.” He looked into Van Der Haegan’s eyes. “Just for the record, you did not purchase the analyzer and I’m not authorized to sell it to you.”
The commander raised an eyebrow. “I could take it from you.”
“My pokedex has a genetic lockout on it so I’m the only one who can operate it. In any case, Haven put a self destruct into the analyzer. It’ll destroy itself in 200 hours and there’s no way I can stop it. It’s my understanding that they’ll be designing a model that they will be willing to export in the next couple of months.”
“I’ve been told nothing about a genetic lockout on the pokedexes you sold us.” The commander wheezed and began coughing. His son pulled out a handkerchief and wiped up the yellow sputum that the commander produced.
Caradoc pulled a small cylinder from the case. “Oh, it’s there. It’s just not activated since you don’t have the equipment to perform a complete DNA analysis or program the security system. When you get the analyzers, you’ll be able to do that to the units you send into the field. If you do, it’ll mean that the Black Rivers can’t use any they capture.” He held up the cylinder. “This is a sampler. I’m going to put it against your arm and it’ll take a blood sample. It’s supposed to be painless.”
“Do it.”
Bishop pressed the end of the cylinder against the commander’s inner wrist. Upon contact, powerful sensors in the sampler came online and performed a detailed scan of the material underneath it. From this scan the analyzer could determine just about all the medical information on the subject as well as workup a complete DNA profile. Upon detecting an unknown pathogen, it generated a microscopic force field tube that it used to carefully force the cells in the commander’s arm apart and withdraw a tiny bit of his blood that contained a representative sample of the pathogen. Then the force field died, allowing the cells to return to their former positions without any damage. This sampling system would take a sample from any known material up to and including density enhanced diamond and was one of the reasons the analysis case and the sampler would self destruct in the near future. As Bishop lifted the sampler from the arm, the preliminary analysis of the pathogen was already complete and by the time he slipped the sampler back into the case, the DNA profile of the unknown was finished and the sampler had cleaned itself in preparation for its next use.
The case took the information and began building a profile of the pathogen along with a probable series of results of interactions with various life forms found on this world.
The result of all of this was that by the time Caradoc had finished putting the sampler back in the case, his pokedex made a soft chiming noise. He put the case on the bed and picked it up, flipping rapidly through the display. Another reason that the unit wouldn’t be offered for sale was the fact that it hadn’t been reprogrammed to use English instead of Tirsuli and he found it amusing that it took him a moment to get back into the flow of his native tongue.
According to the analyzer, Commander Van Der Haegen was in late middle age and had an iron deficiency. There were blood markers indicating he was suffering from arthritis and his cholesterol was a bit above normal. He had been under moderate to heavy stress on a regular basis for a long period of time and his immune system was slightly suppressed due to this. There was a bunch of other information that Caradoc skimmed through for a moment before shaking his head and sending a thought at his twee. Find me the information on what he’s sick from.
Just a moment. I’ll also make a note to send back to Haven to have them set up the trade ready units with enough flexibility to screen out the standard stuff for non-routine exams.
The screen changed and filled with the blood work results. The information was accompanied by graphic representations of the DNA of the virus and bacteria involved. It turned out that Commander Van Der Haegen was suffering from a severe form of influenza that was acerbated by an aggressive strain of pneumonia that would be lethal in roughly ten percent of the humans who contracted the illness.
The profile indicated that pokegirls would have a natural resistance to the diseases and less than one percent of them would contract the illness. It also stated that Caradoc couldn’t catch the disease no matter his level of exposure.
As he read on, his progress through the data activated the DNA images and they flashed in certain segments to showcase what he was reading. According to the DNA profiles, both the influenza virus and the pneumonia bacteria shared several important factors that enhanced their ability to work together, making it almost certain that anyone coming down with this strain of influenza would proceed to develop pneumonia as well.
An additional report indicated that both the virus and the bacteria shared neutral genetic markers similar to the types used in genetic engineering to monitor whether or not gene splicing had succeeded and to make sure it happened in the right place. This suggested that both the virus and the bacteria had been artificially modified to work together more efficiently on humans as well as to limit their effectiveness on non-humans.
Currently, only Haven is capable of this level of sophistication in genetic engineering. However, these are very crude in comparison to that which a Tirsuli genengineer would create. Tirsuli would have made a completely synthetic virus and bacteria to ensure there was no deviation from the desired results. However, letting them know that Haven could do this would only frighten them unnecessarily. Trying to reassure them that Alexandria would have to be involved and that Selene’s protocols would make her refuse to work on biological warfare agents is unlikely to prove successful.
There was one final notation to the reports, and it was the one that Caradoc was the most interested in. Evaluation suggested a minor modification to the curative that could be done with on hand resources. He told the analyzer to transmit the modifications to the drug containers and looked up.
“You’ve got a nasty case of the flu that’s turned into pneumonia, but the curative I’ve got will fix you right up.” He put the analyzer down and pulled a dispenser from the backpack. “Ok, captain, you’ll want to see this.” He held it up as Captain Van Der Haegan hurried over. “If you’ll notice on the back, there’s a digital display that shows a number.”
“It says fifty.”
“That’s the number of doses in the dispenser. A full dispenser has fifty doses in it. Everyone gets one dose, starting with the people who are going to be administering the curative to the sick. Any more than that and you’re just wasting the curative. Extra doses do not make it work any faster and do not make it work any better. You will want to dose everyone, since you can’t be sure who is currently incubating the virus. The pointed end in front of the trigger is the nozzle.” He touched the soft end of the nozzle. “This is a standard jet injector which uses nitrogen to deliver the dose beneath the skin. Variants of this kind of injector have been around for over forty years. When the unit is empty, you can keep it for later refilling or discard it. It’s made of a biodegradable material that will break down in a decade.” He pressed the nozzle against the side of Commander Van Der Haegan’s throat. “You want to do this over a major artery or vein to maximize the speed at which the curative is dispersed throughout the body. Ready, commander?”
“Do it.”
Bishop pressed the trigger. There was a soft click and the counter changed to 49. “That’s all there is to it. The commander needs to rest overnight and he should start feeling better in about an hour.” He turned, pressed the dispenser nozzle against the captain’s upper arm and activated it. “Ok, you’re good now.” He flipped the dispenser around and offered it, trigger first, to the surprised captain. “Start with the guard in the corner and then move on to the medical staff. I was serious when I meant everyone here gets a dose. The flu your father has will kill around ten percent of the untreated populace. I’ve got 1000 dispensers, so you’ve currently got 49,998 doses. Pokegirls don’t really need a dose, but since you’ve got so few of them I’d give it to them anyway to ensure they’re not carriers. And before you get me with that thing, my harem and I have already been dosed.”
“Why don’t you do the medical staff while I keep an eye on my father?”
“Presumably they know you and aren’t likely to argue with you when you tell them they’re first in line. I’m not interested in listening to their ‘I’m too busy, come back later’ and I’d probably just have Veronica grab them and hold them down while I injected them. Then they’ll come and complain to you anyway.”
The captain gave a chuckle and looked surprised when his father echoed it. “Father?”
“Go start the process and take Henry with you. I’ll be safe with Administrator Bishop and his lovely ladies.”
Naomi cocked her head. “Sir, why don’t you have a pokegirl?”
The commander smiled slightly. “What is your name?”
She blinked and glanced at the captain as he injected the guard. “Naomi, sir.”
“Well, Naomi, it’s because I had prostate cancer before the war and the surgery left me impotent.”
“I’m sorry for bringing it up, sir.”
“That’s ok. I’ve come to terms with it.”
Captain Van Der Haegan shook his head. “Don’t look at me, I’m gay and there are no boy pokegirls.”
Caradoc smiled. “There’s the dildoqueen. She’s a pokegirl with a penis. Some of them are hermaphroditic, but others have no female genitalia.”
The captain looked surprised. “I’ve never heard of them. In any case, I’m in a committed relationship.”
He took the backpack and started to usher the guard out in front of him until Naomi stepped in front of him. “That’s a pokepack. Let me show you how it works before you leave.” Quickly she demonstrated how to release more dispensers and then returned them to the pack. “There you go, sir.”
The captain eyed her for a moment. “Thank you.” He took the pack back and released a dispenser, which he handed to the guard. “Come along, Henry. We’ve got people to treat.” He looked at Bishop. “Mr. Bishop, will this drug interfere with other medications that a patient may be taking?”
“No, it won’t. Since it will cure them, you’ll want to stop giving them anything else, if only to save your stocks.”
“I’ll let the staff know about that.” He waved at Henry to follow him as he left the room.
“What will you do now, administrator?”
Bishop snorted. “We both know that’s just a formality. Immediately after all of this is over, I’ll be replaced just as soon as the new administrator can get to Falmouth.”
“I wasn’t aware that you knew.”
He shrugged. “I’ll be happy to get back to my farm, although I’d really like someone to take that damned radio off my hands. Politics doesn’t suit me.” He packed up the analyzer and put it into his backpack.
“All life has politics.”
“Sir, with all due respect, it doesn’t have to. You’ll need people at the stations you’ll probably set up to help with the injections. I and my harem will end up at one of them until this is taken care of and then we’ll go home.”
The commander started coughing and it got progressively worse as Bishop helped him to sit upright. Finally he produced a huge clump of greenish-yellow phlegm into the handkerchief. He leaned back with a sigh of relief. “I feel like I’m breathing better. Is that your drugs?” His voice was noticeably stronger.
“They’re Haven’s drugs and yes, more than likely it is. I’m just the delivery service and I won’t take credit or blame where it isn’t due.”
“You are an unusual fellow, Bishop.”
“I certainly seem to be that way, commander.”
“See Brett about where he can use you. You’re right in your idea that we’ll be setting up stations to deliver the medicine. We’ve already established some of them, but we’ll need to set up more so we can cycle the people through quickly.”
(08/22/06 2030 Kingston, Tropic League)
“Should I knock, sir?”
“Go ahead, Veronica, just remember that we don’t want to break their door this time, so not quite so hard.”
“Yes master. I think I know a way to keep that from happening.”
“Then proceed.”
The valkyrie stepped up and hammered her armored fist on the door frame. Dust flew from the frame and the side of the building, but the frame held. “Open up in the name of the Tropic League!”
“You’re still hitting too hard and we really need to find something else for you to say. That’ll probably scare people more than anything else.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Sorry sir. I’ll do better at the next house.”
Naomi looked at Shima and chuckled. “What about announcing that we’re the medical service?”
The nightmare shrugged as she kept watch. “I don’t see what’s wrong with what Veronica said.”
There was the sound of locks being disengaged and a frightened looking woman opened the door. “What is the matter,” she stammered.
Caradoc stepped forward. “I’m sorry about that; Veronica is still a bit enthusiastic.” He held up the dispenser where the woman could see it. “I’ve got medicine for everyone here, compliments of the league.”
The woman stared at the dispenser for several seconds before speaking in a voice that sounded afraid to hope. “You’ll make my family better?”
“That’s the idea, but first we’ll start with you.” He took her hand, turned it over and pressed the dispenser against her wrist. She jumped when it clicked and jumped again when he painted her wrist with a dab of permanent ink. “Ok, I need to give this to everyone in the house. Do not try to wash that off, it’s a sign that you’ve been dosed.”
“Will you do our cat, too?”
“We’re not talking about a pokegirl, right?”
“No, she’s a real cat who weighs about six pounds.”
He shook his head. “Pets should be fine. They can’t carry the virus.”
She led them inside. The place looked like she’d been losing the battle against keeping it clean, she obviously hadn’t conceded the war. “My husband and my girls are all sick,” she said apologetically as he looked around. Taking up a small oil lamp, she headed towards the back of the house.
“I understand completely. Your family should be doing better tomorrow or at most the day after.”
The husband of the family was in bed, completely unconscious. He was dehydrated, cyanotic and obviously fighting to breathe. Even with the curative he may not live before it can help him. He needs oxygen.
Caradoc knew his twee was right. “Ok, we’ve got a small problem here, but I think we can do something about it.”
Naomi gave him a curious look. “What is it, sir?”
He dropped his voice as he watched the wife. “He may not live long enough to get better. His lungs aren’t getting him enough oxygen. What we’re going to do is give him the curative and then we’ll have to keep an eye on him until he’s better able to breathe on his own. I don’t suppose you know CPR, do you?” Her blank look was answer enough. “I guess I’ll have to do it. After I inject him, you’ll go with the lady of the house and treat her kids. Then we’ll see if she’ll take you and Veronica around to surrounding houses so they can be dosed. I’ll stay here and give CPR if needed.” He sighed. “See if she has something that I can use to aspirate him or this is going to get gross.”
(08/23/06 0730 Kingston, Tropic League)
Naomi touched her tamer on the shoulder and spoke in a low voice. “How is he?”
“It was close, but the worst appears to be over and it looks like he’s out of danger. His wife finally got too tired and fell asleep a couple of hours ago, but she knows he’ll be ok.” Caradoc rubbed his eyes. “What about you?”
“We treated most of the neighborhood. The ones that were left had already left for one of the treatment centers.”
“That’s good.” He rose to his feet. “Let’s go find someplace to get some breakfast. Where are the others?”
“Shima is outside and feeding Winona while Veronica is taking a morning flight to clear her head. We’ve all been up for over twenty four hours.”
He gave her a twisted grin. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” His grin became a chuckle when she smacked him lightly. “We’ll probably be here for a couple of more days, so we do need to start pacing ourselves. Let’s get everyone together, get breakfast and then find a place to sleep for a couple of hours before getting back to this.”
The elfqueen nodded. “I’ll be glad when you’re no longer an administrator and they can’t call you for errands like this one. It’s really none of our business.”
“I will too. The problem will be making sure we make my status as a tradesman stick or else we’ll always be running errands for them. That’s one of the reasons I really want to get rid of that radio.”
Bishop took her hand and led her outside. Shima trotted over as Naomi waved at the valkyrie soaring in tight circles around the block. The valkyrie banked and feathered in to a gentle landing in front of them, her wings vanishing as she stalled and dropped the last few feet.
Currently, Kingston’s population hovered around forty thousand persons, so they’d brought enough doses to cover everyone, with some extra for transients and pokegirls. The problem, of course, lay in making sure that each person received their dose. The idea of the permanent ink was the best that could be found in such a short time, and town criers had covered the area announcing what was to going to be done. The TLCF had made it mandatory that anyone challenged show their mark or they could be arrested and assessed any of a wide range of punitive fines.
The plague had brought the city to a halt and so volunteers were going from area to area giving out bread and jerked fish to those currently unable to fend for themselves, so it wasn’t surprising to see a cart with three people handing out food to a small crowd of locals.
Veronica turned to face the food cart as Caradoc and the others joined her. “Show me your marks!”
Hands shot up to show the blotches of ink as Caradoc winced. “We really need to work on that authoritarian attitude of hers.”
He glanced over the group as Veronica audibly did a count and blinked when a hand was outlined in blue. That ink is the wrong color. It’s close, but it isn’t a true match. It may be a forgery.
“It could be that they ran out and changed colors,” he muttered quietly. Naomi gave him a curious look and leaned closer. “My twee says one of the people there has a mark that’s the wrong color.”
Her head came around to stare intently at the group. “Which one?” She made a motion to Shima, who dropped behind them.
The blue spread to outline a woman. She was thin, with long brown hair and pale skin. She was wearing a green Bob Marley t-shirt, sandals and worn jeans. She’s the one. I’ve analyzed the inks in infrared and ultraviolet and it is not anything close to the ink used by the TLCF to mark people who have received the curative. She appears to be drifting towards the other side of the crowd.
“It’s the brunette in the Marley shirt and jeans. I think we need to investigate. She may be trying to leave by slipping out the other side of the group.”
Naomi nodded. “Veronica! Detain the brunette in the green t-shirt. She’s on the other side of the group!”
When the elfqueen yelled, the woman gave all of them a frightened look before bolting into a side street littered with trash and abandoned vehicles.
Knowing that she could accidentally kill with a hard shove, the valkyrie summoned her wings and leaped over the crowd with a powerful flap. Her snowy wings vanished as she hit the ground and raced forward to disappear in pursuit.
“Naomi, take Shima and get ahead of her. I’ll follow Veronica where it’s safe. Remember, don’t hurt her.” He trotted forward as his alpha nodded. The nightmare had already shifted to her centaur form and Naomi turned and slipped onto her back. Phasing, Naomi raced through the startled crowd and vanished into a wall before the humans could panic.
Caradoc jogged down the side road as he watched Veronica pause at an intersection and cast about for her quarry. An almost silent scraping noise to his right brought him to a halt as he turned to look. The woman they were seeking was emerging from beneath a pile of refuse and she gave him a startled look as he lunged forward and grabbed her arms. “Calm down. It’s ok; we just need to make sure you’ve been treated.” He raised his voice. “Veronica! Back here!”
His pokedex chimed softly. What the hell? She’s a pokegirl. An unknown pokegirl! Get away from her!
He let the woman go and backpedaled frantically as she leaned forward until they were face to face. Her lips pursed and she gently blew a cloud of violet vapor that surrounded his head.
Don’t inhale! Damn, too late.
Caradoc fell backwards as he went into convulsions. Yellow foam ran from his mouth and nose as his feet drummed on the pavement. Suddenly Veronica was there. She picked him up and ran down the street towards the cart. “Naomi! Naomi! Bishop’s down!”
She doesn’t know they were getting ahead to intercept. The twee overrode the controls on the pokedex at Caradoc’s waist and a mechanical voice bellowed from it. “Veronica! Naomi and Shima were getting ahead to stop the woman! Turn around right now and go the other way! Hurry! He can’t breathe!”
The valkyrie whirled in mid-step and pounded back up the street towards the intersection as Shima came out of the second floor of a house up ahead and stopped to look around her.
Veronica summoned her wings and blasted a feather shuriken up the street that passed underneath the nightmare and hammered the front of a home. Glass and stucco exploded outward to rain on the street. Shima whirled to face the direction the attack had come from and launched herself forward when the valkyrie screamed at her. “Bishop’s down!”
Naomi vaulted from Shima’s back and ran to them as the nightmare summoned her armor and began looking in all directions. She still cradled her daughter, who was silent and still as she sensed her mother’s distress.
The elfqueen knelt as Veronica put the still flailing Caradoc down and pressed her hands to his chest to hold him in place. “Rasapple pollen, now!” Her hands glowed as she tried to heal him.
The valkyrie fumbled with the belt pouch she wore and pulled out a small bottle. She unscrewed the top, revealing it was a travel salt shaker. “Here.”
Naomi grabbed it and shook it over her tamer, releasing a light yellow pollen that drifted down onto him. As it touched him, it vanished, absorbed into his body. He wheezed and stopped convulsing. He took deep breaths as Veronica used her shirt to wipe his face.
His alpha looked him over quickly. “I’m still not sure what you had, but the rasapple is helping. What happened to you?”
“It was the woman.” He rolled onto his side and coughed until he hacked up thick, deep purple phlegm. Finally he stopped. “We have to find her.”
“What did she do to you?”
“She’s an unknown pokegirl and if she can do that to me, we have to catch her before she does that to someone else.”
Caradoc Bishop - Tirsuli human
Naomi - elfqueen
Shima - nightmare
Veronica - valkyrie
Winona - nightmare pokekit