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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Ancalagon - 98. Chapter 98

“Is there any way to bring him out of that?” I wasn’t even sure what it meant.

“Ordinarily? No. Our minds are different from most species. We can retreat within our memories, sort of lock our consciousness away. It’s the opposite of learning how to bring forth memories as we become adults instead of needing to be taught.”

Which means the male who attacked, or at least who was left holding the remaining silver ball thing, wasn’t young. Seedrah was still learning from Garjah, which meant he couldn’t activate his racial memories fully without help. I assumed the opposite would be true.

“But Timok can do something?”

“Yes, he’s developed a drug. It’s another controversy—the main one I was embroiled in before I met you.” Garjah ran his hand over my neck and squeezed my shoulder. “He studied my mother, and me, along with several others who had the ability to access more than one set of memories. Timok developed a drug to help our brains create connections that could make it easier to connect with new information, new learning.”

“Oh, I bet the Kardoval didn’t like that.” Not with their power being centered in being the repository of all the racial knowledge.

“No, they didn’t. But, all that aside, in the course of his study he also found a way to suppress the memories, which would return our attacker to consciousness despite his intentions.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Ases leaned forward. “You guys have racial memories? That you can consciously access?”

“In a way. I know the knowledge of my forebears who held the same abilities I do. Not their memories, not their consciousness, but their skills are mine.” Garjah leaned forward and tapped a few buttons on one of the screens.

“Wow.” Ases raised both eyebrows. “You have got to be going nuts with wanting to study that.”

I shrugged. I did, but that was more cultural than my central focus. Besides, if Timok was already that far long studying them, I’d have to work with him and that was not happening.

“Timok is coming in the morning; we will head back together.”

 

“Well, you’re looking healthy. You can thank me anytime.”

“Nope.” I should have known Timok would come in and be obnoxious. It was his default setting. How could someone with such a serious job, who did amazing work like Garjah described, act like such a child? I put a bite in my mouth and chewed, ignoring him.

Ases tilted his head, watching with his eyebrows raised. He gave a slow pan up and down Timok’s body, and I nearly gagged. That had better be a look cataloging the differences between Timok and the security officers who Ases had spent the most time with.

Timok was slender, and his green coloring was lighter in most places except for the ridges that went alongside his temples and back over his head. He also wore a tunic, the rich blue edged with orange.

His fashion sense was way off, and he was far too dramatic for me. I’d take my sandal-wearing, kilt-clad security officer with the stern expression who was glaring down at me any day. “What?” I asked defensively.

“Stay here where it’s safe. Timok and I will be back as soon as possible, but I don’t want you running around outside. If there’s any sign of trouble, go straight to the security suite and lock the door. Ases has already given his mech orders to secure the property if there’s an intruder.”

I felt like giving him a mock salute, but I knew how much it scared him to leave me alone. “Bouncer will be with me, and Ases has his mech. We’re safer than you,” I said. “So how about you promise to come back in one piece?”

He did salute me, bowing his head. “Of course. I’ll even comm you before we head back.”

 

Once again left alone, I pushed the food around on my plate with the tip of the knife left beside my plate. “I’m so sick of being left behind,” I mumbled.

“So do something about it.” Ases was full of great advice, as always.

“Like what?” I pushed my plate away. I’d clean it up later. “I need to move. You done?”

“Sure. What do you want to do?”

“Let’s walk around.” I honestly hadn’t seen that much of the house outside of the atrium, bedroom, and kitchen, and of course the security suite. When Garjah was with me, I didn’t see much beyond him. He consumed my attention.

“You do have a nice place here.” We looked around, poking in corners and moving things. The windows on the backside of the house looked out on a wide expanse of wild nature. The atrium looked wild, but this was completely different. The bright morning light didn’t even penetrate beyond a few feet.

Ases’ comm beeped. He glanced down, and then his eyes widened. “What the stars?”

“What?”

He tapped it, and a holo popped up. The front doors of the house were wide open, and there were Four Arms sneaking inside that I didn’t recognize. Worse, they held weapons in each hand.

“Could they be with Garjah?”

“No, he said he’d comm first. That is his transport, but I don’t recognize anyone.”

“We have to get to the suite.”

“There’s no way.” I turned to the window. “We have to go out here.” I hit the sensor, and the window slid open soundlessly. “Out the window, and shift when you get under that bush. It’s safer.”

Bouncer was growling, his ears pricked forward. “No, you go too.” I pushed him, and he jumped out after Ases.

I couldn’t be sure they didn’t have air support, so we’d do best to disappear into the jungle. I hopped out of the window and tapped the sensor to shut it again so we might get a little lead time. Ases’ robe was on the ground.

“Go. Run”

Copyright © 2020 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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