Chapter 25: Remastered

*Words in italics are being translated from sign language with no other notation*

An unfamiliar priest sat in one of the visitor chairs in the mayor’s office.  He was middle-aged, olive complected, with deep, piercing eyes.  The mayor grinned at Tatiana as she entered, “Holiness, meet the head of the Ostrum.”

“The Ostrum,” Tatiana echoed, trying to place the name in her mind. 

Behind her, Alister turned pale, “It looks like we have a two ‘L’ situation.”  He pushed her into the hallway, facing the priest who had risen from his chair.

Carl grabbed Amber and Tatiana’s hands, pulling them down the hallway towards the elevator.  “What about Alister?” Tatiana glanced over her shoulder.
 
The elevator dinged, drawing her attention forward.  A row of purple-clad servants stood shoulder-to-shoulder in the elevator .  Each wore a sword at their right side and held a bell in his left hand.  Before she could even understand what she was looking at, the servants rang their bells and her vision narrowed, the edges of it darkening until all light was gone.

When Tatiana awoke, she was laying on a raised surface in a white room.  Alister lay on a platform next to her, his eyes still closed.  The only sound was the whoosh of an air-handling system and someone sniffling.  Tatiana sat up, blinking against the stark light of the room.  The blue hair and bright red robes of the servant were a relief to her eyes, “Kadeem.”  Tatiana’s voice came out in barely a whisper.  She tried again, “Kadeem.”

Kadeem wiped his eyes and stood, “So you’re awake, Princess.”

“Kadeem,” Tatiana couldn’t remember where she was or how she got there.  She tried to think of the last thing that had happened, “What is a ‘two ‘L’ situation?’”

Kadeem choked a laugh, forming his fingers into a sign, “It’s Alister for ‘run.’  Ellipse be damned, I miss him.”

“Is he . . .” Tatiana looked at Alister’s still form, “Is he dead?”

“No, dummy, he’s not dead,” Kadeem sniffled, “Although I might as well be dead to him.”

“He’s not that mad at you, you just hurt his feel-” Tatiana stopped short.  She was finally conscious enough to realize what little she was wearing, “Why am I wearing duct tape?”

“It’s not duct tape,” Kadeem tossed her a white hospital blanket, “It’s a biometric tape that monitors your vitals.”  He looked up at the ceiling, then moved his chair over next to a white vent, “You must be cold, come sit near the heater.”

Tatiana made a face at him, “Because you actually care.”  Skeptically she moved over to him, “What are you up to, Kadeem?”

   “They can’t hear us if we whisper this close to a white noise source,” he hissed.  “I’m changing sides.  Even if he never forgives me,” Kadeem’s eyes glittered, “When I first met him, Alister had just been remastered by the Ostrum.  He couldn’t feed himself, walk, or use the toilet.” 

Tatiana shivered, “The Order did that to him?”

“He was out of control, like now.  Saying he was going to take down the wall.  They had to do something.”

Realization slowly dawned on her, “We have to get out of here.”

“We wait until Alister wakes up,” Kadeem crossed his arms.

“There has to be a way out of this, some way to resist the remastering, like thinking of a brick wall.”

Kadeem didn’t respond right away.  His eyes were locked onto Alister’s form, “I think he’s waking up.”  Alister’s foot twitched, then he sat bolt upright with a gasp.  Kadeem signed to him, and he signed back.  With a baffled look on his face, Kadeem turned to Tatiana, “He says he was floating above us and heard our conversation.  The brick wall won’t work.  The only priests who can resist remastering are priests who have ascended.”

“Great,” Tatiana’s voice dripped with sarcasm, “So if you become completely brainwashed the brainwashing doesn’t work.”

“Ascension is not brainwashing.  It’s merging with your patron,” Alister looked at the door.

Tatiana sucked in her lower lip, “If I had my relic and I merged, would I be able to save everyone?”

“If you still wanted to, Dear,” Alister scrunched up his face, “We don’t really know who you would be or what would happen, but yes, you would have power over the Order itself.”

The door opened and the servants of the Ostrum filed into the room.  Four of them seized Alister, cuffing his hands and putting him in leg shackles.  The other four surrounded Tatiana. 

“I only have one good arm,” she pointed to her cast, “Can’t you just do my legs?”  The servants looked at each other, then complied.  Pleasantly surprised, she shuffled into the hallway surrounded by the men.  They herded her and Alister into a large dimly lit room.  It was a Sacred Chamber, the priest sitting in a chair near the far wall.  As they approached, Tatiana gasped.  He was a wolf man, clad in white robes, a rainbow belt around his waist.  No, he wasn’t just any wolf man, he was Tate.  Stunned, she watched them drag Alister up to the throne.  He was struggling, screaming, his face contorting.  For a moment the image of Tate seemed to dissolve into pixels, then it popped back into focus.  Behind it was a black box and in the box was a fiddle and a comb.

One of the Ostrum yelped as Kadeem grabbed his sword.  Alister was dropped on the relic, where he writhed like a fish.  Kadeem seized the unarmed servant in an attempt to take a hostage.  There was a scuffle, then screaming.  Tatiana closed her eyes, biting her lips so hard that she tasted blood.  Whether it was powerlessness or cowardice that kept her frozen in place was of little matter; she felt herself tested and found herself lacking.

With self-loathing rising in her throat, she opened her eyes.  Alister and Kadeem lay on opposite sides of the throne.  Alister appeared healthy, but his eyes were vacant and unfocused. Kadeem’s red robes were sodden around his abdomen, his face a taut mask of pain.  Tatiana could feel a tightening in her stomach.  It expanded slowly until her whole body was filled with rage.  “In the beginning there was song, in the beginning there was song,” she repeated silently as the Ostrum led her up to the throne.  “In the beginning there was song,” instead of resisting, she leaned into the relic, the electric buzz pulsing around her.  “In the beginning there was song!” she reached into the relic with her left hand, straight through Tate’s thigh.  Confusion washed over her, but her mind kept reciting the blessing she had learned as a force of habit.  “In the beginning there was song in the beginning there was song in-the-beginningtherewassong.”  Something prickled her fingertips and a deafening buzz rolled through her body.  For a moment, she was nothing but white light and energy.  No body, just a flow of electrons.  Then the room snapped into focus. 

Tatiana lifted the fiddle from the box and tucked it under her chin.  With her good hand she pressed down the strings on the fingerboard.  “Darkest sky, sea of glass,” her voice filled the chamber, “What if I said that love can last?”  To her surprise, her voice seemed to rise from the top of her head.  It was rich, in tune, and the sound of the fiddle filled her mind as she touched the strings.

Next to her the Ostrum knelt, placing their swords flat on the ground.  “Arch Priestess,” the servant kept his head bowed, “we are at your command.”

“You will do as I say?” Tatiana gazed down the strings at the bowed heads of the Ostrum until she saw each head bob in agreement.  Looking across the room, her eyes settled on Kadeem.  She couldn’t be sure from this distance, but she thought he shifted slightly.  “First you will bring a medical team for Kadeem,” she pointed at one of the servants.  “You,” she pointed at another, “take Alister to a room and care for him.”  Tucking the fiddle under her arm, she picked up one of the Ostrum’s swords, “Who would like to escort me to where you are keeping Amber and Carl?”

“I will,” a servant looked up at her timidly, “My name is Wyatt; I shall be at your command.”

Silently, Tatiana followed him out of the Sacred Chamber.  As they walked down the hall, the route they took seemed oddly familiar; right, left, up the stairs.  As they passed a door with a brass name plate, it suddenly sunk in.  ”Holiness Van . . .” read the plate.  Just then, the door opened and out came the same priest she had seen in the mayor’s office.  His eyes flashed when he saw her, and he drew his sword in one clean movement.  “Drop your weapon, Tatiana,” his muscles tensed under his robes like the coils of a snake. 

As Tatiana dropped her sword, Wyatt moved between her and the priest.  “You will not harm the Arch Priestess,” Wyatt’s sword was drawn, his stance wide.

“Arch Priestess?” Van, the head of the Ostrum looked her up and down.  His expression changed from a glare to one of amazement, “They come bearing their Holy Relic, the waters of Death in their eyes.”  He knelt, using his sword like a cane.

Tatiana sucked in her bottom lip.  The man kneeling before her had betrayed someone he saw everyday, someone with whose welfare he had been entrusted, someone she loved.  “Does even the head of the Ostrum obey an ascended priest?” she asked.

“The angel of an arch priest is always in the orbit of the Ellipse,” Van kept his eyes low, “Even the head priest of Citadel must obey their command.”

Tatiana pursed her mouth in thought, “You have a choice, then.  You may go serve the cursed in Egregia, or . . . you can choose to be remastered.”

Van gasped, his head jerking up, “Arch Priestess!  Haven’t I served the order faithfully?”

“You served the rule of the Ellipse and not its heart,” Tatiana felt as if her words were coming from someone else, “You can learn to love by serving those less than you, or you can share Alister’s fate.”

Van’s skin turned ashen, “I will go to Egregia.”

Tatiana nodded, “Go immediately, as if you are one who is cursed.  Take your relic and bless the people.”  She turned to Wyatt, “Are my friends up here?” 

“This way, Arch Priestess,” Wyatt led the way forward, the muscles in his broad back still tensed from the confrontation.  Tatiana followed him, grateful the servant was on her side.  They stopped in front of a door guarded by two servants. 

Tatiana slowly opened the door.  Carl was standing on a chair, unscrewing a vent cover with a broken ink pen.  Amber was rearranging the covers on the bed, to make it look as if there were bodies tucked under them.  “What’s going on here?” Tatiana demanded. 

Carl turned, the wheeled chair rolling out from underneath him.  He landed on his back with a thud.  Amber’s face smoothed into relief, “Tatiana!  You’re okay!”

Chapter 24: Undermined

Alister was laying on the bed Tatiana had claimed for herself, the Enchiridion open in front of him.  Annoyed, Tatiana tried to pull her robes out from underneath him.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Alister rolled off her robes.

“Does that thing actually make it so you can?  Hear I mean?”

“No,” Alister pulled on his bottom eyelid, “I’m wearing a special contact that puts captions on everything the microphone,” he tapped the high neck of his shirt, “picks up.”

“Why not just bring Kadeem?”

“I sent him back to Browlee,” Alister’s face darkened, “He turned me over to the Order as an apostate, not realizing that I am following the conscious that the Ellipse saw fit to give me.”  Alister sniffed, rubbing his eyes.

“The dust in here sure is bothering everyone,” Tatiana thought.

“I thought I was more than a master to him.  I thought . . .”  Even though his words were conveyed by the flat robotic voice, his natural sounds conveyed his grief.  

Surprised, Tatiana sat down next to him on the bed.  She gently put a hand on his back, “Kadeem really loves you.  He was just trying to do what he thought was best for you.”

“Why does everybody think they know what's best for me, just because I'm deaf?  I’m not a child, I just can't hear,” Alister stared down at the Enchiridion, his tears blurring the type on the thin pages, “Even this book looks at deafness as a curse.”

Tatiana took her hand off his back and picked up the book, “Let’s burn it then.”

Alister laughed.  “You never change.”  He pulled his pouch out of his sash, “I think I need to commune and figure out our next steps.  You should too.”

“My relic got left in Egregia.”

Alister wiped his eyes with the corner of his robe, “I should strip you of your orange sash.”

Tatiana scooted away from him, “Not fair.  I’m already halfway to yellow.”

“That relic is the cord that connects you to the other world.  Without it, you have no ballast.”

Amber opened the door.  She crossed the room and lay on the other bed.

“If you did manage to somehow access the power of the Ellipse, it would kill you,” Alister stared at his comb.

“Quit telling her weird things, Bill,” Amber rolled on her side, propping her chin up on her hand.

“It’s not weird, it’s true.  She left her relic in Egregia.”

“No she didn't,” Amber sat up, “It’s been in Carl’s bag the whole time.”  Amber picked up a worn rice sack and tried to pull out the fiddle.  The tuning pegs caught on a stray thread of burlap and Amber struggled to remove it, the thread tangled in an impossible knot.  “Her Holiness is doing her best to live up to the true heart of the Ellipse,” she gave up tugging on the fiddle, “Unlike some people who run around starting fights, ditching their responsibilities, and doing things priests shouldn't do.”

Alister’s face scrunched in puzzlement, “Since when do you call Tatiana ‘Her Holiness?’”

“Since she started earning it,” Amber yanked on the fiddle again.  A peg flew across the room, bouncing off the wall and landing on the carpet.  Tatiana jumped off the bed and got down on all fours.  Spotting it, she palmed it, dizziness tickling the back of her mind.

When she sat up, Alister was watching her, a thoughtful look on his face.  

“Don't say it,” Tatiana admonished.

“What?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, just don't say it,” she took the fiddle from Amber, closing her eyes and sitting quietly.

“Psst, Bianca,” Amber poked her in the ribs.

She cracked an eye open, “Shhh.”

“Bill is in la-la land.  Let’s talk strategy.”

Alister was sitting on her bed, his legs tucked under him, his comb in the palm of his hand.  “I don’t really have a strategy,” Tatiana whispered.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Amber jumped from her bed, landing on the other bed with a thump.

“Are you trying to wake him up?” Tatiana hissed.

“He’s not going to wake up,” Amber punched him in the back, “See?  If you didn’t wrap your robe around your hands before taking Tate’s fiddle, you’d be zombified too.”  She punched him again for good measure.

“Quit that, you’re going to leave a bruise,” Tatiana sat on the edge of the bed.  “If the Mayor agrees to make Errant a city of refuge, we don’t need a strategy.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Amber crossed her arms.  “This whole idea doesn’t even sound like something Bill would come up with,” she smacked him on the back of the head, “Something like running through the wall with a train is much more his style.”

“But the train tracks don’t run anywhere near the wall,”  Tatiana nibbled on her lip, “A semi-truck might work, I guess.  A tank would be perfect, but how would we . . .” she trailed off seeing the look on Amber’s face.

“This is why you hang out with him, isn’t it?”

“I was assigned to him, I’m not ‘hanging out’ with him,” indignantly, Tatiana crossed her arms, “Anyway, do you have any better ideas?”

“Okay, Holiness, how about this,” Amber picked up the hotel stationery pad and drew two horizontal lines on it.  “This is the wall, okay?” she pointed at the space between the lines, “You want to go through the wall,” she drew an arrow in the space.  “What if we were to go,” she drew an arrow under the bottom line, “under the wall.”

“You know, this idea could work really well with the city of refuge.  We could squirrel people out of Egregia through the tunnel, put them up in a safe house, and help them get reestablished in Citadel,” Tatiana was getting excited.  She couldn’t wait to talk to the mayor the next day.

Chapter 23: The Business of Bureaucracy

The hotel was the sort of hotel that survived merely because it was the only one.  The rooms were dingy, walls yellowing with age and mold growing in the bathroom.  The bedspreads and carpets were of different color palettes and the wall art was an eclectic assortment of pastoral and beach scenes.

Amber sneezed repeatedly, then turned on her heel and left the room.  Tatiana could hear her outside, sneezing on the communal balcony.  Carl surveyed the room, then poked his head out the door,  “It’s pretty nice outside.  Wanna hang out on the balcony?”

Tatiana nodded, shucking her robes off and tossing them on one of the beds. From the balcony she could see all the way to the wall marking the border of the farmland.  Carl leaned up against the railing next to her, a lazy smile on his face.

“How did you two get across the border?” Tatiana shifted away from him as his shirt brushed her arm.

“Lamar pretended that he wasn't cursed anymore,” Amber sniffed, blotting her nose with a tissue, “Carl and I hid and when the droid came out to take his biometrics, we snuck inside.”

“And that worked?” Tatiana was stunned.  It was such a simple plan, she wouldn't have even thought of it.

“Like a charm,” Amber sneezed again.

“Okay, next question: how did you know where to find me?”

“I saw the drone that took you,” Carl contributed, “I knew it was one of the Order’s, since they all have rainbow license plates.  So we just went to the nearest Holy Place.”

“And went on a spree drugging and tying up whoever crossed your path,” Tatiana shook a finger at them.

“Book, Hobiness,” Amber blew her nose in her tissue and tried again, “Look, Holiness, there's a lot of things you don't know about the Order.  They aren't some frock-wearing band of do-gooders-”

“Speak for yourself,” a robotic voice said behind them.  

Amber whirled around to face Alister, her face inches away from his, “And then there's Bill, who didn't even bother to rescue you.”  She poked him in the chest hard enough to make him stumble backwards.

“Woah,” Tatiana moved in between them, “I’m sure the Order isn’t all bad.”

“You’re so naive,” Amber turned towards her, stepping in a little too close, “Get your head out of your anus, Holiness, or they’ll chop it off for you.”

Alister grabbed the back of Amber’s shirt, towing her away from Tatiana.  As he released her, he gave her a shove, and Amber yelped.  She grabbed her chest and scurried across the balcony, running down the exterior staircase.

“Amber!” Tatiana hesitated, her eyes on Alister.  She really wanted to talk to him, but Amber was upset and she was the only one who sort of got along with her.  “Crap,” she said to herself.  Knowing she was in nowhere as good of shape as Amber, she ran after her, slowing as she reached the steps.  Once she reached the bottom, she headed straight across the lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

“She went that way,” called Alister from the balcony.  He pointed to the right.  Tatiana picked up her pace again, forcing herself into a run.  She panted down the street, stopping in front of a man smoking a pipe, “Have you seen a red-headed woman in a purple shirt?”

“I saw a witch in purple, but no woman,” he blew smoke in Tatiana’s direction.

Flummoxed she responded, “You saw a male witch?”  It wasn't impossible, but for whatever reason, men didn't usually get cursed as witches.  

“Why are you looking for the cursed, anyway?” he drew on his pipe, smoke trickling out the sides of his mouth, “Dontcha know they're dangerous?”

“They're not-” Tatiana shook her head.  She couldn't afford to have this conversation.  Every second that ticked by was a second Amber got farther away.  She tried running again, her steps as slow as if she were jogging in molasses.  

A hand closed over her shoulder, “Holiness, Bianca, Tatiana, whatever your name is, stop.”  Tatiana pulled away, then turned to face the witch in purple.  “Come on,” Amber headed towards the building next to them.  It was a glassed in storefront at the bottom of a four story residential building.  Neon signs indicated what beers they had on tap.  The inside was comfortable without being divey, oak chairs and tables, tapestry covered walls, and lacquered room dividers sectioning off a group of 15 people playing cards.

Tatiana sat down, her breath still coming in frantic little gasps.  A waitress came by the table, pouring her a glass of water.  Tatiana took a sip and eyed Amber.  She was nursing a beer, her eyes glittering in the low lighting, her face in an unreadable expression.  “You’re right,” Tatiana took another sip of water, “I don't know anything about the Order.  But more important, I don't know anything about you, not really.”  The waitress came by and Tatiana ordered a margarita.  “Not that it's any of my business,” she continued, “but when I was last at the Holy Place, I kept feeling like there was something weird going on, like people can't be honest for some reason.”

“You need to make it your business, Tatiana,” Amber lifted the pint glass towards her mouth, then set it back down again, “Don't be fooled by the communal spirit and the the camaraderie.  Everyone there is only out for themselves.”  Her eyes glazed over as if she was staring straight into the past, “You know, Tate really loved me.  He did something no one in Citadel was willing to do for me; he came to my aid even though I didn't deserve it.”

Tatiana shifted in her chair uncomfortably, “I don't want to talk about him.”

Amber’s forehead pinched together as she focused on Tatiana, “Not to be rude or anything, but you’re just jealous he picked me over you.”

Tatiana flinched as if she'd been slapped, “You know what the truth is?  I’d rather be cursed forever than have him as my patron.  I’m glad I lost his fiddle.  I hope the neck snapped.  I hope someone uses it for firewood.”  The waitress threw a cocktail napkin on the table, deposited her drink, and dashed off.

“You feel about him like I feel about the Order.  Did you know I was in the Order for three years?” Amber continued without waiting for a response, “They were people I trusted, people I loved.”  She swigged her beer, “Then I made a mistake.  I got really close to a priest who was very popular.  She was the same age as me and we just kind of clicked.  One day I bragged to another servant about how well I got along with Her Holiness.” Amber rotated her beer glass between her hands, “A few days later I turned into a witch.”  Amber lifted the glass to her, taking a long drink.  She swallowed, then took a deep breath, “But that wasn't the worst part.  The worst part was that they got rid of me so easily.  Her Holiness never even said goodbye, ‘cause you know, everyone is replaceable.”

“No,” Tatiana couldn't help interrupting, “No one is replaceable, and if I ever get like that, take me out back and shoot me.”

“You can't help it,” Amber shook her head, “Even if you start off as a decent person, the slow drip of bureaucracy wears away at you.”  She took another gulp of her beer, the spark gone from her eyes.  “Do you know why I ran away the way I did?”

Tatiana shook her head silently.  

“Bill snapped my bra strap so hard, it came completely undone.”

Tatiana snorted, then covered her mouth, “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.”

Amber tipped back the rest of her beer, then signaled the waitress.  “Let's go back to the hotel.”

“You're coming with me?” Tatiana couldn't hide her surprise.

“I’m not going to sneak across the border, stage your rescue, and follow you to some Ellipse-forsaken city, only to ditch you over an embarrassing moment.  Anyway, I can’t really leave you alone with those idiot Marshalls, can I?”

Chapter 22: The Pirate of Errant

Errant was a peculiar looking city, the town proper arranged in a shape that resembled nothing as much as an amoeba.  The irregular line of business dissipated into farmlands on all sides.  The nucleus of the single-celled being was a two-story glass building with “City Hall” stenciled on the front.  

Tatiana pulled her robes on over her clothes, passing the red ones to Amber.  “You gonna tell me what we're doing?” Amber pulled the robes over her head.

“I’m going to try to convince the mayor to make this a city of refuge,” Tatiana tied her orange sash around her waist and opened the door.  They entered into a waiting area with vinyl chairs and a potted palm.  At the far end, a receptionist sat behind Plexiglas.  Tatiana approached the desk, “We would like to see the mayor.”

“Names?” The man peered at them over the top of his readers.

“Tatiana Ellipse, priest of the Order of the Ellipse,” she set The Enchiridion on the counter for effect, “This is my servant Amber Kant, and my associate Carl Marshall of the Devils.”

“Have a seat,” the man responded.

They sat in a row, Carl picking up a magazine and Amber flipping through a informational pamphlet.  “Hey Carl,” Tatiana flipped open the Enchiridion, “you ever heard of The Wizard of Oz?”

“We’re not in Egregia anymore,Tati,” Carl cracked a grin.

“I feel like we’re in that part of the book where they meet the Wizard, but something’s gone horribly wrong.”

“What?” Carl closed the magazine and placed it on the seat next to him.

“Cowardly Lion,” she pointed at him, “Tin Man,” she pointed at Amber, “Scarecrow,” she pointed at herself.  “We lost Dorothy and Toto.”

“Are you saying my brother is like a naive farm girl with her head in the clouds?” Carl’s mouth twitched belying the seriousness of his expression.

“I’m saying this was his mission,” Tatiana pulled her notepad out of her sash, “Mina said he’d written something about starting a city of refuge.”

Before she could finish her thought, the receptionist opened the inner door.  “Holiness,” he gestured for her to follow him, “the mayor will see you now.”

The door opened to a maze of cubicles, and they passed through the center of them to reach the elevator.  The receptionist rode the elevator with them, escorting them to the office marked, “Mayor.”  He tapped on the door, waiting until the mayor called, “Come in.”

The mayor looked how Tatiana would imagine a pirate, scraggly long grey hair, chest length beard, and an artificial eye.  “Have a seat, have a seat,” he waved his beefy hand at the two visitor chairs, “I’m Mayor Gunderson.  What can I do for the Order?”

“I’m not here on behalf of the Order,” Tatiana sat on half the chair, motioning for Amber to squeeze in next to her, “Really, I’m here on behalf of the cursed.”

“Very good,” the mayor grinned, “I thought a priest with a witch for a servant might have something interesting to say.”

“Mr. Mayor, I have heard that Errant tolerates the cursed within its boundaries, but do you protect them?”

“That, Holiness, would be against Citadel law,” the mayor crossed his arms across his chest.

“Well, yes,” Tatiana sucked in her lip, dismayed.

“Guess you don't have any real power then, huh?” grumbled Carl.

“Of course I have power,” the mayor sat up.

“So you could do what she says?  Protect the cursed?” Carl put his hands behind his head and crossed his ankle over his knee.

“Yeah, if I wanted to.”

“You know, never mind,” Tatiana stood up, “I thought that Errant would want to be the first city of refuge, but I was wrong.  I’m sure there's another more progressive city that wo-”

“Now wait a minute, Holiness,” the mayor interrupted, “I didn't say we wouldn't be the first city, I just said I needed to think about it.  Come back tomorrow and talk to me again.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” Tatiana nodded her goodbyes, following Carl out of the office.  They waited by the elevator in silence.  

As the doors shuddered open, Tatiana stepped back to allow a man to exit.  He stood in place, a shocked expression on his face.  The doors closed themselves and she tapped the elevator button, “Alister!”  The doors jerked back open.  She hadn't recognized him at first, without his robes.  “What is that?” she pointed at his shirt.  It looked like tactical gear, thick and slightly reflective.  It covered him from his neck to the base of his fingers, zipping up the center.  

“It’s an assistive device,” as he signed a robotic voice translated for him.  He stepped out of the elevator and joined them in the hall.

Tatiana scratched her head, “I don't know what question to ask first.”

“We can talk later.  Right now I’m supposed to advise the mayor.”

“Advise the mayor?!”

“I said I’d explain later,” Alister touched her shoulder gently, “There’s a hotel across the street.  Go book a room and I’ll meet you there later.”

Amber punched the elevator button.  It was still on the top floor, and the doors slid open.  “Come on Holiness,” Amber steered her into the car, “Let’s do what Bill says.”

Carl stepped in next to them and they descended.  “My brain hurts,” she said to him.

“Yeah, well I’m terrified,” he responded.

“You are?” Tatiana looked at Carl’s face.  His eyes were a steady, soft red, his lips tipped up in a small smile.

“The Wizard of Oz, Tati,” he reminded her, “You said I was the Lion.”