Too Late

By the time of midday, both Narheda and Luwan had been heard by the city guards several times. Otorian, son of Gadrian was the one who had been questioning Narheda. He was a muscled gentleman about her own age and he would have been quite on the handsome side, had not a large scar marred his chiseled face. Most of it was hidden by a trim full beard, however there was no denying that it was there, and Narheda was convinced that it was of the kind that still pained now and then, especially in foul weather.

"I think," Otorian finished while capping his shiny gray electronic pen, "that we now have got everything there is to be said from you and your colleague. As well as from the people witnessing the event down by the river. We've now established the brand, model and colour and the direction of both the cars involved in the episode. The Maera with the killer of the driver and the Falcon chasing you down in the river, a depiction of the shooter in the window of the Maera and the suspicion that it has a connection with the by now confirmed arson in the Institution of Biology, Pavilion 64 B, over at the University."
"That's correct," Narheda nodded in agreement.
"Do you care to speculate what might've been behind those two events taking place today?"

"Yes, some research which I and the late Dr. Arlig have been involved in."
"A historian and a biologist together?"
"No, I've been working on a theory based upon some of the findings in our excavation up in Rendell and Dr. Arlig has been doing some parallel research regarding the DNA of some of the humanoid remnants found there."
"You must excuse me," Otorian said and let his dark brown eyes tip down in his CarryInfomate where he had been making notes up until now, "but I don't really know how you scholar people work."

"Very seldom in multi institutional teams," Narheda explained. "Not that it wouldn't benefit us, but there's always this competition going on for funding and for attention between the institutions, and that naturally hinders any lengthier and more fruitful co-work. If such is not ordered from higher places, that is, and then it's seldom productive, because the participants often feel run over."
"I see," the guard nodded his head, however Narheda could feel that he really didn't – plus he didn't particularly care since this was really beside the point of his crime investigation. Now Otorian stood and held out a large, blocky hand.

"Well, I should thank you for your cervices to the city, milady and wish you a good day. There might be a need to make some further enquiries later on, however then I assume it'll be enough to give you a call."
"Yes," she replied in relief as she too rose from her place and took his offered hand. "You're welcome to do so." Then she hesitated briefly. "Would you keep us informed if you should make any progress? Perhaps by catching some of the culprits behind these atrocities?"
"Certainly," officer Otorian confirmed and then they pressed palms before he followed her out.

Luwan was waiting in the portico outside the city guard station, leant against a pillar and with his arms pulled around his slender form as if he was freezing. And perhaps he was. Mentally at least. When he spotted her he smiled meekly.
"Shall we give the bank another try already today?"
"Why wait?" she said. "We have everything to win by keeping up the momentum. Those who want to silence us will not sit put and wait."

"I'd hope you'd say that, let's go."
"No taxi this time," she suggested. "I actually do assume we're safer riding the maglev. Too much people around for them to dare to try anything."
"Like shooting into a crowd." Luwan said. "Hope they're not that scrupulous."
"Most people are not."
"Perhaps not here in Gondor. It would be different where I come from. Some people in Harnendor wouldn't hesitate such madcap schemes to get the one they want to."

There was a dry matter-of-factness to Luwan's tone which made Narheda shiver with discomfort. Almost as if the young man was used to this behaviour, and while he didn't find it acceptable, it was no strange thing to him. Not the way it was to her at least.
"But I guess you're right," Luwan went on after a few seconds of silence. "Let's take the maglev. And let's catch something to eat on the run!"
"Good idea," Narheda agreed, since she realized at that moment that she was starving. It had been a while since she had breakfast but she had been so tense up until now that food had not had the chance to be on her mind. So as they began walking towards the nearest maglev station, they stopped by at a mobikitchen and bought themselves one turkey bread roll each and cider to wash it down with.

*O*O*O*

Half an hour later they were entering the large ziggurat-shaped office of Bank of Anfalas. The vaulted marble hall was airy and slightly chilly, as if the heat of the day never really got the chance to reach through the thick walls of the building. Huge windows were hung with semitransparent cream-white curtains, letting in an ambient, slightly yellow light which painted large, soft rhombs on the floor where people walked to and from, talking mutedly. Brass items were gleaming dimly and the shadows in the corners were almost tangible, as if they had lives on their own.

There was almost something - sacred in places like this, Narheda thought. Yes, sacred was the word, as if the huge halls dedicated to the finances had somehow kept some of the allure which once used to be dedicated to the religions and the gods, before men had grown out of them.

Narheda and Luwan crossed the shiny marble floor and came up to the counter, where a handful of people were waiting prudently in line, and when it became their turn, Narheda presented the key to the young woman behind the counter. Her name tag told them her name was Laldi, daughter of Velda and she was young and slender, with a soft, creamy-skinned and heart-shaped face. Her radiantly ginger hair was twirled in perfect, small, circular curls, winding down over her thin shoulders, and to Narheda she looked way too young to be working in a bank. Or perhaps it was just Narheda who was getting old.

Laldi took the key and held it over a scanner and there was a small beep and a blue light to be seen, indicating the key was legit. Then she lifted her eyes towards Narheda.
"Do you have any ID?" Laldi's voice sounding bright and sweet, reminding of light, melted butter.

As a response, the scholar reached inside of her bag and produced the small plastic square identifying her as Narheda daughter of Nihaya, her profession, address and year of birth and that mug shot she wasn't exactly proud of, since she looked both overweight and tired in it. But there was nothing to do about that? Everyone looked horrible in their ID mug shots, it seemed like some kind of natural law, just like the sun raised in the east and you drove on blue light.

Laldi scrutinized first Narheda's then Luwan's ID, appearing a bit hesitant when reading from the latter, no doubt a bit concerned by his foreign status. But then she nodded her head, indicating it was all right, by presenting them with forms to sign, which she then took care of, counter-signed, stamped and put away in a locker.

"Now come with me," Laldi then said delicately before closing her booth and leaning over and talking to the dark-skinned likewise young man sitting in the booth next to hear. Following that she stood and walked over to a small brass gate, indicating for Narheda and Luwan to come and do the same. She opened up the gate using a keycard she carried around her neck and admitted the duo inside.

"This safe is to be found down in the basement," she explained to them. "I will walk with you down there and let you inside a locked room where you can spend half an hour as default. Then I'll come down and fetch you. Should you feel you need more time, you can be allotted another half an hour maximum. Longer than that and you'll have to come back later. If you on the other hand should feel that you're done already earlier than that, or if there's anything unclear, there's a little buzzer attached to the wall, which you can press and you'll receive aid, either by me or by one of my colleagues."

With that Laldi had escorted them down a flight of broad and turning sand-coloured marble stairs and into a vault room which she had opened up using the same keycard as she had used for the brass door earlier. This heavy iron door fanned open, presenting a hallway where the lights flickered on automatically and Narheda and Luwan tailed Laldi down to the second farthest off room. Sturdy iron grid doors closed off those rooms from the hallway and Laldi was once again deploying her keycard to let them in. Down here it was dank and quite cold and Narheda rubbed her bare arms against the discomfort.

"Number 1687 is your safe as you might know," Laldi said and then she indicated a red button attached to the wall. "Remember what I said about the buzzer! Now I'll leave you to your business, I hope it's fruitful." With those words the banker had bowed gently and backed out through the grid door and closed it behind her, locking them inside the room with the safety boxes.

To the resounding clang of the door shutting followed by the clicking sound of the lock, Narheda and Luwan had faced each other. They were both thinking the same thing. If anyone of their invisible foes were coming to get them, here would be the perfect place for doing so. They were trapped like rats by now; there was nowhere to hide from say a torrent of bullets from a machine gun. The little wooden table in the middle of the room was way too flimsy to take cover behind.

Therefore Narheda regretted not taking some kind of precautions with her. Like a weapon. On the other hand, even if Narheda would have known how to handle a gun, she would never have been able to enter through the security control of the bank carrying it. She shrugged it off.

"Number 1687," she echoed Laldi's words from earlier and then she and Luwan walked across the room, and soon enough they found their box somewhere in the middle of the room.

Narheda pushed the key into the lock and opened the shiny brushed steel box with a muted click. The small but thick door swung open – and they found themselves staring at an empty compartment. Now what?
"But it should be there?" Luwan was pulling his brows together in consternation. "Doc Arlig was very clear with that. Here should be copies of all the research results he had received from Professor Iusa Vinidad of Cardolan."
"Perhaps he decided to move it before the arson, and never got the chance to tell you so," Narheda speculated, before her eyes caught sight of something small lying halfway in there. A folded together sheet of paper.

Narheda reached inside and plucked out the sheet, folding it up and finding herself staring at one single sentence printed in block letters in the middle of the sheet.

Don't stick your nose where it shouldn't be, or you'll burn it!

"Damnations!" Narheda cursed as she showed the sheet to Luwan. He took it and read it before making a face and saying the obvious:
"They beat us to it. The bastards!"

Then they were staring at each other, both of them thinking the same worried thought. Now, they were not the only ones who were in danger. Someone else could very possible also become the victim of their skulking enemies. Iusa Vinidad! The Cardolanian professor.