TALES FROM BEYOND THE FRINGE:
Victor Lazarin Stands Again
By Black Waltz 0
In about forty five minutes he was going to die.
A small collective of alchemists and subordinates clustered around the back chamber in the Aurelian exo-lab the good doctor had made into his private quarters, after the webbing and infestation of giant man-eating spiders had been burned out first. Mordesh scientists of varying colours, tones and body modifications looked upon one another and the closed doors in dismay. "What will we do?" One asked in a deep, metallic-tinged voice, turning to the others for advice.
Another hid their concern behind artificial blank-lensed eyes incapable of expression. "We cannot lose his expertise and guidance as close as we are to the solution." He reminded his colleagues, but like the rest of them he could think of no remedies to their problem.
"I am sure we all experience his grief over the loss of such a promising protégé," their head analyst spoke up, her words both soft and sultry, "his child, no less. Our sympathy runs deep, but this is ridiculous. We must extract him from the premises, and soon."
"Didn't he pop someone one when we sent in a medic to check on him?" An aurin clad in his scientist uniform proclaimed from the crowd; a half-pint biochemist in a field of giants.
"Yes. Dmitriev, right?" One of them pondered and they looked about amidst themselves.
He was the large, broad mordesh at the back of the group, nursing what was obviously a very bad black eye. He smiled at the sudden attention, his prosthetic metal jaw clicking the grin into place as he shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "The fault is mine. The grieving, they can be unpredictable. I should have remembered this."
"But we must do something!" The first mordesh who had spoken responded with urgency, clenching his fists. "If Dr. Lazarin lapses, we are lost. What hope would we have left?"
"What time remains?" The head analyst asked the others calmly, but her voice was edged with steel.
Dmitriev checked his datachron. All mordesh members of the blighthaven expedition were required to log their infusion times into the database, mostly to keep an eye on everyone remotely and to warn the team of an impending episode if one of their men or women turned forgetful or went missing. None of them were exempt from this little instance of paperwork, not even Lazarin, and his name and last log date were already lit up with an alarming red light. The mordesh sighed. "Not a whole lot, Ekaterine. He has until the hour." He explained.
Ekaterine nodded as she accepted this information. "Then we must move swiftly. You there!" She announced, indicating the worried-looking aurin standing waist-height with them. "There was a person here previously, the newly needed alchemical assistant Lazarin required recently for his lab work. I recall you two chatting before the… incident. Where are they now?"
The aurin's ears perked up and he wrinkled his nose a little. "You mean the one the doctor hired? They smelt kinda funny, like blood and burnt hair? What do you need them for?"
"Ah!" One of the mordesh scientists exclaimed, brightening by the woman's side. "They did seem to be a close friend of the doctor and they were present during the strain ambush. Perhaps they could persuade him out of this foolishness?"
"They also disassembled his daughter, or so I hear." Another said.
The group hesitated for a moment. Ekaterine shook them out of it. "It's still worth a try. Aurin, you are fast on your feet. Can you find them?"
The hairs on the back of his neck and his tail prickled. He half-twisted, coiling the slender yet powerful muscles in his legs. Egghead scientist he might have been, for his species, but the primal pattern inside of him still knew that he could run like lightning. "I think I saw them mangling wildlife outside of the exo-lab!" He announced, darting away. "I'll be back as soon as I can!"
When the fluff-eared biochemist was merely the echo of rapid footfalls down the metal corridor Ekaterine turned back to the others and indicated the two largest of her kind there; the bruised and sore Dmitriev along with a quiet biologist with most of his mouth rotted away. The skeletal teeth and bones were visible through a translucent orange vitalus tank bolted to his face. "You two will stand watch over this door. Nobody may go in or out until we return with weapons. The rest of you, and myself included, we must bear the shame and sift sadly through the corpses of the recent dead. We require artillery, and an abundance of it."
Many of those that had died in the assault had been armed soldiers; guards deployed to watch over their expedition. The rest had been their colleagues and peers in the field, but there was no time to mourn them as of yet. Dmitriev folded his arms, looking up at Ekaterine solemnly. "I'm afraid I can see where you plan to take this, Eka."
"Yes. It must be done for the sake of all." She touched the mordesh with the metal-tinged voice lightly on the arm, on the part that still had flesh and sensation left. "Prepare an infusion right away. We will find the doctor ravenous and regretfully reap him, or we will bar the exits and infuse him by force."
At least, for all of them, one thing was clear.
The man in the other room was not allowed to die.