Elliot-7 chimed the hour throughout New Rydynn Memorial Hospital. It was time for a shift change and the lobby was suddenly filled with white coated doctors and nurses in scrubs. Each made their way to their stations or their beds. As the lobby slowly cleared, a nurse, dressed in the UoM uniform, remained at the front desk. She took a seat as she tugged at a lock of mousy hair. The girl leaned forward on her elbows and clicked her tongue against her teeth.Azrael's instrumental melody wafted about the room, as if a pleasant aroma; background music, yet it called out to be heard in its own way. The song slowly came to a halt, ending on a long, dissonant chord. It reminded those who listened, that though the music may have been soothing, the world that surrounded them was not. Azrael sighed a bit and set the wooden instrument down next to him. He stretched and looked about idly.
A tall man came out of the ER, burly rather than fat. His hair fell in a shaggy mop over his eyes and ears. The man's right arm was bandaged from elbow to wrist and he wore it in a sling. He wore a mismatched assortment of clothes -- a red shirt worn under a blue one, worn under a button-down shirt that may have been white at one time under a coat. A couple of pairs of trousers -- each one sewn up in the knee and sported holes burnt into the fabric.
The man raked the fingers of his left hand through his hair. The gesture briefly revealed ice blue eyes, then the bangs, which were too long, flopped back into his eyes. The moment was enough for him to look around and see. He seemed a bit off-balanced, as though unused to only having one arm.
The tall, burly man managed to find a seat and through his bangs he quietly regarded the instrument next to Azrael. "Ain't seen one of them in a long time." He nodded.
Azrael looked up. "Eh?" He glanced down at the instrument, then looked back up and smiled. "Just found it layin' 'round in some ruins. Sorta picked up how ta play it, but I haven't the foggiest what it's called."
"Seen a picture of one once." Still nodding, the man caught himself before he leaned his bandaged arm on his knee.
"Really?" Azrael picked the instrument up and held it in its playing position. "What's it called, d'ya know?"
The other man's brow knit, his face suddenly cavernous. "Eh, I'm thinkin' they called it a -- a..." He rubbed the new growth of beard on his chin. "A well, damn. Heck if I know now."
Azrael chuckled a bit. "Hey, that's fine."
"Brain's full of holes these days," he tapped his temple with a big finger.
"Can't blame ya, the way things are nowadays." Azrael chuckled again and started strumming absently, a sort of half-cheery tune.
With a deep laugh the man agreed, "Ain't that the truth, brother."
Azrael's hands were still busy playing the unknown instrument, so he simply nodded by way of introduction. "Name's Azrael."
The burly man gave a simple nod, since his hand was useless. He took a moment before he shared his name; seeming taken by Azrael's idle music. Finally, he commented, "Nice music, Azrael. Name's Marshall. Marshall Demoss."
"Hey, thanks. I do what I can, y'know?" Azrael nodded. "S'a pleasure, Marshall."
With his chin on his chest, Marshall stretched his long legs out. "Can I ask you something, Azrael?"
"Shoot, man." Azrael still strummed away. Now and again he added in a bit of an improvised flare, running up the board sticking out from the front of the instrument and back down again.
"Yeah, you know any of the docs around this place?" Marshall watched Azrael's fingers move from beneath his bangs.
"Personally?" Azrael shook his head. "Nah. Only by name tags and other people's conversations and stuff."
Marshall frowned, "You ever seen one called Mirandahh?" His fingers again combed through the greasy hair.
"Why d'you ask?" Azrael furrowed his brow in thought. He looked down at his hands at a particular tough riff. After a few moments he shook his head. "Don't think I've seen any Mirandahh."
The voice of the computer rang out in its usual cheery manner from the overhead speakers. "Mirandahh is currently absent without leave."
Azrael motioned to the overhead speakers. "There ya go."
Marshall cocked his head toward the speakers, the expression in his eyes hidden behind all that hair. "Elliot 7 -- I remember you."
"Memories are something you huumunns tend to be fond of." Elliot responded, "Personally, I haven't much use for them since I don't have them in the traditional sense of the word," the happy-toned, dismembered voice droned on.
A grin split Marshall's face as he leaned toward Azrael. "Never did know when to shut up."
"I can see that." Az chuckled. He continued improvising on the instrument. His fingers steadily increased the speed and moved in more complicated patterns.
"This AWOL business has me puzzled." The burly man watched Azrael's fingers fly over the instrument as he continued. "Not like her to just run off."
"Agreed. Paperwork is piling up since she wandered away," came the ever practical computer's response.
"Who, y'mean that Mirandahh woman?" Az shrugged. "I'd love ta help ya, man. If it's not like her, maybe it wasn't her." His eyes were on the instrument, keeping his words from flowing as smoothly as they normally would without his concentration expended on the instrument.
"Anybody lookin' for her, Elliot?" Marshall asked, his tone hopeful.
"Not that I am currently aware of."
At that, Marshall let his graze drift around the room. "Uh huh -- just like this bloody hospital."
"Don't like it here?" Az could hear the frustration in the man's voice.
"Never did." Marshall sat up straight and his knee began to bounce. "So you know what I did?"
"What's that?"
"I joined the Freemen!" Marshall barked and motioned as if to slap his knee. "Now if that ain't a bunch of idiots, running around with their fingers up their noses."
Azrael blinked in surprise. He slipped up on his playing for a moment, but recovered quickly and looked up at Marshall. "You're -- you're with the Freemen?"
Marshall looked down his nose at Azrael. "Does it matter, brother?"
The younger man shook his head and looked back down to his fingers. "No -- no."
Marshall, about to clap his hands together, looked dumbfounded when only the elbow of his right arm moved. "Jeez, never gonna get used to this."
Azrael laughed heartily. "Sucks to be you, man," he joked.
Marshall laughed along with him, then he suddenly sobered. "Elliot, old pal. You have any relevant information about Mirandahh's absence?"
"I do not. At least nothing that I am aware that can be made public."
"Damn bureaucratic machine." Demoss muttered. "Not even for her brother?"
Azrael coughed. "Waitaminnit. Yer her brother? His playing slowed to a stop, unable to concentrate on it and the discussion at the same time.
Marshall gave the speakers a fair glare, then nodded to Azrael. "Yeah, that's me."
"Hey, man -- I'm sorry." Azrael's interest in the discussion seemed redoubled.
Demoss snapped back pointedly, "You take her?"
With a blink, Azrael realized how he'd sounded. "No way. I was just tellin' ya I'm sorry y'lost yer sis."
"Wha'? You think she's dead?" Both of Marshall's knees were bouncing now, obviously not encouraged by Azrael's well-meant sympathy.
Azrael shrugged. "Dunno. Y'can't rule out th' possibility, though."
"Just not like her, you know?" Demoss shook his head. "Walking out ... something must've gone down."
Az nodded. "S'what I'm talkin' about. Foul play."
Demoss's cheeks puffed out as he released a long breath. "Heck, I don't even know what she looks like these days."
"Fraggit." Azrael muttered softly as he stood. He swung the instrument around his back. It's been great, Marshall, but I think I'm needed." With a vague explanation about doing something for his boss, he thanked the man for the conversation. Azrael quickly made his way out of the building and into the surrounding, oppressive, night. Marshall rubbed his beard absently as he watched the kid depart.
A man named Darian entered the hospital. His worn black boots struck upon the floor as he waded through the sea of white coats in search of someone. With a short scan of the room, Darian located the one he sought. He made his way toward his supplier who appeared to be deep in the midst of a conversation with a woman.
"Very selfish..." Black Caine shook his head slightly, speaking of the doctors working at NRM Hospital.
"Phooey, there are some real nice docs in this place." The woman named Bliss Lovejoy asserted. "Course there are some real jerks too."
"All of them make accusations that I gave the boy the sickness -- all because they feel guilt now over the fact that they could have possibly prevented it." Caine ranted in his own defense, "And instead of accepting the responsibility for their own actions, they seek to blame someone else."
"The docs taking care of Keahgann are doing a fine job," Bliss insisted. "The kid's gaining weight, he's smiling, laughing and he's not scared all the time."
"I am glad, Bliss. But it doesn't excuse their actions in other matters."
Bliss nodded. "True."
"And since they wish to wrongly accuse me of attempted murder, I won't trust them to treat my sickness."
"They are naturally suspicious Caine, don't take it personally. It's bad for business." Bliss sighed and watched the workers in white flutter about.
"I don't see them doing this to you, Bliss." Caine regarded her pointedly.
"I'm harmless." Bliss scoffed with a smile.
"Perhaps you would not feel as defensive for them if it was you the medics were continually threatening with violence and accusations of such horrible crimes, all of which have no basis or foundation."
Bliss nodded again. "I do see your point Caine."
"I thought you might," Caine replied almost smugly, "you're an intelligent woman."
"My grandparents made sure of that," Bliss deadpanned. She raked her hand back through her pale, rough cut hair.
Darian came to a halt about three feet from Caine. He rolled an unlit smoke between his fingers as he waited for Caine to finish.
Caine's pearl gray eyed glance found Darian with a nod of recognition. "Good evening, Dar. Is there something I can do for you?"
A curt nod was his only response as he placed the cigarette between his lips. His only words came in a soft, but slightly gravelly voice. "I need supplies."
"I see." Caine sat up straighter, slid the compad from his jacket and put on his business demeanor. "Please sit, Bliss is quite trustworthy. What is it I can do for you this time?"
Bliss crossed her legs at the ankles and glanced up at Darian. He turned his dark browns toward Bliss with a slight smile. He shifted his gaze back when hearing Caine and chuckled a bit. "I need supplies."
"Yes. So I heard. What kind?" Caine's storm gray eyes leveled at Dar.
Darian unholstered what looked to be a Glok-19 and pulled the clip. He tossed the clip at Caine. "Some of those."
Caine caught the clip and inspected it. He noted there was one round left in it. "The clip or the ammo? Or both?" Caine lifted his gaze back to Darian.
"Both would be nice. I only have one other clip, and the spring is damaged. And it's hard to use two guns with only one clip." Darian casually scratched three days growth of a beard.
"Indeed." Caine nodded, "What type of ammo are you seeking? Special order or basic?" He returned his gaze to the clip.
Darian shrugged. "Same as last time."
"Standard it is..." Caine paused a beat before adding, "And then staggered with special, right?"
Darian nodded and glanced about the room as though nervous that someone might have overheard. Caine glanced to Bliss with a questioning gaze. He leaned toward her, clearly to get her to do the same. Bliss listened to the bargaining with half an ear. She leaned in toward Caine with a raised brow and nodded once. Caine returned the nod before continuing with Darian in a voice quiet enough to stay within the bounds of their table. "What have you got for trade this time, Dar?"
"What are you looking for?"
"Well," Caine began, "six liters of water, purity index 7 at least, and two pints of pharmaceutical grade penicillin."
"The water's easy." Darian shrugged, chuckling. "For me, anyway..."
"And the rest?" Caine knew the penicillin was way over priced. He tapped some of the pads on the comp-pad as he watched and waited for Darian's response.
Darian sighed, "Well, I'll give you the six liters of purity index 7..."
Bliss listened to the wheeling and dealing. Caine, always observant, seemed to know what was coming. "Yes?" He prodded.
"...and two liters of 9." Darian continued.
"Is that so?" Caine interjected. "And the medicine?"
Darian's brown eyes narrowed a bit. "Why do you want the medicine?"
"Dar -- I don't ask you what you want your supplies for, and on the same token, I have no reason to explain my needs. Do you wish the supplies, or not?"
"I hate dealing with you sometimes." Dar sighed again and muttered a few scathing curses. "I've only got one pint."
"Six of PI-7, two of PI-9, and the pint. Deal?"
Dar sighed once more. "Throw in a cell pack. And I'll even do a job for you."
"A cell pack? Caine raised a brow. "You're asking a lot for such a small price, Dar."
"Ah, but Caine -- you know that I really have more than what we're agreeing on. And you know that index 9 is hard to find."
"And the job? This is my choice of subject?"
Dar shrugged. "Sure."
Caine gave a final tap of the keypad and his hand extended to Dar, in his ritual sealing of a deal. Darian clasped his hand and confirmed the deal. Caine tapped the pad a few more times. "I will have delivery scheduled for six days?"
"Is that as fast as you can get it?"
"You want new clips made, Dar. This calls for tooling. And to house your more special ammo, it has to be enforced."
"Yer gettin' slack on me Caine. But it is faster than the others."
"Of course." Caine was well aware of his assets. "I will have your other item by tonight."
Darian brightened visibly. "Excellent."
"Was there anything else?"
Darian pulled out his zippo and flicked it open, and watched the flame a moment. "I guess not..."
Adeline Frost stretched and yawned as she made her way to the lobby. Comp-pad in hand, she found a place to sit. The young woman reached to fix her long white-blonde hair into a rather unforgiving bun at the base of neck. Satisfied, her arms fell to her lap and a finger or two passed over the compad to allow her access to the new files Larkne tossed her way this morning. "Hopeless..." she murmured. She reached up to rub her eyes beneath her thin framed glasses. Another pointed sigh escaped her and she hummed something softly to herself as icy blues crossed over the files. Her fingers ran along the pad. So many notes to take. "Give into despair and give into the Nothing," she murmured softly to herself with a little personal chuckle.
Jana DeMon ran in, her raven and lavender hair plastered to her face in long strands from the rain. She paused at the doorway to squeeze most of the rain out of her hair with a pale hand before she ventured all the way in. Shedding her damp leather jacket, she muttered, "Damn weather."
The nurse at the front desk watched the woman's entrance -- assessing whether she needed medical care. Jana went over to the desk, her violet eyes expressionless as she looked at the nurse. "This stuff won't make my hair fall out or anything, will it?"
The nurse smiled a little. "The rain? Only if you're out in it too long."
With a slight nod the woman inquired, "How long's too long?"
The nurse tugged hard on a lock of hair and shrugged. "No one knows."
"That's reassuring..." The rain soaked woman smirked sarcastically.
The girl tried a consoling smile. "I'm sure it will grow back."
"Yeah, maybe yours will too if you get stuck out there." The nurse cringed at the retort and pretended to sort through some files at the desk.
At the sound of chuckling from nearby, Jana glanced at Bliss. "Yeah, I'm really amusing huh. My scalp's burning -- Ha ha."
"Buy a damn hat if your so vain." Bliss advised with a pleasant grin.
Jana narrowed her eyes at Bliss. "Give me some damn money and I will."
"I'm not the local charity. Earn your goods like the rest of us." Bliss leaned back on the couch. She watched the dark-haired woman as she walked away from the desk and found a chair in the corner with a dark and brooding expression. Bliss addressed her again, this time in a kinder tone. "Ya know, if ya asked the nurse politely she might give you some cleaner to get the burn out of your hair."
"You know, it's not polite to laugh at people." Jana responded, obviously still feeling stung.
"Chuckled at the vanity, not the person." Bliss corrected.
"Could've fooled me. And I wasn't necessarily being vain, just concerned." Her point made, Jana looked over to the nurse again. "Hey, do you have anything I could wash my hair with?"
As if by rote, the nurse dropped a shower card on the counter. "Second floor, showers on the left." She tugged on that lock of hair, as if determined to yank it out someday.
Jana got up and walked back to the desk. "Thanks. And sorry, I haven't been having the greatest day." She took the card and headed for the elevator. She rubbed her scalp as she slipped into the elevator and by the time she found the shower room the burning had spread to her fingertips. She winced and darted in, the door closing loudly behind her.
==
Bliss glanced up to the ceiling out of some strange habit. "Evening Elliot."
"Hello Bliss," the computer greeted her. Elliot's cheerful voice emanated from a speaker in the ceiling. "Anything you require this evening, Bliss?"
"Not really Elliot. I've sort of given up on the locating my father search. I don't have enough information to whittle down all the entries in your memory banks." Bliss paused a beat, then seemed to reconsider. "Elliot?"
"Yes, Bliss?"
"Where is the nearest Church outpost that -- well, isn't an armed encampment?"
"Unknown, Bliss. I could provide you with the information that was last entered into the database -- but such information in this case is quite old and probably not accurate. Last recorded Church movements have all centered on Crusader-class tank registry #618. All such movements have been within a few hundred mile radius of New Rydynn."
"Thank you Elliot, that will do for a start and if I get any updated information I will pass it along to you."
Caine shot a curious glance to Bliss, then back to Dar. "I would ask you to join me, but Bliss runs this table." Caine chuckled in amusement.
Bliss glanced at Caine, then Darian. "Have a seat," she invited. "I don't bite."
Darian smiled broadly. "No, I bet you don't." He slid into a seat opposite Bliss.
Caine sat back again, his business done. He rubbed his fevered temple, obviously fatigued from his illness. Across from him, Bliss absently rubbed the back of her neck. "Got a ride back to the compound Caine?"
"Of course, Bliss."
Bliss nodded, "I've got to go check on the boys. I promised Keahgann I'd tell him another story before I left."
"All right, Bliss. I will return to the compound shortly to discuss the new tooling."
"I'm heading there myself once the story is done. I'll make you some nice bird soup." She grinned. "My Gran's recipe. It'll make you feel better. Someone has to look after you with Sierra away." She rose to her feet. "So many ill boys to take care of these days, maybe I should have joined the medics." As Caine chuckled at her comment, she resisted the impulse to ruffle his hair like she did with Keahgann. Instead, she headed for the elevator. "See you later Caine."
"Absolutely, Bliss." Caine's gray eyes followed her form as she took her leave.
Salomae calmly stepped in, shoulders hunched, her slender face obscured by the seemingly endless brim of a hat a few hundred times the size of her head. Slender, surprisingly pale fingers, with those almost-clean fingernails -- still kept short even after the loss of her cause -- pulled at the hat's brim. She slowly eased the hat upward so that the bleak gray of her eyes had something of a view from behind the tangled black curls.
Salomae tried to keep the hat suspended, but her demeanor grew even more lethargic, and she seemed to forget about the task at hand as the hat slipped its way slowly back down over her forehead. The back of a lazy hand slowly reached up under the hat to press against her forehead and her slender form swayed somewhat as she became fairly dizzy.
Jana smoothed her newly washed, towel dried hair with a hand as she took the elevator back down to the lobby. She emerged as the doors opened and went back to the desk to drop the shower card on the counter. "Thanks again..." The dark haired woman saw Salomae out of the corner of her eye and recognized her from the cafeteria. Jana quirked a dark eyebrow at her unsteadiness. "Need some help?"
Salomae stumbled backward. Her prominent shoulder-blades made an unnatural cracking sound as they made physical contact with the wall.
Jana glanced around at the diminishing array of people. She looked back to Sal sharply as she heard the cracking and muttered an oath. "... Are you okay? Jana stepped over to her a little hesitantly.
Salomae blinked in confusion and pressed the side of her head against the cool wall. "What? I..." she mumbled.
Jana stopped a few inches from Salomae, her eyes flickering like violet flames as she watched Sal carefully. Jana kept her voice purposely calm and flat. "That didn't sound good when you hit the wall like that... You need some help?"
"I -- Ohh..." Salomae groaned and dropped slowly to her haunches. Her face was taking on a pale green hue as she lowered her head to situate it between her knees.
"What's wrong...?" Jana crouched down next to her, simply watching to make sure she didn't hurt herself. As she got close enough to note Sal's pallor, her dark eyebrows flew up and she called back over her shoulder, "Hey, I know this is a stupid question for a hospital, but is there a doctor around?"
The nurse jumped up from behind the front desk. "What's wrong?"
Jana motioned the nurse over. "I don't know -- But she doesn't look too good."
The woman's face was about an inch away from the floor. Finally, her fingers slowly pulled her hat upward as she vomited. The nurse scurried over to Salomae just in time for the spew. "Oh dear!"
Jana backed away a little to give her air, and avoiding the mess. "Damn..." She rose to her feet, wrinkling her nose slightly as she stepped back against the wall. "Hope she'll be okay." The woman crossed her arms over her chest as she leaned against the wall.
The mousy-haired nurse moved right in and placed a hand on Salomae's back. "Let's get you to an exam room." She flashed a brief, reassuring smile back at Jana and then turned back to help Salomae up.
On the way to the exam room, Salomae murmured, "Mera -- Gods, Ritchie..." She trailed off at another attack of nausea. Another nurse joined the first and managed to get Salomae into an Exam room, janitors in tow. One nurse got Sal set up on the table, while the other cleaned her up. Once Sal was cleaned up, the second nurse took her pulse and blood pressure.
"Now, can you tell me how you're feeling, hon?" The first nurse queried gently. The woman was keeping up a stoic demeanor, but the nurse noted that her face was still that lovely green color. The nurses continued to work with Salomae; One gave her an antacid to drink.
Salomae pulled away. "Mmm, not hungry, thanks."
The nurse reassured her in a firm but kind tone, "This will make your stomach feel better, hon. Just drink it, okay?"
==
Marshall Demoss pushed up and lumbered over to Adeline. The woman shifted her icy blue gaze to the large man as he approached, though not much of his face could be seen through the beard and shaggy hair. Her voice was soft and cool. "May I help you?"
"Excuse me, ma'am. I was wonderin'. You work here?" He shifted his stance and adjusted his sling.
"In a manner of speaking." The woman offered a chilled smile. "What can I do for you?"
Marshall returned an easy smile that broke his face up into craggy lines. "Yeah, well, you know Dr. Demoss? Mirandahh Demoss?"
Adeline's keen mind reached back, almost appearing to access files rather than actually thinking. "Ah yes.... Mira. I know her." Abruptly, her brows drew together. "Sit down won't you? What would you like to know about Mira?"
"Thank you, ma'am." Marshall eased down to a seat next to her. He combed his fingers through his hair, again the ice blue eyes were revealed before he let the bangs fall once more. "Well, ma'am. I'm lookin' for her."
A soft frown creased her brows again as Adeline's eyes flickered over him with concern. "I'm afraid she's -- well..." Adeline cleared her throat. "She's not with us right now. There are hospital security looking for her as we speak. She will be found and fine."
Marshall paused a moment, then barked out a hearty laugh. "Security, eh? You wanna tell me just what happened?"
Adeline adjusted her glasses. "Well -- that is -- I'm not sure of details. I wouldn't like to misinform you. Can I ask what relationship you have to Mera?"
Marshall studied the ceiling through the lank strands of hair. "Well now, I would be her brother."
Adeline coughed and managed a strained, "Oh -- I see."
"That's twice folks have choked when I mention that." Demoss chuckled again and shook his head. His knee began to bounce.
Adeline let out a little curse. "Perhaps we could talk about it later. I'm afraid the psych ward needs me. Look, I work here and I'll get you all the information I can, okay?" She stood nervously, her form rigid and controlled.
Marshal stood quickly. He towered over Adeline. "Yeah, sure, doc." His tone was clearly disappointed but he didn't push any farther.
Adeline smiled warmly for a moment then the smile vanished. "Take care huh?" She turned and left the lobby.
"I finally get a leave and she ain't here. And no one knows why." Marshall ranted to the air. "Damn."
Jana's gaze shifted to Marshall again. "Hey... I know why."
He turned toward Jana, just a hitch in his step as he was still getting used to balance with one arm. "Yeah?"
Jana's eyes flickered very slightly. Her voice was flat and devoid of feeling as she seemed to struggle to keep her emotions under tight rein. "I don't know it all, but I saw what everyone else did when they first found out."
Marshall's attention perked at that. "Yeah? What happened?"
"Unless someone found out something else in the meantime, no one knows where the hell she is."
He took a step closer, "Yeah? What happened?"
"You sure you want to know?" Jana hesitated. "It's not pretty..."
The man shifted, growing tired of the run around. "Ma'am, just tell me. I'm a big boy."
Jana nodded and finally let the other shoe drop. "She was kidnapped at knife point."
"Someone kidnapped Mirandahh at knife point and she didn't maim him?" Marshall bellowed, incredulous.
"Some thug came in and grabbed her, and they don't know what happened to her. They got it on the security cam or something. They showed it on the terminal a few nights ago."
"Damn, I taught that girl how to react to knives. She should've known better."
"She didn't have much of a chance to. He had the knife to her throat, so if she tried anything she would've been dead." Jana leaned back against the wall. "Sorry no one had the guts to tell you before me. They probably could've broken the news better than I did."
"I guess. I just can't believe Mirandahh would let herself be taken," he grumbled. "Where's her room?"
"I gotta go." Jana picked up her rain soaked jacket and put it over her head as she abruptly slipped out the doors.
"Gods be damned. Can't get a straight answer to save my life." He stalked, tension building as he paced back and forth.
A man attired in white walked down the stairs. He looked over some papers as he descended to the lobby. The man in the white coat glanced at the stalking Marshall. "Can I help you? I'm Doctor Jansenn"
Marshall wheeled on Jansenn. "Yeah. I'm lookin' for Mirandahh Demoss. You know her?"
"I know her."
Marshall couldn't quite keep the anger from his voice this time. "Where. Is. She?"
"She was abducted a while ago. We haven't been able to find her," Jansenn explained. "She left. Went to find a friend of ours."
"She left?" Marshall's voice went flat.
"Yes, she left hoping to find Mera."
The burly man scowled, though it was hidden under his beard and shaggy hair. "So what you're telling me is, some chick named Mera gets kidnapped, and Mirandahh goes looking for her?"
"That's it exactly. Mirandahh left with Garth Lowinn, hoping to track her." Dr. Jansenn's voice dropped. "Despite my pleading to stop her."
"Who the hell is -- wait a minute -- Commander Garth Lowinn?" Suddenly suspicious, Marshall demanded, "What she doing hanging out with Freemen?"
"He left the freeman. Apparently she had talked him into being security for the hospital. They left together to try and find Mera. I haven't heard from either since."
Demoss slammed his fist against his thigh. "Dammit. See I knew she shoulda gone with us. She'd be okay. Not stuck in this damn..." He growled the last word, "Hospital."
"Well, she's not stuck in this hospital. She made that very clear."
"Bout time she wised up," Marshall muttered and nodded, more to himself. He turned away, hot to find his sister now. He continued on his way and stalked out into the night. Dr. Jansenn let the man go, and went back to his own work; things would sort themselves all out ... in time.