The Lost Goats, 51
Aug. 3rd, 2012 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
avevale_intelligencer(okay, so much for the stages of recovery... :))
Soren opened his eyes. They screamed protestingly inside his head, and that set up echoes all the way down his spine, but his head was clear. Cruelly so. Memories slid grindingly into place, and each one flayed a layer from his soul.
"Zan?" he croaked.
"Lie still, flower," said a voice; cool, female, accented. "You need to--"
Soren forced the rusty girders of his bones to bend and caught hold of the arm in front of him. "Where...is...Zander?" he ground out.
"Soren, stop molesting the nursing staff." He recognised the gruff voice as Cesar's. "You're recovering from a nasty case of poisoning. Zander had to get antidote formula. Not back yet."
"Why...not?"
"If you let go of my arm," the cool voice said, with a slight edge, "we'll tell you everything."
So Soren lay back and listened as An and Cesar brought him up to date.
"When we got the formula, we quickly cooked up a batch and tested it on you. We don't know what the side-effects will be yet, so sorry about that, but so far indications are good." An smiled. "You've been out for five days total."
"Five days?"
"Not been idle," Cesar said reassuringly. "Galen's been organising the investiture of Ridding-Goat. Got the Vigil more interested in this Snood chap than they are in us, don't ask me how."
"When did...Zan leave?"
"Three days ago," Cesar said.
"I think he may have thought it would take longer to secure the planet than it did," An suggested.
"So," Soren said laboriously, "you haven't heard from Zander in three days."
"No," An said. "Is that unusual?"
"Right," Soren said, raising himself painfully on one elbow, Various tubes and wires were attached to his body; he began removing them one by one.
"Oh, nonono sweetie, you can't do that," An said. Soren brushed her (gently) aside.
"Sorry," he said wearily, getting to his feet. "I'm sure you mean well and all, but the fact is the short-brained dollop has got himself in schtuck again and it's down to me to get him out. Clothes, I need clothes."
"You sure do," An breathed. "I mean, uh, sorry." Her halo, which had briefly flickered red, blazed golden again. "I'll get them."
"Not responsible for consequences," Cesar said gruffly. "Understand, though. Be careful."
"Am I cured now?"
"Far as we can tell. No trace of the muck in your system, attempts to reinfect unsuccessful. No guarantees, though. Residual effects highly possible."
"Fair enough." Soren dressed with all the agility and grace of a Tervalian muckpore beast stricken with galloping ossification. "I'll need a ship."
"Use mine," Cesar said. "Try not to bend it."
"What are you going to do?" An said.
"In order," Soren said, walking away, "find Zan; get him out; find Snood; and put a stop to him. One way or another."
Soren opened his eyes. They screamed protestingly inside his head, and that set up echoes all the way down his spine, but his head was clear. Cruelly so. Memories slid grindingly into place, and each one flayed a layer from his soul.
"Zan?" he croaked.
"Lie still, flower," said a voice; cool, female, accented. "You need to--"
Soren forced the rusty girders of his bones to bend and caught hold of the arm in front of him. "Where...is...Zander?" he ground out.
"Soren, stop molesting the nursing staff." He recognised the gruff voice as Cesar's. "You're recovering from a nasty case of poisoning. Zander had to get antidote formula. Not back yet."
"Why...not?"
"If you let go of my arm," the cool voice said, with a slight edge, "we'll tell you everything."
So Soren lay back and listened as An and Cesar brought him up to date.
"When we got the formula, we quickly cooked up a batch and tested it on you. We don't know what the side-effects will be yet, so sorry about that, but so far indications are good." An smiled. "You've been out for five days total."
"Five days?"
"Not been idle," Cesar said reassuringly. "Galen's been organising the investiture of Ridding-Goat. Got the Vigil more interested in this Snood chap than they are in us, don't ask me how."
"When did...Zan leave?"
"Three days ago," Cesar said.
"I think he may have thought it would take longer to secure the planet than it did," An suggested.
"So," Soren said laboriously, "you haven't heard from Zander in three days."
"No," An said. "Is that unusual?"
"Right," Soren said, raising himself painfully on one elbow, Various tubes and wires were attached to his body; he began removing them one by one.
"Oh, nonono sweetie, you can't do that," An said. Soren brushed her (gently) aside.
"Sorry," he said wearily, getting to his feet. "I'm sure you mean well and all, but the fact is the short-brained dollop has got himself in schtuck again and it's down to me to get him out. Clothes, I need clothes."
"You sure do," An breathed. "I mean, uh, sorry." Her halo, which had briefly flickered red, blazed golden again. "I'll get them."
"Not responsible for consequences," Cesar said gruffly. "Understand, though. Be careful."
"Am I cured now?"
"Far as we can tell. No trace of the muck in your system, attempts to reinfect unsuccessful. No guarantees, though. Residual effects highly possible."
"Fair enough." Soren dressed with all the agility and grace of a Tervalian muckpore beast stricken with galloping ossification. "I'll need a ship."
"Use mine," Cesar said. "Try not to bend it."
"What are you going to do?" An said.
"In order," Soren said, walking away, "find Zan; get him out; find Snood; and put a stop to him. One way or another."