Sime~Gen Roleplaying: District Controller's Office Scenario
Episode #18: Primal Dance (4/13/99)
Arat has now gone three days without Beni, without word of when his Donor for transfer will arrive, and of course without Jeniard.
Arat is, therefore, quietly and thoroughly freaking out.
Arat is sitting in his office penning one of a rather extensive series of notes to Controller Neptude, asking what is going on and (by implication) what he could possibly have done to deserve this, most of which were never actually delivered and now reside in his trash basket.
Arat looks up, heart pounding suddenly, as somebody signals at his door.
Arat: "Enter!"
Flunky creeps into the office, thrusts a transfer assignment card in Arat's direction, and flees before it actually makes it into Arat's hand.
Arat stares after the fellow as the door slams, then goes around the desk to retrieve the card where it fell on the floor.
Arat reads the card and has to sit down. ~~~~~dismay doesn't even begin to cover it~~~~~
Prunida lugs a semiconscious Nick down the hall towards the Controller's office, augmenting slightly to manage the weight.
Prunida is reasonably certain that the finder's fee on Nick, much less his salary, will cover the expense of the extra selyn she's using.
Prunida is not sensitive enough to be terribly bothered by Nick's avalanche-derived bruises, or even his broken ankle, particularly since the Pen sedative has him so groggy that he doesn't truly register that he's hurting.
Arat can't believe he was assigned to Sosu Pylor, a man who not only under-rates him considerably, but who has carried a grudge for him ever since that incident at the Regional Controller's reception the year before.
Arat had not meant to make a fool out of the man, but conditions had been unbearable to begin with and his patience had simply snapped.
Arat is just beginning to absorb the full implications of his problem when he notices what is coming up the hall.
Arat jumps up and whips the door open.
Prunida zlins a high-order channel open an office door, and assumes she has reached her goal.
Prunida grunts her thanks as she carries Nick into the office and deposits him (not particularly carefully) on a convenient chair.
Nick sort of moans, then slumps back to unresponsiveness.
Prunida: Here. This is my grandson. He'll make a Donor for the Tecton now, once he's trained up.
Prunida: ~~ smug satisfaction ~~
Prunida pulls a paper from her shirt pocket and drops it on Arat's desk.
Prunida: You can send the finder's fee to me at this address. And his salary, too, once he's learned enough to earn one.
Arat's office door closes as the doorknob falls from his astonished fingers.
Arat: Who are you? Who is this man? [demands as he rushes to keep Nick from falling over and grabs the foot to keep the ankle from being pressed against the floor.]
Arat's transfer card flutters to the far corner of the office floor, forgotten.
Prunida: He's my grandson, like I said. Got caught in an avalanche a few days back, the one that took care of that rogue he was wasting himself on. If you can keep him, he's yours.
Prunida points a tentacle towards the paper on Arat's desk.
Prunida: Either way, I'm entitled to the finder's fee. ~~ mercenary determination ~~
Nick, even drugged semiconscious, responds automatically to Arat's presence by pulling the discomfort out of his field (more or less) and offering ~~ support ~~
Nick has had a lot of practice supporting Snake when semiconscious, usually due to lack of sleep in the past 48 hours.
Arat stares at her, then puts down Nick's foot carefully and gets up to examine the piece of paper.
Arat's manner is becoming a little more characteristically cold and precise as he recovers from his surprise.
Arat: Yes, very well.
Arat goes around his desk, sits down, and digs for the appropriate slip. Locating it, he fills it out with an amount equal to the standard finder's fee for a very good Donor candidate plus the bounty that has been set on Nick's capture.
Arat tears off the slip and hands it to her. "This may be redeemed in the bursar's office on the first floor."
Arat's expression and nager don't give away anything.
Nick moves restlessly as the distance between himself and Arat increases, and as Arat's attention focuses on getting rid of Prunida.
Nick: Snake?
Prunida takes the slip and looks at it. ~~ smug satisfaction ~~
Prunida: Send word to me when he actually manages to Qualify.
Prunida would hate to miss any of Nick's salary.
Prunida starts for the door.
Arat: Wait... what has become of his channel?
Prunida: [over her shoulder] Caught in the avalanche, and good riddance.
Prunida is, of course, speaking nothing but the complete truth, as she zlins it.
Prunida shuts the office door behind her and makes a beeline for the bursar's office.
Arat stares after her for a disbelieving moment, and then hastens to get up and go back to Nick's side for a more thorough zlin of the rogue Donor's condition. (Well, and of his high field, Farris grade nager.)
Nick's high field, Farris grade, somewhat Zeor-flavored nager takes on a more disciplined feel as he starts to throw off the drugs.
Nick is otherwise bruised and battered, but essentially repairable.
Arat finds himself in the unpleasant position of desperately desiring to sag against Nick's high quality support, and in fact being in no reasonable position to decline it, yet knowing full well it would be unacceptable to do so and furthermore, having the discipline, even in need, to stop himself from it.
Arat grimaces.
Arat's discipline does not, however, extend so far as to allow him to rush Nick to a treatment room, and the medical staff, immediately. Instead, he reaches out and touches one of the bruises, then slips into healing-mode.
Nick's nager responds strongly to the attention, adjusting itself to maximize Arat's efforts.
Nick's eyes open and blink groggily.
Nick: Snake? What happened? My leg hurts.
Arat is impressed, both by Nick's field work and by his doing it while in such condition.
Arat says nothing, while continuing to work on the bruises, very efficiently because of Nick's cooperation.
Nick finally manages to focus his eyes, or perhaps simply wakes up enough to recognize the subtle differences between Snake's and Arat's nagers.
Nick: You're not Snake. Where is she? And who are you?
Arat: My name is Arat. You've been injured.
Arat is no green rookie and knows better than to upset Nick uneccessarily at this stage. (Also, he is loathe to end the pleasant interaction, superficial though it is, with Nick's large, full-bodied and rich Farris-capable Gen nager.)
Nick blinks again.
Nick: I'd gathered that.
Nick notes Arat's Tecton uniform and immediately looks towards his worst-injured areas.
Nick is somewhat reassured to discover that his pants, while much the worse for wear (about four day's worth, at this point), are nonetheless still present. 1
Nick: Where are we? I didn't think there were any Farris channels in Cooter's Pass.
Nick would hate to discover that Snake's information was so far off as to neglect such important details as Farris-grade competition at a destination.
Nick would also hate to have to go into Snake-restraint mode to prevent the imminent demise of the trader Snake had been quizzing about possible towns requiring her services.
Arat: You're in Capitol City. You were brought here by your... [hesitates over the exact definition of Prunida's relationship with Nick, as described in his file, and what effect mentioning her might have on Nick's emotions at this point] ... rescuer.
Arat decides failing to mention one more detail would constitute deception. "I am Controller here."
Nick's nager withdraws just a fraction at the mention of the word "Controller".
Nick: And Snake? She was ahead of me when the hill went.
Nick's nager flattens at the memory, to avoid blasting Arat with his reaction.
Nick has no real comprehension, of course, that what Snake defines as "blasting" wouldn't make the average First Order channel uncomfortable, and wouldn't be zlinnable at all to most Seconds or Thirds.
Arat: I'm sorry. I was told she didn't make it.
Arat intends to investigate, of course, thoroughly but quietly.
Nick: ~~ stabbing grief ~~
Nick's grief, while plainly zlinnable to Arat, is also confined within that part of his nager that isn't directly affecting Arat's field.
Arat regards him for a moment longer, then moves his hands down to the ankle.
Arat: Your ankle is broken. I will have to take you downstairs for that.
Arat nevertheless begins to work on the ankle, not anxious to leave the privacy of the office and the honeymoon-like interlude wherein Nick's nager is more or less amenable to him and Nick isn't really awake enough to comprehend his situation.
Nick really can't bring himself to care about the ankle at the moment; losing Snake hurts so much more.
Arat finds that extending his laterals for the healing of the bruises around the ankle eases the pressure on his ronaplin glands, which have swelled to painful overcapacity in the last minutes.
Nick's attention is drawn to Arat by the movement, and he assesses Arat's condition out of habit.
Nick: Where's your Donor?
Nick knows that Snake would never allow him to leave the room when she was in such condition.
Arat shifts uneasily, keeping his eyes down on Nick's foot.
Arat: The... substitute... will arrive soon.
Arat hopes so, but actually wouldn't put it past Neptude to delay the Donor's arrival at this point. Arat had been caught by surprise when Beni had been yanked from his service, and has no idea what to expect from the Regional Controller next.
Arat, needless to say, having zlinned Nick's nager is even less interested in having anything to do with Sosu Pylor, whose Donoring had been so inadequate that it had driven him to reprimand the man in front of the World Controller, a visiting Ambassador from Gen Territory, and Pylor's wife and children besides.
Nick by this point in his career is well able to distinguish a Farris who is genuinely confident about something from one who is trying to BS both world and self in the hope that things will work out through sheer stubbornness and the inability to admit that they might not.
Nick has also gotten into the habit of not indulging said BS, so as to prevent a degenerating situation from getting worse.
Nick: Here.
Nick slips effortlessly into ~~ full support ~~ , controlling Arat's need discomfort.
Arat breaks out into a sweat. "I...."
Arat wants to say "I don't think you should do that", but that might cause Nick to stop.
Nick therefore keeps up the support, vaguely surprised at the intensity with which Arat leans on him during a rather straightforward functional.
Nick inspects Arat more closely, looking for signs of trauma or other medical reasons that Arat might require such intense assistance.
Nick: Are you all right?
Arat appears to have been under a lot of stress lately, missing sleep and other life essentials. Arat would also, to the trained eye, appear in a slovenly state, although only relative to his own usual anal-retentive neatness.
Nick sees that Arat is stressed out, although not apparently enough to affect his grooming.
Nick, however, is inclined to view Farris channels as particularly fragile and prone to disaster just now, and spurred by his loss of Snake, he subtly alters his support to start undoing the kinks in Arat's nager.
Nick manages to do this without raising intil; after all, he has been the target of enough efforts to separate him from Snake that he is not inclined to try to steal another Gen's channel.
Nick might, of course, have felt differently if he'd lived the Tecton life enough to know how little Arat's assigned Donor would miss their transfer, or if he'd had time to really consider his prospects of getting another marginally acceptable transfer any time soon.
Arat struggles to rally some self-discipline as Nick's efforts unravel it along with the nageric knots.
Nick: How bad is the break?
Arat manages to shake himself back to reality, and remove his hands from Nick's ankle while he's at it. "It wasn't bad to begin with. The travel has been hard on it, though."
Arat stands, withdrawing a little but unable to bear pulling himself completely out of Nick's influence. "It will have to be seen downstairs. I can take you there now, if you like."
Arat is willing to accept any excuse Nick might be able to provide for remaining isolated in the office for just a little bit longer.
Nick grunts, not too thrilled at the prospect of being dumped into a Tecton treatment cubicle, with the imminent loss of pants that implies.
Nick has also learned through experience to take a rather casual view of the appropriate venue for treating moderately serious injuries.
Nick: It's waited this long; a few more minutes won't make any difference. I don't suppose there's a chance of getting a cup of tea first?
Nick assumes from Arat's (relatively) pristine appearance that he prefers a better brand than Snake's cut-rate blend.
Arat turns around to hide his relief. "Yes, I think that will be possible."
Arat goes over to get the water started, then inspects the selection, aware that anybody who has spent time at Naros - indeed with Nick's bloodlines - is probably a tea snob of one variety or another.
Arat himself has been somewhat of an ascetic since pledging to the Tecton, and deliberately uses the standard Tecton tea in order to prove a point.
Arat does, however, manage to locate a small paper with some tea of Beni's folded into it, and puts those leaves in Nick's cup.
Nick leans back in his chair and closes his eyes to rest them for a few moments.
Nick is starting to run out of the little energy the avalanche, Prunida, and the drugs left him with.
Arat returns to sit facing Nick as the gas flame starts working on the cold water pitcher. He regards Nick uneasily as he tries to decide how best to make relevant conversation without provoking any dangerously roguish tendencies in the Gen.
Arat is somewhat encouraged by the fact that said Gen is tired and not inclined to move.
Arat: "Are you going to... require transfer this month?"
Nick doesn't quite manage to hide another stab of grief.
Nick: Snake and I....
Nick swallows.
Nick: We were due for transfer the evening of the avalanche.
Nick considers the options available to him, or at least the ones most acceptable to him.
Nick: Well, perhaps there's room for another Companion at Naros.
Nick isn't all that comfortable at the idea of sharing such an inadequate channel as his father/grandfather with Rapol, but hasn't heard of any other First Order rogue channels than Snake.
Arat winces. "While I am sure you would be most welcome there, certainly you'd find more relevant occupation here."
Arat does a pretty good job of appearing and sounding grave and objective, but any trained Donor would be able to spot a certain squirming of tentacles in their sheathes, of the sort normally intended to take the pressure off of certain glands.
Nick has more or less become accustomed to encountering such responses from Tecton channels since he Qualified with Snake.
Nick's nager firmly relieves the worst of Arat's discomfort, while not showing anything that even the most optimistic channel could interpret as a promise of transfer.
Nick: You said your Donor was coming--and I'm no poacher.
Arat looks away quickly, trying to hide the sudden snap of anger he can't control. He takes a deep breath or two, quelling the offense with an effort.
Arat is very interested in bringing Nick into the Tecton and will be damned if he'll let his own sensitivity to audacity get in the way of something that might correct Controller Neptude's opinion of him.
Arat: That's... not what I meant.
Arat looks back at Nick, risky as he nears the end of his personal limit on being nice to a person.
Arat: I meant here in a more general sense. Capitol. The Tecton.
Nick: I see.
Nick doubts that there are all that many unclaimed Farris channels in the district, or even all that many channels who out-rate Riyyh.
Nick is not about to join the Tecton for the privilege of being worse off than he would be at Naros, where there is always the possibility of latching onto a young channel with the flexibility to be really pushed.
Nick is beginning to remember why he left the Tecton in the first place, over ten years ago.
Nick: My apologies, I misunderstood your offer.
Nick's nager withdraws a bit from his heavy support of Arat, and somehow zlins more formal than before.
Arat looks considerably dismayed and distressed by the withdrawal, quite without realizing it.
Arat struggles to come up with the right words despite considerable handicaps (his condition, his personality, etc.)
Arat: Well... you will have to remain here for a little while in any case, until you are fit for travel. At least consider it.
Arat intends to put his best people on convincing Nick, and also to inform Controller Neptude as soon as possible in case he has somebody else he could send.
Nick is not looking forward to spending a week or so languishing around a Tecton Sime Center, high field and too crippled to run away from the channeling staff.
Nick: Well, I'll wait and see how I feel when this [nods at ankle] has been taken care of.
Pylor struts down the hall towards Arat's office, anticipating the condition the arrogant lorsh will be in, after over a week without his perverted friend Jeniard and a week without any Donor assistance at all.
Pylor has been waiting a long time to see Arat grovel.
Pylor opens the door to Arat's office without bothering to signal.
Pylor: I made it, no thanks to... who's that?
Arat looks up, seeming simultaneously very relieved and very unhappy to see the visitor.
Arat: Pylor. [stands]
Arat: Pylor, this is Nick Reckage, you may have heard of him? Nick, this is Sosu Pylor. [swallows, then manages to get out] My assigned Donor.
Nick doesn't want to make enemies of the Controller's Donor when it's looking like he's going to be around for a few days.
Nick promptly withdraws his nager to give Pylor full access to his channel, while using the signaling system he learned from Kenmore to formally pass responsibility for Arat over to the other Donor.
Nick: Pleased to meet you. You'll forgive me if I don't rise; my ankle is broken.
Pylor picks up the support, in a fashion that is crude and inadequate compared to Nick's earlier efforts.
Pylor is also not concentrating on the task, as he absorbs the news of Nick's identity.
Pylor: A rogue? You've sequestered yourself--alone and in need--with the most notorious rogue Donor in a generation?
Nick ~~ bristles ~~ at the insult.
Pylor: What will Controller Neptude have to say to that, I wonder? ~~ outrage mixed with glee at the chance to see Arat get into worse trouble, preferably with Pylor's own assistance~~
Pylor: Not that what I wouldn't expect such behavior, from a member of your family.
Arat succeeds in aging about 15 years in1.5 minutes, he simultaneously loses Nick's nager's touch and is manhandled by the odious Pylor. Arat's patience is, predictably enough, not regenerated during the course of the time travel - in fact, the opposite is closer to the truth.
Arat's dark eyes glint fury, a warning to Pylor. "Kindly pay attention to what you are doing." [coldly]
Nick recognizes the signs of Farris fury brewing, and responds on the unconscious assumption that if Arat isn't calmed quickly, Pylor might end up with a knife in him.
Nick's preferred method of dealing with the mishap of accidentally coming between another Donor-channel pair would be to simply leave the room and let them reach an accommodation.Nick realizes that this is not practical at the moment, and that Pylor does not appear to be willing to let the subject drop.
Nick therefore reaches his nager around Pylor to ~~ calm ~~ Arat.
Pylor, oblivious, continues his tirade.
Pylor: What I'm doing? It's what you're doing that's under question. No Tecton channel should be working with a non-Tecton Donor without proper authorization. Which you don't have, do you?
Arat gives Pylor a withering look.
Arat: He arrived less than 20 minutes ago, as I am sure you will learn elsewhere, and came quite as much as a surprise to me as he did to you.
Arat: And both of you, stop it. I will not be fought over.
Arat beats a hasty retreat to his desk, which sadly provides little direct protection against the clash of these nageric titans, but at least gives him a 3' personal space buffer.
Nick withdraws all attempt to buffer Arat from Pylor's onslaught.
Pylor sniffs with contempt.
Pylor: Since you obviously don't require my assistance, Controller Arat, I will go unpack. I will check on you later, after I've bathed. And eaten. And perhaps taken a nap.
Pylor turns and stomps out.
Nick winces as the door slams behind him.
Nick: I'm sorry to be so much trouble. I had no idea I was so... well known.
Arat pauses briefly in a position which has become rather familiar to him in the last week: elbows on desk, head down, forehead in palms.
Arat makes a supreme effort to regain some control of the conversation with Nick as he'd originally intended it to go.
Arat: No... no, it isn't your fault.
Arat does not go into any detail about why not.
Arat removes his head from his hands and rises. "We had better get your ankle taken care of."
Nick nods, suddenly too exhausted to do much more than keep the pain from overwhelming his nageric projection.
see note 2
Arat, having placed Nick in the competent hands of people he trusts will take care of him without either letting him escape or offending him, has returned to his office to nurse an incipient nervous breakdown and get a little bit of paperwork done before Pylor returns to wreck what little concentration he can maintain at this time of month. (This time of month being what would normally be the beginning of the month, except that he hasn't had transfer yet.)
Pylor finally deigns to make an appearance.
Pylor: What did you do with the rogue? I don't suppose you had the sense to put him in a locked cell and send for the police?
Arat had zlinned Pylor coming, and so weathered his unsignalled entrance without getting too scrambled.
Arat: That is none of your concern.
Arat can't even imagine having transfer with this man, not right now anyway.
Pylor smirks.
Pylor: Of course it's my concern. Any time a rogue Donor tries to seduce a Tecton channel into an illegal transfer, it's the business of every loyal Tecton employee to intervene. And you did want him, don't try to deny it.
Arat can't even imagine having a coherent conversation with this man at this moment, actually.
Arat gives him a disgusted look and tries to go back to his paperwork.
Pylor continues to ~~ smirk ~~ nagerically, as he pours himself tea and settles back in a chair.
Seruffin, Second Assistant World Controller, arrives for an unannounced visit, and signals at Arat's office door.
Arat zlins what's coming and can't believe his bad luck.
Arat: Pylor, would you get that. [massaging his brow with one hand and stuffing papers from his desktop into a drawer with the other]
Pylor takes his time strolling over to the door, then straightens up and steps aside deferentially when he discovers the identity of the caller.
Pylor: Welcome, Hajene Seruffin.
Seruffin has made Pylor's acquaintance, and it was not one of the highlights of his career. He therefore strides past Pylor without replying.
Seruffin: Arat, what's this nonsense about you endangering one of the Diplomatic Office's pet Wild Gens?
Arat: Hello, Hajene Seruffin.
Arat: I assure you, Dr. Roosle was never in danger.
Arat would like to offer Seruffin a seat and some tea but somehow the tea bit has been giving him much more of a headache today than it usually does, which is saying a lot.
Seruffin chuckles, and helps himself to a seat.
Seruffin: That's what I told Hamish, but the man's so wrapped up in babysitting various would-be harbingers of interterritorial good will that he wouldn't listen. I promised him I'd check into the matter, and now I have.
Seruffin does not appear to be interested in pursuing the matter farther.
Arat sighs in relief, internally.
Seruffin: While I'm here, are there any other incipient Incidents I should know about?
Arat: Nothing that I know of that the Diplomatic Corps would be interested in.
Arat: [adds in afterthought] I don't know if you've heard yet, but I have Nick Reckage detained here.
Arat had had a memo fired off to Neptude's office, but doesn't know if it's percolated as far as Seruffin's office yet, or indeed if Seruffin has even been in his office since Nick was brought in.
Seruffin: Nick Reckage? ~~ sharp interest ~~ The rogue Donor who works with Hajene Snake Farris?
Arat: Yes.
Seruffin: How'd you mange to get your tentacles on him? I'd heard that Hajene Snake was terribly possessive of him.
Arat: He was turned in by a family member who has had a history of trying to interest him in the Tecton. Snake Farris was reported dead. I have started an investigation but the accident occurred some distance from here, it will take some time to confirm what happened.
Seruffin: Snake Farris is dead in an accident? Reckage wasn't damaged as well, was he?
Seruffin is well aware that the coup of corralling a rogue Donor at last is considerably less if the Gen in question turns out to be unusable.
Arat: It is a minor injury.
Arat doesn't say that Nick's nager was definitely in perfect working order.
Arat glances at Pylor, then lowers his voice. "Do you have any idea what is going on in Controller Neptude's office?"
Seruffin: Going on? A great deal, as usual, but I suspect that you're not asking about routine business.
Arat: Neptude reassigned Jeniard last week, indefinitely. I thought he did it to - [hesitates, then decides he's not going to get a better chance to speak to Seruffin, regardless of Pylor's presence] - to force me to get along with Sosu Beni, but three days ago he reassigned Sosu Beni also. Can you tell me why he did this? Is there some emergency, or...?
Seruffin waves the inquiry away with one tentacle.
Seruffin: Not that I've heard; you'll have to ask Neptude. But this is marvelous news about Nick Reckage; you really are to be commended. What is his mental state? Do you think he can be convinced to work for the Tecton, now that his rogue channel is no longer available? And does he have the skills?
Arat is disheartened by Seruffin's lack of knowledge but replies truthfully. "He has only just arrived and should to be treated for his injuries, and rested, before I can test him extensively. However, from what I've zlinned myself, he is quite competent so far as control of his field goes, and may require training only in procedures and policies. As far as his being willing, I don't imagine he will be initially, but... given time to work with, I believe he can be convinced that the alternatives are much more gruesome."
Arat is not, of course, implying that working for the Tecton is gruesome enough.
Pylor grimaces.
Pylor: He's a rogue. He ought to be in jail, where he can't do any more damage.
Seruffin looks at Pylor. ~~ less than pleased ~~
Seruffin: He can't do any good in a jail cell, either. The Tecton doesn't have so many competent Donors that we can afford to miss such an opportunity.
Seruffin turns back to Arat.
Seruffin: Take care of his injuries, by all means, and do your best to make him feel like a welcome guest. When is he due for transfer?
Pylor looks a bit sour at this official endorsement of a Nick-recruitment scheme.
Arat: He was due days ago.
Arat's iron control of himself says all anybody needs to know.
Seruffin tsks.
Seruffin: Well, then, it must be taken care of immediately, if only to let him know that the Tecton's offer is serious. Not to mention that he'll have a harder time injuring his guards if he's low field. Which of your high Firsts are due for transfer just now?
Arat: [expression and nager unreadable] Chemish is due a week from tomorrow.
Seruffin waves away Chemish's nomination.
Seruffin: Forget Chemish. She could never satisfy a Donor who's been giving regular transfers to a Farris channel. There's no way around it; you'll have to take care of it yourself.
Pylor ~~ protests ~~ "But....!"
Seruffin ignore's Pylor's protest, mistakenly assuming that it stems from concern about Arat's welfare.
Seruffin: I know it's risky, trusting yourself to an improperly trained Donor who doesn't particularly trust Tecton channels. I don't envy you the task, but there's no other way to handle the matter with any chance of success.
Seruffin might feel a bit differently, at least as far as the envy went, if he had ever actually zlinned Nick's nager himself.
Arat looks rather startled. "You're assigning me to Nick Reckage?"
Arat's initial it's-too-good-to-be-true reaction is followed up by the secondary, I-knew-there-had-to-be-a-catch reaction.
Arat: I'm willing. But... what about Controller Neptude? He may not allow it.
Seruffin: I'll drop a note to Neptude as soon as I get back to my office. He may squawk about the inconvenience of redoing his schedule, but this is important.
Seruffin looks at Arat sternly.
Seruffin: You understand that this isn't a conventional transfer assignment. Reckage is reputed to distrust the Tecton and its representatives. To accomplish our goals, Reckage will have to be persuaded to give you transfer of his own free will, or as close to it as you can manage. Spend some time with him, get acquainted--convince him to see you as a channel in need, not a Tecton employee. Take as much time as it requires; this can't be timed to the minute.
Arat nods. [it has been exactly 1237 minutes since he was actually due]
Arat: Yes, Hajene.
Seruffin: I rely on your skill to turn Reckage back to a more productive choice of career. Send me a full report, of course, with your assessment of his potential and of your progress.
Arat: Of course. [nods]
Arat is anxious to rush to the quarters Nick was housed in immediately, but covers it as best as he is able.
Seruffin nods in satisfaction.
Seruffin: I look forward to reading it. This really is a great opportunity for the Tecton.
Seruffin stands.
Seruffin: I'll leave you to it, then.
Arat: Thank you.
Arat waits until the Assistant World Controller is gone, and then looks at Pylor.
Arat's expression is cynical and a little amused.
Arat just waits for Pylor to say something.
Pylor is on the verge of spluttering incoherently.
Pylor: You're not going to try this insane stunt, are you? The man's a rogue. I've heard that he physically--and nagerically--threatened Sectuib Riyyh of Naros.
Arat feels it is hardly necessary to point out that he resembles Riyyh of Naros like an enraged black stallion resembles a terrified bunny rabbit: to wit, they are both mammals.
Arat: I will do as I was ordered.
Arat pauses, then gets up and goes to pick up the transfer card with Pylor's name on it that had fallen into the corner earlier.
Arat studies it, and then places it in the trash.
Pylor watches the expressive Farris lips curl in disdain, and decides a strategic retreat is in order.
Pylor: I shall have to inform Controller Neptude of this--reassignment--at once, so he can reassign me. As you pointed out, there is a shortage of high-rated Donors, and there are many claims on my services.
Arat: I will arrange for your reassignment and let you know what he says. In the meantime, I would like you to spend a few hours with a channel I am rehabilitating. He requires practice in being comfortable around First Order Gens and requires very careful handling.
Arat: I am sure that you are ideal for the job. Darrel's therapist Sosu Lemuse will be able to fill you in on the details, and of course, will be able to let me know how things went. In detail.
Arat has just penned a small slip of paper with a room number on it, which he hands to Pylor.
Pylor stares at the card in disbelief.
Pylor: A Second? You're assigning me to work with a Second Order channel?
Arat: The trick is to not overcontrol him. I am sure you will do well.
Arat is sure Pylor will be a gibbering wreck after two hours of it, yet compelled by ego and the necessity of keeping a clean record to do a good job.
Arat actually smiles, briefly.
Pylor droops, recognizing defeat when it hits him over the head frequently enough.
Pylor: Yes, Controller Arat.
Pylor takes the paper and slinks off.
Arat waits until he is gone, then locks his office and hurries off in the direction of Nick Reckage.
Notes:
1) Due to an unfortunate chain of circumstances in previous encounters with the Tecton, Nick believes all Tecton healers want to cut his pants off. [return]
2) Some time passes between these two scenes. [return]