Chapter 6: Meetings & Discoveries

Chapter 6: Meetings & Discoveries Artemis Long was nervous about the meeting. He didn’t show it, of course, but the fear was there, gnawing away at him, driving him to dig his bitten nails into his palms. The elegant red doors opened with a click and Artemis nodded to the members that filed out. A few nodded back but most ignored him. He waited till they had all left then approached the door. It shut with a low bang before he got close. A neutral voice rung out into the long hallway. "The room is currently full. Please wait a moment." Artemis knew this to not be the case, but he still took a step back to wait against the opposite wall. He forced himself to look away from the door and at the walls. They were covered with painted portraits in the style of kings and tyrants of the past, but their subjects were neither. They were men of the new era, men of reason, men of unity, men of equality. A few minutes later, the same message repeated, and again some more minutes later. He knew the tactics and he knew this prolonged wait was meant to unnerve him, make him shiver, making him pliable. He cleared his throat and dug his nails deeper into his palms. The problem was the tactics still worked whether you knew about them or not. The voice rung out again. "The room is currently-" Then fell silent. There was a click and the red door opened. Artemis sighed with relief and quickly entered. Unlike the hall outside, or indeed the rest of the building, the office of The Superior was modern, starkly so, with sheets of stainless steel for wallpaper and sharp glass for tables and chairs. Apart from the man himself, the only other bit of life was the single sunflower that sat in a glass tube by the window, the window that looked onto... nothingness. Artemis walked quickly then stopped a respectful distance from the glass table and bowed. There was a massive bookshelf behind the desk that spanned the entire wall. Like the rest of the furniture, it too was made of glass and was rather dizzying to look at, not that this bothered its owner. Standing in front of the bookshelf, with his back turned to Artemis, was a man. He was bald and dressed in a plain white t-shirt and jeans and he waved a dismissive hand before selecting a book and pulling it from the shelf. "Sit, sit," he said conversationally as he turned and took a seat himself on his glass chair. Artemis quickly obeyed the man and sat. He did not speak. He knew better than to. After a few minutes passed, the bald man snapped the book shut then finally regarded his guest with his sharp blue eyes. "I hear you had a mishap with your son," he said pleasantly. It was hard to gauge his age, his facial features and skin suggested him to be young, while his mannerisms and the look in his eye were that of a wizened elder. "It is being rectified," Artemis said quickly in response, nails digging even deeper into his flesh. The bald man nodded with a smile. "I’m glad to hear it," he said. "It would be a great shame if things got out of hand." Artemis swallowed. "I believe your report mentioned an interloper," the bald man went on. He picked up a piece of paper from his desk covered in dense text that didn’t look quite like any commonly used language. "They had a... sword?" "Yes, sir," Artemis replied. "It appears to have superior cutting powers. He was able to render my servant inoperable though I was still able to make a short recording of the proceedings." He drew out a sheaf of papers from inside his jacket and placed them respectfully on the table. "Mm, indeed." The bald man gestured, and a figure emerged silently from the shadows, startling Artemis. The figure was a young boy dressed in a traditional garb with bells on the hems of his sleeves. He picked up the papers from the table then gestured to Artemis. "Sir..." began Artemis, but an impatient gesture from the bald man cut him off. "You still have the crystal?" he asked. "Yes, sir." "Someone will be collecting it from you. For the Unity of Mankind. You may go." Crestfallen, Artemis rose, bowed, then went to the door. "For the Unity of Mankind," he repeated in parting, then left. The bald man continued to study the report. "Follow him. No more mistakes." The bell boy nodded. -- It took me ages to get to sleep that first night, but I somehow work up early and bright the next morning. I waited a moment as I sat in bed, waiting for the fear or panic to set in but it didn’t come. I didn’t know what was in stall for me, but so far, I felt like it would be alright. With a grin on my face and a spring in my step, I jumped out of bed, ready to meet the day. Bran had put me in what he called ’the guest room’ but it was pretty clear to me from all the black and grey in it that this must have been his room from back when he lived with his aunt. He hadn’t told me much, just that she’d looked after him when he had no one else - I didn’t even know if she was an aunt on his father’s side or his mother’s side - but they were clearly close. I’m not sure how long he’d been away for, but his aunt hadn’t looked to have moved a single thing in his room. My curiosity was still running high but the gnawing in my stomach drove me to find food first. Something I hadn’t considered when we were talking around the Walled City the day before was the whole lighting situation. In the corridors and passageways, there were lights every few steps since there was no way the sun was getting in, but the same holds true for inside the homes. Without turning on any lights, it was nearly pitch black though there were, oddly, windows in each room. Not that they opened onto anything, just the walls of other buildings. Talk about weird design decisions. Unexpectedly, the living room wasn’t dark when I went out into it. Amazingly, you were already up and sitting at the coffee table with a glowing lamp and a book in your lap. "Morning," I said, walking up to you. "Morning," you replied without looking up. I looked over your shoulder at the book but it was all in Chinese. There was a pocket dictionary on the table and a notebook. I hadn’t expected you to be a book worm. "What you reading?" I asked. "The Shan Hai Jing," you replied. I waited for an explanation, but none came so I sat down on another beanbag and started to zone out while looking at all the little figurines on the shelves. Your aunt is a real collector. "Hey, move your tail, it’s in the way." "Oh, sorry." I shifted automatically then froze. "My what?!" I turned and saw the scaley white thing poking out from the band of my shorts. "Bran!" "Yes?" "I have a tail!" You looked at me and nodded. "Yes. I can see that," you said before looking down at your book again. "Why do I have a tail?!" "It’s your tail, what’s it got to do with me?" I dropped in front of you and must have had a pitiful enough expression for you to look up from your book. "Go check the mirror." -- In addition to a tail, Misha was now in the possession of two horns on his head, some scales here and there, sharpened nails, and two slitted eyes, though his irises were still, thankfully, very dark which mostly hid his new draconic nature. "Bran!" he moaned, tail swishing back and forth. It had green-blue hair down its centre and a great big tuft of it at its end. The green-blue hair was also present at the base of Misha’s neck and base of his head, giving him a rather modern looking two-toned hairstyle. Misha sat on the floor, his chin on the table. Bran sighed and gave him a pat on the head. With the tail, he was right on his way to becoming a dog and Bran did not dislike dogs. "Once we buy some food we can have breakfast," he said. Misha’s eyes lit up at the word ’food’ but then his tail drooped again. "How can I go outside?" "Why can’t you go outside? Just wear a hat." "And my tail?" Bran considered the problem for a moment then he got up. "Wait." He went to one of the rooms Misha hadn’t yet been in. Misha lay back on the rug and stared up at the ceiling. He’d been feeling so good when he first woke up... "Here." A pair of jeans dropped on Misha’s head. He pulled them off and sat up. "Won’t it look... weird if something starts moving in my pants?" "Don’t put your tail down your pants. Put it around your waist like a belt. See?" Bran reached over and hooked a finger into one of the belt loops round the waist of the jeans. "Oh!" Without any hesitation, Misha immediately stripped off his shorts and pulled on the jeans. Bran had seen him completely naked less than twenty-four hours ago, what was a little more stripping anyway? He didn’t notice how Bran looked away, ears a little pink. "I think..." Misha said, turning a full circle, "If I wear a loose shirt or a jacket or something, this’ll work." Complexion under control again, Bran rolled his eyes. "Of course it’ll work." It did not work. Barely five minutes after leaving the flat, Misha’s tail unfurled, nearly ripping his shirt in half. A small child had suddenly yelled and jumped out from a doorway, startling the poor dragon. "Pew! Pew!" announced the little kid, waving a plastic handgun at him, then ran off down the corridor with the rest of his friends. Misha sat down heavily on the ground and sighed. "What do I do now...?" Bran caught his waving tail, wrapped it around his hand then sat next to Misha. "Maybe putting it down your pants isn’t such a bad idea."