"The key is to realize the future isn't an enemy to be fought. It's a friend to embrace. A closing of the circle. At last—the right to be last." - Emperor Calus
Variks didn't so much as bother to look up from his work when Meren entered the main control room. Consumed by whatever was on the displays before him, he tapped away at the console seemingly oblivious to her presence. Meren stared at his back, watching him work for a few moments in silence. He knew she was there; he had to. There was no way she had managed to sneak up on him, not with his keen Eliksni sense of hearing.
Meren stood patiently in the doorway for another second, waiting for him to look at her - to offer one of his usual pithy greetings. But when Variks continued to make no acknowledgement of her existence, Meren rested a hand on her hip. It wasn't like him to ignore her like this.
"No 'good morning, Meren'? Or..." she lowered her voice an octave and grated out, "...'why are you not still asleep, yesss'?"
Variks shot a humorless look over his shoulder. "No time for pleasantry. Much to be done."
Meren offered him a wry smile in return. "Did your work finally catch up with you?"
"Your fault," he grumbled as he rose from his chair. With one last tap to the console, Variks put the array of monitors in standby and went to retrieve his staff from where it leaned against the wall.
"Oh, don't blame me," she chided playfully, "I've offered to help you every day I've been here, and every time you've refused…"
Seemingly oblivious to Meren's tirade, Variks grabbed a datapad from where it lay on the console and quickly crossed the room. Stopping to lean on his staff before her, he held his tongue and listened in amusement as she carried on about how horribly irresponsible he had been.
"...It's your own fault you've gotten so far behind that you can't even bid me a-"
Variks leaned in mid-sentence to nuzzle his face against the side of hers and purred as pleasantly as he could, "Good morning, Meren."
Her mouth snapped instantly shut. If Variks' intent had been to get her to stop talking, he succeeded magnificently. Unable to form words, Meren just stared at him, trying desperately to ignore the sudden flutter in her stomach.
"Better?"
"Yes," she managed to squeak out. But it wasn't better - it was worse. So much worse.
She had been back to see him several times since he had so politely offered to let her stay with him. He had made no further mention of it, and she had very nearly put her absurd suspicions to rest. Until now. In an instant all the doubts about the innocence of his intentions came flooding back.
Meren tried to shake it off - tell herself he was teasing her. What else could it be? She looked to Variks for reassurance and found him gazing down on her bewilderment, outer eyes narrowed in amusement. He certainly seemed to think it was funny.
The look on his face put her mind at ease and she quickly buried her doubts, returning his mirth with a smile of her own.
Variks straightened up. "If you are finished berating me, I have a task for you."
"Oh, so now you're going to put me to work," she grumbled in mock irritation.
"It is only fair." He paused before adding, "Seeing as it is your fault I have fallen behind."
Meren held his gaze with a smirk. He really was insufferable sometimes.
Variks tilted his head when she remained silent. "You will help me today, yess?"
She could hardly refuse such a polite request. "Of course. What do you need me to do? If the Servitor needs to be updated, I think I can manage that on my own-"
"No," he said abruptly. "Perhaps tomorrow. For now, I need you to be my scribe."
She narrowed her eyes, uncomprehending. "What...does that even mean?"
"Is your own tongue so confusing for you?" he teased. "Need I give you an English lesson?"
"No. It's just that-"
Variks waved a hand. "Not a Judgement scribe, Meren - a literal scribe. I need you to take notes."
"On what?"
"Whatever I tell you," he said dismissively.
Meren thought she deserved better than his non-answer. "Stop being so cryptic, Variks. What are we doing?"
Variks pointed a claw at her and opened his mouth to admonish her, probably for asking too many questions. But he seemed to think better of it and curled his claw back as he purred, "Your favorite thing."
Meren narrowed her eyes, trying to recall what she had told him about her 'favorite things'. At one point they had had a brief conversation about each other's interests. Variks' first answer had been 'Judgement' and that had spawned an entire argument (Meren's fault) over how it was better classified as a vocation rather than a hobby. Variks won that one, but a whole new argument had ensued when 'Eliksni' topped the list of Meren's own interests, with Variks pointing out how horribly inappropriate it was to consider an entire species a hobby. In the end, they had discovered that they both enjoyed reading, among other things, and their earlier quarrels had been quickly forgotten. That was how she remembered it, at least.
'Reading' hardly seemed to be the answer Variks was looking for here. 'Writing' didn't make sense either. And she couldn't think of anything else in the spur of the moment so she tried, "Teaching?"
"No," Variks shook his head and let out a sigh. "Research."
Meren's eyebrows lifted. Apparently he remembered the conversation better than she had.
Variks saw the quizzical expression on her face and drew all his arms in, looking suddenly sheepish. "Thought you said it was your favorite. But...perhaps I have misremembered."
"No, you're right. It is my favorite," she conceded. "You know me too well."
Variks hummed, his eyes glittering. "Would not say that...not yet."
"Give it time. If you keep hanging around me, you're going to find out all my secrets ," she said mysteriously, trying to make herself sound more interesting than she actually was.
"I look forward to it," he purred. "But your secrets must wait until later. There is work to be done." He dropped the datapad into her hands.
Meren turned it on expecting some sort of insight into what Variks had planned for the day. But when she looked at the screen, the main interface showed only Prison rosters, security systems, and arena schedules. None of it told her anything.
"What kind of research are we doing?" she asked as she poked at the inmate roster access point on the datapad.
Variks put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face the door. "One more question from you, and I will have you speaking Eliksni the rest of the day."
"You're being difficult," she chided as he pushed her out into the corridor.
He leaned in to growl in her ear, "And you, impatient."
Meren grumbled in mock irritation, but finally yielded and continued down the hall under her own power. She hadn't a clue what they were off to do. But how bad could research be?
A blast of warm, humid air hit Meren in the face as the doors to Block C creaked open. Just inside the inky darkness stretched out before them for a long moment. Variks squinted slightly as the harsh overhead lighting finally flickered on, one filament at a time, casting in sharp relief the chamber before them.
Like every other cellblock they had visited before there was a central catwalk flanked by individual pods, with additional cells recessed into the walls around the perimeter of the circular chamber. The one difference was how massive the containment pods were. Bigger than any Meren had yet seen.
That could mean anything, she thought. Eliksni could get big. And Vex. And Hive. Truth be told, practically every creature in the system managed to have the ability to grow to monstrous proportions. Except humans. But Meren didn't have long to wonder. As the last of the lights came up, the huffing and grunting that ensued told Meren all she needed to know.
Block C held Cabal.
Meren groaned internally and wrinkled her nose. Why did it have to be Cabal?
Variks tilted his head, looking positively pleased with himself. "Not what you expected?"
"No." Meren shot him a less-than-amused look.
Variks chuckled and set off down the central catwalk. Meren let out a sigh before following. It could be worse, she told herself, it could have been Hive.
The scribe waited for her to catch up, as always, and fell in step beside her. "What do you know of Cabal?"
"Not much," she admitted. "I don't exactly have time to study anything other than Eliksni."
Variks spread his lower hands. "Would be happy to enlighten you. If you have any interest."
Meren suspected that whether she wanted it or not, she was in for one of Variks' expositions and acquiesced, "Go ahead...I'm listening."
"Much to be said of Cabal," Variks began dramatically. "Conquerors. Warmongers. Hoarders. All not-so-flattering. But all true. Arrived at Sol not long after Eliksni, with intent to see the system burn…"
She meandered down the catwalk alongside her Eliksni companion as he recounted the Cabal's more recent conquests within the Solar system: the sacking of Phobos, the invasion of Mars. Variks wasn't exactly telling her anything she didn't know already, but she humored him and listened all the same. Who else did he have to talk to?
The lecture became more interesting as Variks moved on to Cabal social structure and biology. Both things she knew so little about. While they were said to be a resilient species, they only thrived under strict atmospheric conditions. That was why it was so humid in Block C - why they had to wear climate-controlled biosuits on Mars.
Meren's mind began to wander from Variks' lecture as she peered curiously into each pod they passed. Through every porthole beady eyes glared back at her, cleft lips curled in contempt. Had Cayde called them "space rhinos" once during a briefing? Or had that been someone else? Whoever it had been, it was a fitting description. They were hulking, wrinkly creatures. Ugly by almost every standard.
Beside her, Variks was still going on, saying something about tusks and teeth. Regaining her focus, Meren tried so hard to listen, nodding occasionally, but Cabal were just so boring. Why couldn't they be talking about Eliksni?
She let him continue for a minute longer before the conversation started to go south. Literally.
Meren held up a finger, stopping Variks just short of explaining the finer points of Cabal reproduction. "Let's let the Cabal keep some of their secrets."
"You are not curious?"
"Not about that," she said dryly.
"Were I to explain Eliksni-"
Meren could see where this was going and cut him off before they got off on a wildly different - and inappropriate - tangent. "I thought we had work to do."
Variks inclined his head begrudgingly, her point taken.
Meren looked down at the datapad. "I don't know why we're bothering to do research on the Cabal, if you know so much already."
"Not Cabal."
"Then why are we down here?" She gestured back to the rows of pods.
Variks pointed a single claw ahead to the shielded cells along the room's perimeter. Meren's eyes followed to where lithe, humanoid figures stood motionless, staring back at them through each cell's impenetrable energy barrier.
"Psions," Meren said unenthusiastically.
"Yess," Variks purred. "Many secrets to unravel."
Meren didn't doubt that. For as little as she knew about Cabal, she knew even less of Psions. Literature on the species was scarce, and no one at the Academy seemed to have any intention of changing that. Whether it was because Psions were too dangerous or too reclusive, the jury was still out.
Variks put a hand against Meren's back, guiding her forward to the first Psion's cell. Compared to almost every other creature that had come to inhabit the Sol system, the Psion before them seemed positively benign. The little alien was no bigger than she was and infinitely more fragile. No pointed teeth, no sharpened claws. No mask, no armor. It hardly looked dangerous.
Variks seemed to think otherwise. "Verry dangerous and very clever, Psions. Said by some to be omniscient…"
He had barely gotten the words out when the creature lunged for them, flinging itself toward the energy barrier. Its body collided against the impenetrable field with a sickening sizzle before being violently repulsed back across the cell to land in a motionless heap on the floor.
"...or perhaps not." Variks deadpanned.
Meren's heart filled with pity for the little creature as it lay there twitching helplessly on the ground. Variks didn't seem to care and she only had a moment to stare before he pawed at her shoulder, urging her away from the cell.
The next Psion was marginally bigger than the last, and apparently smarter. It made no move to lunge at them, standing painfully still, its single eye on Meren as Variks' brought the two of them to a halt.
"Psion Flayer," Variks offered, "deadly assassin in service of the Cabal."
Meren interrupted before he could start off on another dramatic aside. "Does it have a name?"
"Kotoc."
"Kotoc," she echoed, gazing at the Flayer.
"Do not look for too long or it will invade your mind," Variks advised.
After the last Psion's display of "omniscience" Meren was skeptical. "You're not serious."
Variks eyed her gravely. "Flayers are telepathic. Of this I am certain. I do not know if it affects humans, but you are welcome to continue staring. If you wish to find out."
Meren averted her gaze and took three steps back from Kotoc's cell. "That's...quite alright."
"A wise choice."
"So, you're saying that Flayers are telepathic. Do you know this from personal experience, or…"
"No. I put a Dreg in there with it," he said as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. "Did not end well for the Dreg."
"Why would you do that?" she blurted.
Variks shrugged. "Judgement."
Of course. Meren rubbed a hand over her face. She was certain the answer was going to be unpleasant, but she had to know, "What happened to the Dreg?"
"Kotoc took his mind. And he died a most painful death."
"Variks!"
He spread his hands defensively. "It is the truth."
"That's awful."
"Judgement is not always pleasant, Meren."
"So I've seen…" It sounded a lot less like Judgement and more like blatant experimentation to her, but who was she to argue with the last living scribe.
"We have digressed. No more of Dregs or Judgement. Kotoc is the reason we are here. The subject of our research." Variks tapped on the datapad in Meren's hands.
Orderly nonsense populated across the display in tables and charts. Columns labeled α-waves, β-waves, ε-waves. Rows marked amplitude and frequency and wavelength. Strange numerical readings in hertz, and seconds, and meters.
Meren stared at the screen, mystified. In all her years of study, she had never heard of any of the things she was reading. Granted she was no physicist and this was a little out of her element, but she truly had no clue what she was looking at. "What is all this?"
"Quantitative readings of telepathic wavelengths from the Psion. This is how they communicate mind-to-mind."
Meren shot Variks a dubious look. It sounded like absolute nonsense - magic, even. But when she looked back at the datapad's screen, at Variks' meticulous charts, it suddenly didn't seem like magic at all. Whatever was going on with the Psion was measurable. Quantifiable. There were no paracausal forces at work here. What Variks was telling her was scientific - it was real.
As she forced aside her disbelief, all she wanted to know was, "How does it work?"
"That is what I- we are trying to figure out."
Why? Meren eyed him for a moment. "Did the Queen put you up to this?"
"No," he replied. "This is a... personal project."
He elaborated no further as he took a step forward and tapped a panel on the wall next to Kotoc's cell. It lit up beneath his claws as he entered an access code. The screen flashed once, promoting biometric access. Variks laid a hand in the panel and more wavelength readings from the past sixty hours appeared on the datapad in Meren's hands.
"Tell me what you see," he instructed.
Still having no earthly idea what the numbers meant, Meren studied the new data nonetheless. As she perused the previous week's wavelength readings, it suddenly made even less sense. The orderly, rational sequences became chaotic as the numbers fluctuated wildly from day to day. There were far too many outliers for the data to be accurate.
She looked up from the datapad to Variks. "Are you sure this is right?"
His inner eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Meren pointed down to the screen. "Look. A week ago there was a spike in alpha and beta waves - whatever those are - for three days. And there's more." She touched the screen to pull up the data from two weeks earlier. "These outliers don't make sense. Is it possible the numbers are wrong?"
"They are not wrong," Variks growled.
"You're trying to tell me that a dataset like this is normal? Not likely," she scoffed.
Variks screwed up his eyes for a moment but said nothing.
"Maybe your instrumentation is off-"
"No."
"What about background interference. Did you account for that?"
"Yess," he hissed. "Do you think me brainless?"
"Sometimes," she muttered, eyes fixed on the datapad. "Maybe there's something down here that's interfering with your readings…"
"Merenn…"
She was spitballing at this point, but she couldn't help it. Every suggestion was making Variks all the more amusingly flustered. "...what about solar flares? The Traveler's mysterious Light?"
"You know that makes no sense," he retorted.
"Maybe. Maybe not," she said. "But if you don't even know how Psion wavelengths work, how are you going to prove me wrong?"
Variks huffed before closing his outer eyes. "May I see?"
When he didn't try to snatch the datapad out of her hands, Meren looked at him for a moment, considering. Despite her ribbing, Variks stood there politely with his hand extended, waiting for her to hand it over.
"Good luck." She grinned as she offered him the device.
He took it with a soft exhale and narrowed his eyes at the screen.
As Variks stood there pawing through the data, intent on proving himself right, Meren's gaze wandered back to the Psion before them. Behind the flickering barrier Kotoc stood stock still, its single eye staring back at her. Remembering what Variks had said, Meren tried to look away. She didn't exactly want her mind invaded, whatever that meant. But no matter how hard she tried, she found that she couldn't tear her eyes away from the Psions' eerie Y-shaped pupil.
Locked in that unbreakable gaze, a dull thrum began to reverberate through Meren's head. Her mind buzzed almost pleasantly as her own thoughts faded away and alien sensations began to wash over her in wave after calming wave. Meren's eyelids drooped. She could hear the Psions' voices, soft as whispers. She could hear their songs, ethereal and beautiful. But the moment of bliss didn't last.
The soothing chorus dissipated in an instant only to be replaced with a terror unlike any she had ever known. Sheer dread of the Prison - of Variks - consumed her. The iron grip of irrational fear clenched tighter and Meren reeled, desperately flailing for something to hold on to. Anything.
Before her, Kotoc narrowed its eye. The cellblock fell away. Everything went white. And, for a moment, there was nothing at all.
Reality came rushing back in a terrifying surge. The warmth, the humidity, the glaring lights. Kotoc standing before her, eye narrowed. Three of Variks' arms wrapped tightly around her, claws digging into her sides.
As Meren trembled in his arms, powerless to stand, the scribe let out a snarl of rage. Pulling her closer, he bellowed something in the gravelly tongue of the Cabal that sent the Psion skittering back to the furthest corner of its cell. Kotoc drew its knees up against its chest. But even then Variks' wasn't satisfied. Rumbling like some feral thing, her protector stared the Flayer down until it averted its eye and dared not move again.
No sooner was the Psion subdued, than Variks whirled Meren around to face him, his mechanical claws clenched onto her shoulders. Grabbing her chin and forcing her head back to look up at him, Variks stared down at her with panic-stricken eyes, desperately searching for any hint of recognition.
"Meren?" he rasped.
Through the vertigo she looked wordlessly up at the eight-eyed Eliksni.
"Speak." It was a command.
Meren did her best to obey. "So it does affect humans…" she said weakly, sounding as stupid as she felt.
Variks immediately dropped her chin with a huff and released her shoulders from his mechanical grip.
It was too soon. Still dizzy, Meren felt her footing beginning to give way and she reflexively grabbed for him. Her fingers found the robes at Variks' chest and she clutched desperately at the fabric there. Before she could slump to the ground, Variks' lower arms encircled her waist, catching her. He steadied her for a moment, then something went clattering to the floor, and a second pair of arms joined the embrace.
Meren's breath caught in her throat as he drew her up against his unyielding chest. But she didn't try to resist him. Her fingers buried themselves willingly in his robes and Meren let her head fall forward into the ruff of fur at his neck. In return, Variks rested his chin gently atop her head and she reflexively pressed herself closer.
In his arms, her pounding heart slowed and the dizziness eased. All the fear and confusion that had so consumed her began to melt away. And as he held her a little tighter, Meren knew she was safe. She never wanted to let go.
They stayed like that for a heartbeat or a hundred, neither one willing to be the first to pull away from the comforting embrace. The middle of the Cabal cellblock was hardly the place for such a thing, but in that moment nothing else mattered. Nothing but them.
After what might have been an eternity, Variks nudged at the top of her head. "Are you hurt?"
At his words the reverie shattered and Meren's eyes snapped open. What was she doing?
"Yes or no?" he purred too gently when she didn't answer.
"No," she whispered, waiting for him to let go. When he didn't seem intent on releasing her, she pushed back gently against his chest. "You're crushing me."
Variks disentangled himself from her, one arm at a time, until he was satisfied that she could stand on her own. Letting out a soft chirr, he cocked his head and looked down on her with concern.
Meren quickly looked away and took a step back, doing her best to hide how flustered she felt.
As she straightened her tunic, trying to pull herself together, Meren caught sight of what had gone clattering to the ground. "The gods gave you four arms, and you couldn't even manage to hold onto the datapad."
"I could have let you fall…"
"Two arms would have done the trick," Meren said, hoping to sound aloof.
Variks rumbled softly, his eyes glittering. "Did not hear you complaining at the time...Perhaps you enjoyed it."
"Perhaps I did," she offered in an attempt to wipe the self-satisfied look off his face.
Variks straightened up, managing only to look all the more smug. That wasn't what Meren had intended. Not giving him a chance to comment further, she stooped to retrieve the datapad from where it lay on the ground. She turned it over and brushed it off. The datapad was undamaged. If nothing else, at least Eliksni tech was sturdy.
Nearby, Variks' staff lay on the floor not far from where the datapad had fallen. Apparently he had been so invested in their foolish embrace that he hadn't been able to hang on to it either. Meren looked from the staff to the scribe, disapproving, but withheld any further comment.
Variks offered her a shrug before scooping it up. As he straightened back up, he caught sight of Kotoc and stared at the Psion for a long moment, twisting his staff in his hands. When he spoke again, all the good humor had left his voice. "What did it say to you?"
"Nothing," Meren said, their embrace suddenly forgotten. "Not with words, at least."
Variks turned to study her, waiting for her to explain.
"It was just feelings. Fear. Terror." For a second she could so vividly remember the Psions' fright. "It's...so afraid of this place. Of you ."
Variks snorted. "As it should be."
The tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, told her everything. He was going to punish Kotoc for what it had done; he was going to do something terrible.
"Don't hurt Kotoc," she pleaded. "It didn't harm me…"
Variks' mechanical claws clenched tightly around his staff and he narrowed all four of his eyes.
Sympathy was getting her nowhere, so she tried using reason. "... and it would be a shame to lose the subject of your research."
Variks huffed, still unmoved.
Meren reached out and laid her hand on his lower arm. Gently running her palm down toward his hand, she met his eyes. "Variks, please…"
He closed his eyes and let out a long, hissing sigh. His claws twitched for a second before he opened his eyes again, the hardness there replaced by a peculiar softness he seemed to reserve only for her. "I do not share your sympathy. But if this is what you wish, no harm will come to Kotoc. You have my word."
Meren gave him a small smile of thanks and let her hand linger on his arm a moment longer. Though the scribe seemed placated, she wanted to get him as far away from Kotoc as possible before he had a chance to change his mind. Finally pulling her hand away, Meren turned on her heel back toward the central catwalk hoping he would follow.
Variks didn't budge. "Where are you going? We are not finished."
What now? Meren stopped in her tracks and glanced back at him.
"There is more data to collect." Variks pointed at the next cell over before drawing his finger in a wide circle.
Did he seriously intend for her to go to every last cell and transfer the data manually? To say she was unenthusiastic about the prospect was putting it mildly. She had had quite enough of Psions for one day, and wasn't eager to spend any more time down in Block C. But she had agreed to help Variks, and if this is what her duty as a scribe entailed, then so be it.
Datapad in hand, Meren dutifully began to make her way around the perimeter of the chamber. She stopped at the first cell, careful to keep her eyes from the Psion's gaze, and entered the access code. The sync initiated and the data was immediately transferred to the device in her hands. Meren gave the numbers a cursory glance and moved onto the next cell.
Access. Sync. Transfer. Access. Sync. Transfer.
Stopping at each cell, Meren repeated the same process. Over and over and over. All with Variks trailing languidly after, his unflinching gaze sending every Psion they passed scampering back to the corner of their cell.
Forty-two uneventful data transfers later, they had managed to circumnavigate the entire block and end up back at Kotoc's cell. Confident that they were finished, Meren went to power down the datapad. But Variks seemed to have other ideas.
"Now. Look again." He tapped a claw against the device in Meren's hands. "And you will understand why the numbers are not wrong "
He's so hell-bent on being right, she thought. But Meren humored him and looked over the new data from the other Psions just the same. While she expected to see the same outliers, the same fluctuations, what she saw instead was order. All the Psions' wavelength readings remained relatively constant over the weeks and months, with Kotoc being the only exception. Meren raised her eyebrows. Suddenly it all made sense. Kotoc's numbers weren't wrong. What she had misinterpreted as erroneous data was the hallmark of meticulous experimental design. How had she not realized it before?
"Kotoc is your test subject. Your variable," she said, pausing to scoff at her own stupidity. "And all the other Psions are your control group."
Variks nodded slowly.
She very nearly asked what he was doing to Kotoc to make its wavelength readings fluctuate so wildly, but after feeling its fear she wasn't sure she wanted to know. At least not yet.
Despite her uncertainty surrounding his methods, Meren offered him a grudging look of respect. "A cleverly-designed little experiment. You've put some thought into this."
"A great deal."
"Well, I'm impressed," she said, crossing her arms. "You're smart, Variks - too smart. I'm sure you'll have no trouble in figuring out how Psion wavelengths work."
"We," he corrected. "You agreed to help me, yess?"
"As much as I would like to...I don't think I can."
Variks folded his hands. "You underestimate yourself, Meren. Even if you do not yet fully understand, you know enough to question the data, the methods."
"And I ended up being wrong."
"It does not matter. We learn from failure. Not success," he said gently. "How many times did you fail before you understood Eliksni? Did you give up then?"
She shot him a begrudging look. He was right. Painfully right.
Variks spread his hands. "Need to be more optimistic, yes?"
"Don't you use my own words against me," she grumbled.
Variks chuckled in return. "You are not giving up. We will unravel this mystery, you and I. Together. As a team."
Meren sighed. "You really want my help, don't you?"
"I do," he purred. "I would not ask this of you if I did not see you as a capable partner."
She finally gave him a faint smile. "You're very persistent."
"One of my better qualities." His eyes smiled right back. "... and yours."
"Fine, you win," she said, splaying her hands in mock exasperation. "We'll figure it out as a team . But…" She held up a finger.
Variks blinked his inner eyes, waiting.
"...you're going to have to teach me. I don't know anything about Psions or wavelengths or...any of this."
"Of course," he replied. "I will share with you everything I know."
"That includes whatever it is you're doing to Kotoc to get your data," she added.
Variks hesitated, claws tightening around his staff.
His reluctance all but confirmed her suspicions about his experiment, but she needed to know. "I can't offer much help if I don't even understand your experimental methods."
Variks inclined his head in agreement.
"Good." She clasped her hands together. "Now, where do we start?"
Variks chuckled at her sudden eagerness. "We will talk of Psions later . Elsewhere. After the rest of our chores are done."
Meren gave him a good-natured glare. It seemed as though her duties as a scribe were far from over. Variks returned her gaze, eyes brimming with mirth, as he extended his hand toward the cellblock's central catwalk.
At his unspoken command, Meren fell in beside him and they retraced their steps back to the chamber's exit. As they walked together in silence, she gazed down at the numbers on the datapad, mulling over Variks' experiment - their experiment. There were a hundred questions teeming through her head, but she couldn't possibly ask them all. So she settled on just one.
Though she wasn't sure he would answer, she asked, "So once we've figured out how Psion wavelengths work, what are you going to do with that information, exactly?"
Variks glanced over at her for a long moment. "What do you think?"
Only one thing came to mind. "Write a book...and bask in the joy that...comes from contributing to scientific advancement?"
Variks gave her a blank stare. "No."
"What then?"
"I keep it secret. Between us. For now."
She nearly laughed. "What sense does that make?"
"Secrets make one... indispensable," he offered cryptically.
Meren studied him for a moment, pondering his words. Secrets surely ensured his utility to the Queen. And Mara Sov was currently the only thing standing between Variks and dying a traitor's death at the hands of his own people.
"In that case, we best succeed," she said. As much as his people hated him, they needed him. He was the last scribe left, after all.
"We will." He laid a knowing hand on her shoulder and leaned his head over. "Then perhaps you will help me with my next project, yess?"
Meren let out a huff of laughter. He really was getting ahead of himself. But they both knew that she would help him with whatever he asked..."Just so long as it doesn't involve Hive."
They made the rest of Variks' rounds in record time. Stopping first in the max sec wing, they tested the security systems - twice - before moving on to an armory of sorts where Variks had Meren take inventory of a colorful array of alien weaponry. He offered little explanation of what everything was, and even though Meren didn't know the half of what she was looking at, she documented everything on the datapad all the same. Like a good scribe. They rounded out the day's chores down on the Prison's loading docks, preparing a pair of pods for whatever monstrosity the Awoken saw fit to deliver into Variks' care next.
When they finally returned to the control room, Variks disappeared for a few minutes before returning to Meren with tea. As was quickly becoming custom, he politely offered her the etheric drink before finding his seat across from her at the room's little table. In return, Meren thanked him, equally polite. Variks allowed her a moment to indulge before he began speaking and, as promised, told her everything about his experiment.
All things considered, it wasn't nearly as terrible as she had expected. Kotoc had spent its fair share of time in the arena facing other Psions. Cabal. Eliksni. Anything and everything Variks saw fit to throw at the Flayer in the name of science. Kotoc had emerged from each skirmish victorious, and Variks in turn had come away with more data.
Meren interrupted his explanation only once to ask why he hadn't thought to turn some Guardians loose in the arena with Kotoc, but Variks was quick to explain. The Lightbearers were formidable opponents, in his words, and in all likelihood it wouldn't have ended well for the Psion - or his experiment. Point taken, Meren crossed her arms and leaned back, holding her tongue for the rest of his explanation.
Once he had summed everything up, Meren sat and considered all he had told her. Despite his unorthodox methods, she found that she couldn't be mad. Sometimes knowledge required sacrifice, after all. And if this was what Variks needed to keep House Judgement safe, she wasn't about to argue. But that being said, she did have questions. So many questions.
Meren was just about to open her mouth again when Variks came around the table and dropped the datapad before her. He was apparently far from finished. Leaning in over her shoulder, he turned it on and pulled up a myriad of tables and charts before starting in on an entirely different lecture.
Their conversation turned to telepathy then, the correlation between wavelengths, and all the other tenets of knowledge upon which Variks' experiment was built. Meren had a better time of it than she had expected due, in part, to Variks. All things considered, he was a surprisingly good teacher and Meren didn't mind listening to him drawl on - even about the theoretical physics of telepathy - in the slightest.
After an hour, Meren seemed to grasp the fundamentals and Variks, leaning over her all the while, had her plot the newest data points on some two-dimensional chart. It was meant as an exercise of competency, and predictably no great solution came out of Meren's efforts. But at least the graph looked nice - to her. Variks didn't exactly share in her enthusiasm, but afforded her a "pass" nonetheless.
With that Variks seemed to sense that Meren was losing focus, he finally relented. "That is enough for one day."
As he scooped up the datapad and retreated to his own seat, Meren groaned and rubbed her hands over her face, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information that had just been presented to her. "How do you know so much?"
"Quite simple. I have had a very long time to learn." He turned the datapad right back on and started going over the chart Meren had so meticulously spent the past hour crafting.
She hadn't exactly expected him to respond, and found herself asking, "And how long is that?"
"Not an easy question," he purred without looking up from the screen.
"You don't know how old you are?"
"Not precisely," he admitted, finally glancing up at her. "Measuring time is... complicated."
"It's really not…"
Variks gave her a look that begged to differ as he steepled his claws. "Perhaps not to you. But, think. What is a 'year'? One revolution around a star? This is different on Earth, the Reef, Riis. During the Long Drift. And what of seconds, minutes, hours? These are all human constructs, Meren... not Eliksni." He paused, giving her but a second to consider. "You understand now why your question is difficult, yess?"
"I suppose," she said slowly, still not satisfied with his answer. "But, if you had to guess…"
Variks humored her, tilting his head from side to side, undoubtedly working out some alien math. "In earth years? Perhaps one thousand. My best approximation."
The number hardly fazed her and she grinned. "You don't look a day over six hundred."
"Verry funny." He didn't sound amused. "Eliksni do not age as humans do. You know this. You wrote it in your book."
The smile never left her face. "You read it? How was it?"
"Your efforts were... exemplary," he purred, pausing a moment before adding, "Perhaps I should ask how you know so much?"
"Years of study," she humored him. "Same as you….just not quite as many."
"How many?" he asked, throwing her own question right back at her.
The question seemed somehow familiar. "I've told you once already. I've been at the academy fifteen years…"
"That is not what I am asking."
Meren stared at him for a second before realizing he was asking. It was only fair that she tell him her age, seeing as she had asked the same of him. But as she made to reply, she realized that she didn't know. So she deflected as best she could, "Don't you know it's impolite to ask a lady her age?"
"Why?" Variks stared at her like it was the stupidest thing he had ever heard.
Meren glanced up at the ceiling for a second, trying to figure out how she could possibly explain this to him. "Women don't like being perceived as looking older than they actually are-"
"You do not look old."
"You flatter me," she said dryly. If he had meant it as a compliment, it was one of the worst she had ever heard. "But as I was saying, it's a human superstition of sorts…"
Variks eyed her, asking, "Do you believe in such a thing?"
"No."
"Then you are avoiding my question," he said pointedly. Determined.
Meren sighed. He wasn't going to let it go, so she gave it her best guess. "If you must know, I'm thirty-five... probably."
He snorted. "You ask me my age when you do not even know yourself?"
"I do," she insisted. "It's just that I've kept myself so busy at the Academy that I haven't had the chance to do anything for my birthday in years and-"
"Birth-day…?"
For a fleeting second she thought he was playing dumb. "You don't know what a birthday is?"
He shook his head, genuinely confused.
Of course not, she quickly reminded herself, Eliksni don't celebrate birthdays. "It's a human tradition. An annual celebration of the day you're born," she tried to explain. "Friends and family bring you gifts. You put candles on a cake - more or less, depending on how old you are…"
Variks seemed to have forgotten how to blink. "You set fire to your own food in celebration…?"
"Yes," she said slowly, suddenly aware of how odd it all must sound.
Variks let out a derisive snort. "Human traditions are very strange."
"And Eliksni's aren't?" she countered.
He poked a claw at the table. "We are not the ones setting fire to our food…"
"Technically the cake itself isn't on fire. It's only the candles…"
Having come a long way from Psions in such a short time, they bickered on about the particulars of birthdays for a while longer. Meren tried desperately to defend the time-honored tradition while simultaneously trying to convince Variks that she hadn't lost the last of her marbles. Variks was having none of the nonsensical celebration, right up until she promised to throw him a birthday party of his own - sans one thousand candles - and finally won him over.
It was then that Meren yawned, realizing just how late it had gotten; she had lost track of time. Again. So she courteously thanked Variks for everything before pushing herself up from the table.
"You are welcome to stay," he offered politely. "Would give us time to... talk a little longer."
She couldn't help but smile. "I appreciate your hospitality, Variks, but I think I've had quite enough of Psions for one day."
"We need not speak any further of Psions," he said. "We could talk of...other things, if you prefer."
Her mind was made up about leaving, yet curiosity compelled her to ask, "Like what?"
"Perhaps something that fascinates you…" His eyes glittered. "Perhaps...Archon's Forge?"
Meren hesitated, sorely tempted to sit right back down. She had inquired about the particulars of the ritual a few days back, and at the time Variks had been hesitant to say much of anything on the subject. But now he was conveniently offering to enlighten her, and in the moment his offer seemed almost too good to pass up. Almost.
"Nice try," Meren narrowed her eyes before turning to grab her cloak from where it hung on a hook by the door.
"Something else, then," he offered.
"No." She knew that if she stayed any longer, she would never leave. "I'm going to bed."
Variks shook his head forcefully and pushed himself up from the table, his expression unreadable. "So adamant. Thought you wanted to learn about Eliksni."
"I do. But it's late...and I'm tired." She pulled the cloak about her shoulders. "And despite my curiosity, even I need to sleep sometime...and so do you."
Variks pressed the issue no further as he came over to join her at the door.
"I'll be back bright and early tomorrow," she said, fussing with her cloak, "then you'll have plenty of time to tell me about Archon's Forge, or Psions, or whatever you want."
At that Variks' eyes seemed to soften. "And time for more research, yess?"
Meren smiled up at him and nodded, her cloak slightly askew.
Variks' extended one of his lower hands, palm up. "May I?"
Even though she had no idea what he was even asking permission to do, Meren nodded her head reflexively, trusting him.
Reaching out, he laid his lower hands softly on her shoulders. With such care he straightened the fabric, arranging it just so before bringing his hands together to fasten the small silver clasp at her neck. A little jolt went through her as his claws trailed languidly back across her shoulder before he finally let his hands fall away.
Meren tried to reason away the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach as Variks looked down at her, his eyes filled with something akin to fondness.
"Sleep well...Meren," he purred, holding her gaze for just a moment longer. Then he turned away.
Before Meren had a chance to think twice, she reflexively reached out and caught him by the wrist. "Wait."
Variks froze and stared down at her hand.
"Aren't you going to escort me back to my room?" She felt silly asking, but he had made a habit of seeing her safely back the past few days. And as eager as she was to get back to her room, maybe a few more minutes would be nice. It would give them more time to...talk.
Variks gave his head a curious tilt. "Would you like me to?"
Meren nodded faintly. She knew she was pushing her luck, but she had to try, "Maybe...you could tell me a little about Archon's Forge on the way?"
Variks chucked in return. "It would be my pleasure."
Grinning, Meren was just about to step out through the door when Variks unexpectedly extended his lower elbow to her. The gesture was so utterly human, completely out of place coming from an Eliksni, that were it anyone but Variks, she might have been thoroughly stumped. She blinked at him for just a second as he stood there with his eyes closed, waiting. She knew what he was offering. And who was she to refuse such a chivalrous gesture?
Meren took his arm then, nestling her hand in the crook of his elbow, and let him lead her onward. They talked of Archon's Forge for a time, meandering back through the dank, winding labyrinth of passages, Meren glued to Variks' side all the while. It wasn't nearly long enough for her tastes and they reached the maze's end too soon.
Variks dropped his arm then, before they stepped outside - before the Guardians could see. Meren knew it was her cue to release him, but she found herself holding on a moment longer, wishing she didn't have to let go.
AN: I apologize for the protracted wait, but I hope this chapter made it worth it! As always, special thanks to Keltoi for all the edits and encouragement.
