NaNoWriMo Chapter 2!
Nov. 2nd, 2010 07:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
realsorienToday's total was 3067 words, half at work, half at home.
In hindsight, Ranah realized that those words could be properly considered a false prophesy. She’d been led from the cell to an elevator at the end of the hall. Before she entered it, a hood was placed on her head by the two Church agents waiting for her. Constable Kerr looked like he was about to protest, but a glance from one of the pair ended that almost instantly.
A quick ride up the elevator, followed by a short walk to what Ranah guessed was a parking garage followed. They led her forward, and she considered teleporting blind to get away- she’d done it before, but it wasn’t pleasant and she often ended up unconscious. If she managed to appear above a river or lake, that would be it for her.
“Ms. Nevandilou.” The voice startled her; until that moment neither of her escorts had spoken.
“Yes?”
“You will enter the van, and leave the hood on. We will not restrain you unless you offer resistance. Do not attempt to use your Gift- the result would be unpleasant for you.”
“I wasn’t planning to... But what would happen?”
“You are not alone in possessing a Gift.” With that, she was guided into the waiting vehicle. She was seated on a bench that ran along the side of the van’s rear section, and she heard one of the pair seat himself across from her. A moment later the driver’s door opened, and the van rocked slightly with the entry of the other escort. The van started with a hum of electric motors.
“May... Can I ask a question?”
“Within limits, yes.” The voice came from the man seated across from her.
“Do you have names?”
She heard slight motion, as if someone shifted position. “I am Confessor Ames. My partner is Confessor Vincenz.”
“Where are we going?”
“I cannot tell you that.”
That non-answer didn’t help Ranah’s nerves in the least. “Am I in trouble?”
“You are a woman wanted for multiple counts of theft, unlawful entry and resisting arrest. I believe that qualifies as trouble.” Anyone else might have said that with a hint of sardonic humor; from Confessor Ames it sounded like someone reading from a phone book.
“Why... Why does the Church want me?”
“You are a criminal who used her God-given Gift to commit crimes. Thus the interest of the Church.”
For a time there was silence. Fear had returned to her, sitting in a cold lump in her stomach. The van made very few turns, mostly following a straight line as if on a freeway. Finally, she had do say something.
“Were you following me?”
“No.”
“Were the police?”
“Not according to the records. The raid on your building was to arrest you and several other wanted individuals who have been spotted over the previous few weeks.”
“Someone was following me, at least since I was in Constantinople.”
Ames said something to his partner in what sounded like Latin. For the first time there was some emotion in his words- agitation. Vincenz answered back in the same language, and she felt the van accelerate. “Ms. Nevandilou, how frequently did you notice or sense this supposed follower?”
“Whenever I was outside of an Enclave area.”
“Every time?”
“Yes.” Ranah hugged herself; somehow, having her escorts nervous at her words made the situation worse.
Confessor Vincenz said, “five minutes.”
“What?”
“We are five minutes to our destination. Be ready to exit the vehicle quickly, and stay with me.”
“Why are you worried?”
“I cannot give details. But there have been security breaches against the Church over the last six months.”
The van came to a halt, and she felt the vehicle rock as both Confessors opened doors and stepped out. “Come on. Quickly!” At the words, she stepped out. Ames took her arm and led her at a rapid pace to some stairs. “Up the steps and into the aircraft.”
Ranah balked. “Where are we going?”
“I will carry you, girl. Move. You’ll know your destination soon enough.”
She swallowed, and went. It wasn’t a large plane- maybe a corporate jet or a related craft. Ames guided her to a seat, and a moment later she heard the hatch close and seal. “Here.” She felt hands at her throat, then the hood was pulled off. The cabin was dimly lit, and there were no windows at all in the passenger section.
The plane’s engines started to whir, which soon rose to a pitched whine as the aircraft started to taxi. “I’ve never flown before,” she said.
“Its just another way to travel. Nothing exciting. Buckle your seat belt.” Responded Ames.
She felt her stomach bottom out as the plane left the ground. The entire takeoff had taken less than five minutes. “Is it normal for a plane to take off this quickly?”
“No. We had priority. And it was a private airfield.”
Her ears popped as the plane rose. Minutes later, a little electronic ‘ding’ sounded and a sign lit indicating that belts could be unbuckled. “I’m not going to a Church trial or anything like that, am I.” Her voice shook with the words, but she managed to get them out. Ames didn’t answer immediately, watching her from his own seat. She noticed that he’d not undone his seat belt.
“I’m not supposed to tell you anything, Ms. Nevandilou. Its not my place, nor my orders.”
“Tell me those then.” She felt good being defiant; it was better than being scared.
“We, Confessor Vincenz and myself were directed to proceed to the facility where you were being held. We were to present the custody-transfer papers to the director of the facility, then retrieve you for transport to a Church facility. This was delayed by a full day when you received the overdose of the tranquilizer; a Church Confessor is looking into that matter.”
“You don’t know why they want me?”
“I was not informed.”
“Do you dislike me?”
Ames sighed. “Ms. Nevandilou, I am an agent of the Church. In essence I am very like a member of the American FBI or the international police force called Interpol. I do not know everything, and unless I require the information I am generally not told more than is required. I have no significant opinion one way or another.”
He fell silent, and Ranah did the same. Wishing that she had a window to look out of, or at least a book, she ended up napping in her seat. She woke later, a blanket now tucked about her as her ears popped again. Without a watch and with no clocks in the cabin she had no idea how long she’d slept; and she really didn’t want to ask Confessor Ames.
“Did you sleep well?” Once again his abrupt comment startled her. She composed herself before answering, “I think so. Did you get me the blanket?”
Ames nodded, his expression still extremely neutral.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. We’re on approach now.”
“Approach?”
“We’re descending for a landing.”
“Oh.”
The descent was as quick as the takeoff, and shortly there was a muffled, dull squeal as the tires of the plane contacted the runway. It lost speed rapidly, then taxied for fifteen minutes before finally coming to a halt.
“Please put the hood back on, Ms. Nevandilou.” Ames handed the black cloth over to her. “We part ways here. Your escort to your destination awaits.”
She put the hood on once again, the helplessness of her situation bringing the fear back once again. She heard the hatch unseal, and Ames took her arm and led her to the door. A blast of heat hit her, carrying familiar scents- she knew where she was, or at least she was close! She was near the Great Desert, and home! Taking the chance, she attempted to teleport...
And it felt like her mind exploded. She didn’t even scream- she couldn’t. All she saw was white fire, all she felt was agony like nothing she’d felt before. When it faded, she was even more disoriented as to time than before, and she felt hot pavement beneath her. She tried to move, but even that seemed beyond her.
As if from a great distance she heard voices talking, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. She knew the language, but her shattered mind couldn’t assemble the sounds into meaning. The voices were nearby, she thought. Two of them were familiar, but she couldn’t remember who they were.
Hands took hold of her. She didn’t fight; she couldn’t even move. As if she were a sack of potatoes she was hauled off the ground, and soon was in a much cooler place. a wet cloth was wiped across her forehead, and that felt good. She tried to talk, but she only managed an incoherent rambling mutter.
Eventually, she started to understand the world again, and stirred. “I did warn you about trying to use your Gift,” commented Ames.
“Um... What... Happened?”
“The Church recruits the Gifted to serve in the Confessors, as well as for other positions. Vincenz is a form of telepath.”
“A... What?”
“He can touch someone’s mind and talk to them without speaking, and hear their thoughts. He can also send false signals to a person’s brain. When you tried to teleport, you had a seizure instead.”
Ranah decided to remain where she was, which turned out to be back inside the plane, lying on one of the seats fully reclined. Ames continued talking. “Our orders have changed- the directive came while you were... Out of sorts.”
“Changed?”
“We are to accompany you to the facility, as are Confessors Bierce and Johnson.”
Ranah struggled to get her mind working properly. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I am guessing that you’ll not try to utilize your Gift again?”
“... No. No I won’t.”
“Alright. Are you mobile?”
“If we’ll be in a car, yes. Walking... No.”
“That will be sufficient.” He helped her up, replaced the hood and walked her down the stairs once again. Moments later they were in a van that seemed terribly similar to the last, quietly rolling towards her fate. This time however, the van obviously had more passengers. The silence was oppressive- Ranah expected that four people in a vehicle would have some kind of conversation, even with a prisoner in tow. The van sped on without any sound other than the whir of the motor.
After an hour of this, Ranah spoke up again. “Why don’t you talk? Normal people talk. I don’t mean with me... I mean talk. None of you say anything unless I ask a question!”
She heard someone shift in their seat. “Because it’s unnecessary,” said Ames.
“Its not human. People talk.”
Another voice, muttering, said, “you shouldn’t talk.”
“I heard that. You think I wanted to be like this?”
No answer.
“Mr. Ames, do you share that opinion?”
“Confessor Bierce.” Ames actually had emotion again, this time anger. “You will keep your bigotry to yourself. I recommend you read her file to understand the situation.”
“... Sir.” Despite the agreement, Bierce didn’t sound like he wanted to obey the order.
There was the sound of a briefcase opening and closing, and papers being shuffled. Read it. Now. We have another hour, Confessor.”
Ames sighed. “Ms. Nevandilou. I apologize for my associate. Unlike him, I am aware that Bishop Piper vastly exceed his authority in your Marking. Perhaps being Marked was justified, but certainly not to the extent as happened to you.”
“I just want to go home.”
“Tough.”
“Bierce. One more word and you’ll be having words with Bishop Gerhardt.”
There was the sound of papers being thrown to the floor. “Fine. How about you tell us what her deal is then? If she’s so damned precious, tell me why!”
Ames snorted. “Ms. Nevandilou. May I?”
“Okay. Can you take this hood off too?”
“I believe so.” With that, she felt him unhook the hood and lift it off. The van’s interior was plain black. Three of her four escorts sat in the seats around her- Ames across from her next to an angry looking dark-haired man whom she thought was Bierce, and Confessor VIncenz next to her- he looked a bit peaked. The fourth man occupied the driver’s seat, and seemed to be listening to some kind of earpiece. Bierce looked at her, glared then looked away. If there had been a window he’d have been staring out it.
Ames raised an eyebrow to her, then looked at Bierce. “Pay attention. Ms. Nevan-”
“Ranah.”
“Hm?”
“Call me Ranah. My mother was Ms. Nevandilou.”
“Alright. Ranah grew up in New Canterbury. She became involved in petty theft at an early age, both by her own admission and by witness’ accounts. At thirteen her Gift manifested- she’s a teleport, the first seen since Padre Pio.”
Bierce started to pay attention.
Ames continued, watching Confessor Bierce as he did. “She used this ability for minor mischief including further petty thefts, but never revealed the fact that she possessed this ability. When she was seventeen the tenement building she lived in burned down, killing her parents as well as badly injuring a close friend. She finished her schooling, during which time her thefts stopped for a time, then left New Canterbury for New Jerusalem.”
“Once she was there, she obtained a small, Church charity-supported apartment and returned to theft. Once again, the items taken were minor. Low value cosmetics, clothing and food. However, for the first time she encountered real security measures, the likes of which were far less common in the significantly poorer community of her home town.”
“Is this correct so far Ms... Er, Ranah?”
“Yeah. So far.”
“Her activities were recorded on video surveillance, including the use of her ability. Further, several witnesses reported that the thief they witnessed simply vanished. THis led at first to a low-level police investigation, that was moved up the chain of command due to the report of a Gifted individual possessed of limited precognitive abilities. The Inspector assigned was Inspector Collins of the New Jerusalem Police. He followed the leads, and during his investigation rapidly determined that Ranah was not as much a threat as she was a troubled youth. Using a contact with one of her friends, he made contact with her, arranging for a meeting.”
“Matters had escalated, however. Bishop Piper, an ambitious individual in the Church received the reports of a Gifted thief, as well as reports on her teleportational ability. He interfered in the investigation, going as far as to shadow Inspector Collins to the arranged meeting. There, the Bishop confronted the pair, offering violence unless Ranah surrendered to him. Ranah then used her Gift to remove herself and the Inspector from the scene.
“The Bishop had already filed a falsified Order of Marking against her before this. he was charged with abuse of power, but before he faced Tribunal, the order was executed against Ranah. She received a fifth-degree Mark, out of the six rankings. According to protocol, she at worst should have faced a first-degree Mark.”
“The Church defrocked Bishop Piper over the matter, and he has dropped out of sight. Likewise, until her recent capture Ranah had also vanished. And that brings us to the current time, save for one salient point.”
Confessor Bierce, now more subdued asked, “and that would be?”
“During her capture, standard tranquilizer darts were used. The drug was Tricanel, the most common agent used in apprehensions due to its safety. Ranah was shot once, but received a dosage somewhere between eight and twelve times normal. She lived, which surprised everyone.”
“Eight... And Twelve times the dosage.”
“Correct.”
“And she lived.”
Ames smirked. “Obviously.”
Bierce frowned. “Not to belabor the obvious, but someone tried to kill her.”
“That is the assumption, yes.”
“Why?”
“Unknown. However, as I said, her ability is effectively unique. A great number of people would want control of her... Including the Church.”
Ranah’s eyes widened, looking at Ames. “That’s why I’m here?”
Ames’ expression went neutral. “I can honestly say that I’ve not been informed of that, but its a reasonable assumption.”
“But... I just want to go home!”
Bierce looked at Ranah. “I don’t like the Marked. I’m sorry. But... I can see you didn’t deserve it. You need to consider this though. The evidence is someone is after you. While the Church might not be your first choice of a haven, you WILL be safe with us. You won’t on the street.”
Ranah glared. “I’ve done pretty well so far!”
“Yet here we are.”
She slumped back into her seat. Ames looked at her, then back ot Bierce. “Another matter. Ranah informed Confessor VIncenz and myself that since she was in Constantinople, she has been followed whenever outside of Enclave areas.”
Bierce looked again at Ranah, who frowned. “It wasn’t the person following me that caught me...”
“But someone planted that overloaded dart.”
Ranah didn’t have an answer to that.
Ames spoke again. “Regardless, we have a situation. Ranah, you ARE a fugitive, and both Gifted and Marked. The Church has a legitimate interest in your case, and also in your protection given the evidence that there are hostile elements arrayed against you. I’m going to ask you to please go along with this for now. It’s safer for you. I can at least guarantee the Church won’t harm you.”
She glanced at him, then gazed at her feet, thinking. “I’ll... I’ll go along for now. For now. I haven’t a real choice, do I?”
“Not at the moment.”
Bierce nodded to Ames, then picked up the papers he’d scattered on the floor. Arranging them, he made a point of starting to carefully read them through. The remainder of the trip went by quietly, until Ames looked to Ranah once again. “I need you to put on the hood again. It won’t be for long. I know you’ve not really seen anything, but its policy.”
Ranah nodded, and put it on again. It caught on one of her horns, but Ames straightened it for her. “Where are we?”
“Its called Limbo One. Its a research facility, and that’s all I can tell you.
In hindsight, Ranah realized that those words could be properly considered a false prophesy. She’d been led from the cell to an elevator at the end of the hall. Before she entered it, a hood was placed on her head by the two Church agents waiting for her. Constable Kerr looked like he was about to protest, but a glance from one of the pair ended that almost instantly.
A quick ride up the elevator, followed by a short walk to what Ranah guessed was a parking garage followed. They led her forward, and she considered teleporting blind to get away- she’d done it before, but it wasn’t pleasant and she often ended up unconscious. If she managed to appear above a river or lake, that would be it for her.
“Ms. Nevandilou.” The voice startled her; until that moment neither of her escorts had spoken.
“Yes?”
“You will enter the van, and leave the hood on. We will not restrain you unless you offer resistance. Do not attempt to use your Gift- the result would be unpleasant for you.”
“I wasn’t planning to... But what would happen?”
“You are not alone in possessing a Gift.” With that, she was guided into the waiting vehicle. She was seated on a bench that ran along the side of the van’s rear section, and she heard one of the pair seat himself across from her. A moment later the driver’s door opened, and the van rocked slightly with the entry of the other escort. The van started with a hum of electric motors.
“May... Can I ask a question?”
“Within limits, yes.” The voice came from the man seated across from her.
“Do you have names?”
She heard slight motion, as if someone shifted position. “I am Confessor Ames. My partner is Confessor Vincenz.”
“Where are we going?”
“I cannot tell you that.”
That non-answer didn’t help Ranah’s nerves in the least. “Am I in trouble?”
“You are a woman wanted for multiple counts of theft, unlawful entry and resisting arrest. I believe that qualifies as trouble.” Anyone else might have said that with a hint of sardonic humor; from Confessor Ames it sounded like someone reading from a phone book.
“Why... Why does the Church want me?”
“You are a criminal who used her God-given Gift to commit crimes. Thus the interest of the Church.”
For a time there was silence. Fear had returned to her, sitting in a cold lump in her stomach. The van made very few turns, mostly following a straight line as if on a freeway. Finally, she had do say something.
“Were you following me?”
“No.”
“Were the police?”
“Not according to the records. The raid on your building was to arrest you and several other wanted individuals who have been spotted over the previous few weeks.”
“Someone was following me, at least since I was in Constantinople.”
Ames said something to his partner in what sounded like Latin. For the first time there was some emotion in his words- agitation. Vincenz answered back in the same language, and she felt the van accelerate. “Ms. Nevandilou, how frequently did you notice or sense this supposed follower?”
“Whenever I was outside of an Enclave area.”
“Every time?”
“Yes.” Ranah hugged herself; somehow, having her escorts nervous at her words made the situation worse.
Confessor Vincenz said, “five minutes.”
“What?”
“We are five minutes to our destination. Be ready to exit the vehicle quickly, and stay with me.”
“Why are you worried?”
“I cannot give details. But there have been security breaches against the Church over the last six months.”
The van came to a halt, and she felt the vehicle rock as both Confessors opened doors and stepped out. “Come on. Quickly!” At the words, she stepped out. Ames took her arm and led her at a rapid pace to some stairs. “Up the steps and into the aircraft.”
Ranah balked. “Where are we going?”
“I will carry you, girl. Move. You’ll know your destination soon enough.”
She swallowed, and went. It wasn’t a large plane- maybe a corporate jet or a related craft. Ames guided her to a seat, and a moment later she heard the hatch close and seal. “Here.” She felt hands at her throat, then the hood was pulled off. The cabin was dimly lit, and there were no windows at all in the passenger section.
The plane’s engines started to whir, which soon rose to a pitched whine as the aircraft started to taxi. “I’ve never flown before,” she said.
“Its just another way to travel. Nothing exciting. Buckle your seat belt.” Responded Ames.
She felt her stomach bottom out as the plane left the ground. The entire takeoff had taken less than five minutes. “Is it normal for a plane to take off this quickly?”
“No. We had priority. And it was a private airfield.”
Her ears popped as the plane rose. Minutes later, a little electronic ‘ding’ sounded and a sign lit indicating that belts could be unbuckled. “I’m not going to a Church trial or anything like that, am I.” Her voice shook with the words, but she managed to get them out. Ames didn’t answer immediately, watching her from his own seat. She noticed that he’d not undone his seat belt.
“I’m not supposed to tell you anything, Ms. Nevandilou. Its not my place, nor my orders.”
“Tell me those then.” She felt good being defiant; it was better than being scared.
“We, Confessor Vincenz and myself were directed to proceed to the facility where you were being held. We were to present the custody-transfer papers to the director of the facility, then retrieve you for transport to a Church facility. This was delayed by a full day when you received the overdose of the tranquilizer; a Church Confessor is looking into that matter.”
“You don’t know why they want me?”
“I was not informed.”
“Do you dislike me?”
Ames sighed. “Ms. Nevandilou, I am an agent of the Church. In essence I am very like a member of the American FBI or the international police force called Interpol. I do not know everything, and unless I require the information I am generally not told more than is required. I have no significant opinion one way or another.”
He fell silent, and Ranah did the same. Wishing that she had a window to look out of, or at least a book, she ended up napping in her seat. She woke later, a blanket now tucked about her as her ears popped again. Without a watch and with no clocks in the cabin she had no idea how long she’d slept; and she really didn’t want to ask Confessor Ames.
“Did you sleep well?” Once again his abrupt comment startled her. She composed herself before answering, “I think so. Did you get me the blanket?”
Ames nodded, his expression still extremely neutral.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. We’re on approach now.”
“Approach?”
“We’re descending for a landing.”
“Oh.”
The descent was as quick as the takeoff, and shortly there was a muffled, dull squeal as the tires of the plane contacted the runway. It lost speed rapidly, then taxied for fifteen minutes before finally coming to a halt.
“Please put the hood back on, Ms. Nevandilou.” Ames handed the black cloth over to her. “We part ways here. Your escort to your destination awaits.”
She put the hood on once again, the helplessness of her situation bringing the fear back once again. She heard the hatch unseal, and Ames took her arm and led her to the door. A blast of heat hit her, carrying familiar scents- she knew where she was, or at least she was close! She was near the Great Desert, and home! Taking the chance, she attempted to teleport...
And it felt like her mind exploded. She didn’t even scream- she couldn’t. All she saw was white fire, all she felt was agony like nothing she’d felt before. When it faded, she was even more disoriented as to time than before, and she felt hot pavement beneath her. She tried to move, but even that seemed beyond her.
As if from a great distance she heard voices talking, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. She knew the language, but her shattered mind couldn’t assemble the sounds into meaning. The voices were nearby, she thought. Two of them were familiar, but she couldn’t remember who they were.
Hands took hold of her. She didn’t fight; she couldn’t even move. As if she were a sack of potatoes she was hauled off the ground, and soon was in a much cooler place. a wet cloth was wiped across her forehead, and that felt good. She tried to talk, but she only managed an incoherent rambling mutter.
Eventually, she started to understand the world again, and stirred. “I did warn you about trying to use your Gift,” commented Ames.
“Um... What... Happened?”
“The Church recruits the Gifted to serve in the Confessors, as well as for other positions. Vincenz is a form of telepath.”
“A... What?”
“He can touch someone’s mind and talk to them without speaking, and hear their thoughts. He can also send false signals to a person’s brain. When you tried to teleport, you had a seizure instead.”
Ranah decided to remain where she was, which turned out to be back inside the plane, lying on one of the seats fully reclined. Ames continued talking. “Our orders have changed- the directive came while you were... Out of sorts.”
“Changed?”
“We are to accompany you to the facility, as are Confessors Bierce and Johnson.”
Ranah struggled to get her mind working properly. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I am guessing that you’ll not try to utilize your Gift again?”
“... No. No I won’t.”
“Alright. Are you mobile?”
“If we’ll be in a car, yes. Walking... No.”
“That will be sufficient.” He helped her up, replaced the hood and walked her down the stairs once again. Moments later they were in a van that seemed terribly similar to the last, quietly rolling towards her fate. This time however, the van obviously had more passengers. The silence was oppressive- Ranah expected that four people in a vehicle would have some kind of conversation, even with a prisoner in tow. The van sped on without any sound other than the whir of the motor.
After an hour of this, Ranah spoke up again. “Why don’t you talk? Normal people talk. I don’t mean with me... I mean talk. None of you say anything unless I ask a question!”
She heard someone shift in their seat. “Because it’s unnecessary,” said Ames.
“Its not human. People talk.”
Another voice, muttering, said, “you shouldn’t talk.”
“I heard that. You think I wanted to be like this?”
No answer.
“Mr. Ames, do you share that opinion?”
“Confessor Bierce.” Ames actually had emotion again, this time anger. “You will keep your bigotry to yourself. I recommend you read her file to understand the situation.”
“... Sir.” Despite the agreement, Bierce didn’t sound like he wanted to obey the order.
There was the sound of a briefcase opening and closing, and papers being shuffled. Read it. Now. We have another hour, Confessor.”
Ames sighed. “Ms. Nevandilou. I apologize for my associate. Unlike him, I am aware that Bishop Piper vastly exceed his authority in your Marking. Perhaps being Marked was justified, but certainly not to the extent as happened to you.”
“I just want to go home.”
“Tough.”
“Bierce. One more word and you’ll be having words with Bishop Gerhardt.”
There was the sound of papers being thrown to the floor. “Fine. How about you tell us what her deal is then? If she’s so damned precious, tell me why!”
Ames snorted. “Ms. Nevandilou. May I?”
“Okay. Can you take this hood off too?”
“I believe so.” With that, she felt him unhook the hood and lift it off. The van’s interior was plain black. Three of her four escorts sat in the seats around her- Ames across from her next to an angry looking dark-haired man whom she thought was Bierce, and Confessor VIncenz next to her- he looked a bit peaked. The fourth man occupied the driver’s seat, and seemed to be listening to some kind of earpiece. Bierce looked at her, glared then looked away. If there had been a window he’d have been staring out it.
Ames raised an eyebrow to her, then looked at Bierce. “Pay attention. Ms. Nevan-”
“Ranah.”
“Hm?”
“Call me Ranah. My mother was Ms. Nevandilou.”
“Alright. Ranah grew up in New Canterbury. She became involved in petty theft at an early age, both by her own admission and by witness’ accounts. At thirteen her Gift manifested- she’s a teleport, the first seen since Padre Pio.”
Bierce started to pay attention.
Ames continued, watching Confessor Bierce as he did. “She used this ability for minor mischief including further petty thefts, but never revealed the fact that she possessed this ability. When she was seventeen the tenement building she lived in burned down, killing her parents as well as badly injuring a close friend. She finished her schooling, during which time her thefts stopped for a time, then left New Canterbury for New Jerusalem.”
“Once she was there, she obtained a small, Church charity-supported apartment and returned to theft. Once again, the items taken were minor. Low value cosmetics, clothing and food. However, for the first time she encountered real security measures, the likes of which were far less common in the significantly poorer community of her home town.”
“Is this correct so far Ms... Er, Ranah?”
“Yeah. So far.”
“Her activities were recorded on video surveillance, including the use of her ability. Further, several witnesses reported that the thief they witnessed simply vanished. THis led at first to a low-level police investigation, that was moved up the chain of command due to the report of a Gifted individual possessed of limited precognitive abilities. The Inspector assigned was Inspector Collins of the New Jerusalem Police. He followed the leads, and during his investigation rapidly determined that Ranah was not as much a threat as she was a troubled youth. Using a contact with one of her friends, he made contact with her, arranging for a meeting.”
“Matters had escalated, however. Bishop Piper, an ambitious individual in the Church received the reports of a Gifted thief, as well as reports on her teleportational ability. He interfered in the investigation, going as far as to shadow Inspector Collins to the arranged meeting. There, the Bishop confronted the pair, offering violence unless Ranah surrendered to him. Ranah then used her Gift to remove herself and the Inspector from the scene.
“The Bishop had already filed a falsified Order of Marking against her before this. he was charged with abuse of power, but before he faced Tribunal, the order was executed against Ranah. She received a fifth-degree Mark, out of the six rankings. According to protocol, she at worst should have faced a first-degree Mark.”
“The Church defrocked Bishop Piper over the matter, and he has dropped out of sight. Likewise, until her recent capture Ranah had also vanished. And that brings us to the current time, save for one salient point.”
Confessor Bierce, now more subdued asked, “and that would be?”
“During her capture, standard tranquilizer darts were used. The drug was Tricanel, the most common agent used in apprehensions due to its safety. Ranah was shot once, but received a dosage somewhere between eight and twelve times normal. She lived, which surprised everyone.”
“Eight... And Twelve times the dosage.”
“Correct.”
“And she lived.”
Ames smirked. “Obviously.”
Bierce frowned. “Not to belabor the obvious, but someone tried to kill her.”
“That is the assumption, yes.”
“Why?”
“Unknown. However, as I said, her ability is effectively unique. A great number of people would want control of her... Including the Church.”
Ranah’s eyes widened, looking at Ames. “That’s why I’m here?”
Ames’ expression went neutral. “I can honestly say that I’ve not been informed of that, but its a reasonable assumption.”
“But... I just want to go home!”
Bierce looked at Ranah. “I don’t like the Marked. I’m sorry. But... I can see you didn’t deserve it. You need to consider this though. The evidence is someone is after you. While the Church might not be your first choice of a haven, you WILL be safe with us. You won’t on the street.”
Ranah glared. “I’ve done pretty well so far!”
“Yet here we are.”
She slumped back into her seat. Ames looked at her, then back ot Bierce. “Another matter. Ranah informed Confessor VIncenz and myself that since she was in Constantinople, she has been followed whenever outside of Enclave areas.”
Bierce looked again at Ranah, who frowned. “It wasn’t the person following me that caught me...”
“But someone planted that overloaded dart.”
Ranah didn’t have an answer to that.
Ames spoke again. “Regardless, we have a situation. Ranah, you ARE a fugitive, and both Gifted and Marked. The Church has a legitimate interest in your case, and also in your protection given the evidence that there are hostile elements arrayed against you. I’m going to ask you to please go along with this for now. It’s safer for you. I can at least guarantee the Church won’t harm you.”
She glanced at him, then gazed at her feet, thinking. “I’ll... I’ll go along for now. For now. I haven’t a real choice, do I?”
“Not at the moment.”
Bierce nodded to Ames, then picked up the papers he’d scattered on the floor. Arranging them, he made a point of starting to carefully read them through. The remainder of the trip went by quietly, until Ames looked to Ranah once again. “I need you to put on the hood again. It won’t be for long. I know you’ve not really seen anything, but its policy.”
Ranah nodded, and put it on again. It caught on one of her horns, but Ames straightened it for her. “Where are we?”
“Its called Limbo One. Its a research facility, and that’s all I can tell you.
