Abominations Read online

Page 4


  A vision of a man having been run through with a spear and lying flat on his back in the next room came to her then, the doctors politely rushing about their duties and the man softly murmuring “Oh my, I do hope I don't get blood on your bedding...” in the strange accent everyone seemed to have here. If that was the case Gwen must sound like a sailor on leave to these folk. Being alone most of the time she'd never really bothered to learn to curb her language or even not to talk to herself out loud. Well, no time like the present to learn.

  After lunch, a meal comprised of a small salad with a vinaigrette dressing, sliced fruit, and what seemed to be a small piece of meat loaf with thick gravy, each served on a separate tiny plate again, she finally found some entertainment. Bethany Westmorland, the detective, and a halfway cute Asian looking man walked in both looking at her a little blankly. He looked ethnically Chinese to her, having known a few from her martial arts classes over the years, possibly Korean though, so she'd be careful not to ask and make herself look stupid. Koreans and Chinese people could get touchy about that at times, in her world at least. Old rivalries basically.

  “Excuse me, Miss Farris? We met yesterday, I'm Bethany Westmorland, the Constabulary Detective. This is Daniel Chuan, also a Constabulary Detective. Is it alright if we come in?” She spoke carefully and from very near the door, her voice flat, as if exhausted and trying not to show it, or drunk, but given what she heard the day before, she'd be willing to bet the woman hadn't slept or eaten since they last spoke.

  Gwen gestured them in, still slowly, but without a lot of pain.

  “Please do come in,” she called to them, as if they weren't standing ten feet away. People here seemed very concerned with being polite, so she'd best copy that. She just hoped her guesses about what would count as proper worked here well enough to get by until she learned what to do for sure.

  She gestured at the chairs that had been left since the night before, and asked them to please sit, which seemed prudent as the female detective looked ready to drop where she stood anyway.

  “Detective Westmorland... not to be nosy, but when was the last time you slept, ate, or took a proper bath?” Gwen asked bluntly. The woman didn't reek, but she smelled slightly of stale sweat and looked to be wearing the same clothing as yesterday.

  Again, the woman asked the time. The other detective checked his wrist watch.

  “One fourteen... now,” he told her precisely.

  “I ate last night, when you instructed me to. I slept five days and fourteen hours ago and I last had a bath... seven days ago, if showering counts for these purposes.” This came out as if she had checked some interior clock or calendar, leaving no doubt that what she reported could be proven one hundred percent factual.

  Detective Chuan's eyes grew big.

  “Bethany, you have to eat and sleep! We can put up with the rest, but if you collapse you'll be useless to us. Why haven't you been taking care of yourself?” He didn't sound stern, simply concerned about his partner.

  If she was his partner. That hadn't actually been stated, Gwen remembered, trying to pay attention to everything, since anything could turn out to be new and different here, even things she thought she understood from back home.

  Bethany looked at him blankly.

  “I was given an assignment and no other instructions. I simply kept following those instructions to the best of my ability, as I'm required to.” This came out sounding free of emotion, blank.

  The man shook his head as if trying to clear it of something stupid.

  “We need to find you a caretaker very badly, Bethany.”

  Looking at him without expression, the female detective considered the situation for a moment.

  “We need to find these killers more,” she said.

  Chapter three

  The male detective, Daniel Chuan, held out small, brown glass vials for her to smell, trying to find what she'd noticed during the attack. After twenty or more vials, Gwen thought she had it.

  “That one. It's not exactly right, but nearly. The overtones were, I don't know, darker? If that makes any sense to you. Almost like licorice. Plus that, whatever it is.” The Asian man nodded and pulled out another vial, which he held near the first and had her smell again.

  “That's it!” She smiled, noticing that Bethany Westmorland kept drifting off into micro-sleep, unable to fight the exhaustion any longer.

  The detective picked up his pad and made a note. Then he carefully placed the glass vials back into the small wooden case they had come from, about the size of an old fashion lunch box, but with a strap that ran all the way around the box when closed, securing it tightly.

  “The licorice scent is anise, in this particular anise oil, we can't count on that having been the case specifically. It could have been incense or fresh herb. The other scent seems to have been dragon's blood, a resin commonly used in incense. If we can track down who uses those scents or oils in ritual sacrifice, or what properties those compounds might have, we may have a lead toward our perpetrators.” Finished packing the box, he set it down on the table that held her pitcher of water and drawings, picking the papers up first so he didn't accidentally smudge them. He looked at them critically, taking time to examine each of them carefully before speaking again.

  “These are quite good. May I take the ones showing the robes and the design of the knife? Like the identification of the scents, someone may be able to identify something from them that could lead us in the right direction...”

  As he finished speaking, her doctor entered, the blond man, wearing a white coat, clean shaved and looking crisp, his black shoes clicking softly on the floor as he walked.

  “I didn't realize anyone was here visiting. I recognize you, of course, Miss Westmorland, but this... gentleman is new to me...” Disapproval thick in his voice, he walked all the way into the room, not postured aggressively, Gwen noted, seeming almost scared instead.

  Gwen didn't know why he'd be scared of any of them. She wasn't a threat to anything right now, her chest still aching constantly, burning if she moved too fast. Bethany he'd seemed fine with the day before, if a little standoffish from.

  That left the new man as the reason for his strange behavior. Bethany, barely able to keep her eyes open, tried to speak, her voice coming out rough and crackling.

  Gwen interrupted her.

  “Doctor Schmidt... Miss Westmorland hasn't slept in over five days and seems to be near collapse. Would it be possible to have some food provided for her and perhaps a place to sleep, until she's safe to travel? Oh, since I'm being rude and interrupting anyway, this man is... Constabulary Detective Daniel Chuan.” She looked at the seated man then, being careful not to turn her head too far, since that would hurt. “Did I get your title right? A lot of the terms seem strange to me still, different world and all... you understand.” Smiling she waited for either confirmation or correction. The male detective gave her a small bow like gesture which she took to mean that she was close enough for the time being at least. That or she'd botched horribly and people here just didn't correct each other. If that was the case she was screwed, because she needed to get up to speed fast and that meant being called on things if she messed up. It wouldn't be comfortable, but anything less would mean not learning fast enough.

  White coat flapping, the doctor ran to the door and called for a nurse. When Rogers came, a soft sound of hurrying shoes from the hall, he asked for a bed to be found for the lady detective and some food to be brought over.

  Then he returned to the conversation, apologizing to them all.

  “I should have noticed... We'll see to this at once, Miss Westmorland really should have a proper attendant... It's very good of you, Miss Farris, to keep looking out for her like this, especially given the way the last few days have gone for yourself, with the unfortunate events...” The doctor turned red and looked suddenly flustered, as if he'd stepped over some kind of social line she didn't even recognize. Since he seemed like an alright person, if a
little stuffy, she tried to set his mind at ease.

  “Don't worry about me. I can handle the idea that someone tried to kill me without hysterics. Not my first time, after all. If that's what suddenly caused you to feel awkward I mean – gah! I don't even know your basic social rules here! I think you people might be far more polite than we are back home. Please forgive me if I'm messing up...” She smiled, trying to look encouraging.

  Taking a deep breath the doctor smiled himself.

  “You're doing fine. It's only my own behavior that is in question. Forgive me, please. We should have a bed for Miss Westmorland soon.”

  Bethany didn't say anything, just sat in the hard wooden chair without moving, her eyes looking hundreds of miles away.

  Daniel gave a seated half bow toward the doctor.

  “Thank you. While not as involved as a Westmorland Detective, all of us at the district house have been rather preoccupied with the current case and no one has managed to arrange anything for Bethany. The oversight is mine. Though not in charge of such things, I tend to work most closely with her and didn't think to check as I should. We owe Miss Farris a debt of gratitude. Much longer and I fear that we'd have lost our detective altogether, at least for a while.” Shaking his head, short black hair not moving, he straightened his brown suit jacket a bit, also looking more than a little disheveled Gwen noticed for the first time. Not sloppy, but not as neat as the other men she'd seen here either.

  Nurse Rogers motioned to Doctor Schmidt from the door. He went to her, bending close to listen for a few moments, then shaking his head. After a few more exchanges he turned to the people in the room, a strange, embarrassed expression on his face.

  “We seem to have run into a small difficulty. We have an extra bed, but not the space for it, I'm afraid...”

  Gwen saw Chuan stiffen, looking slightly angry though she didn't understand why yet. Obviously something had happened she didn't understand, but everyone else did. Bethany didn't seem to respond at all, so maybe she didn't get it either. That or she just didn't care.

  “Well, can the bed fit in here? There should be room... She's just going to be sleeping after all. I can be quiet enough, I think. Can we move some things around?” This came out smoothly. Her voice really did sound a lot better than it used to, before she got this new body, even though it had a slightly breathy quality. That was probably because of the chest wound, not anything wrong with the voice itself. A little breathy beat the nasal whine she'd grown used to over the years. This voice sounded almost too smooth if anything. Like a telephone porn operator rather than her. The idea almost made her giggle. That had been a career she'd never even considered back home.

  The doctor's head came up, and he smiled, looking relieved.

  “Yes. I think that will work just fine. Let me get that taken care of.” Leaving quickly, he turned to smile again at his patient from the door.

  Detective Chuan looked at her, surprised it seemed, but he didn't give her any indication as to why. After a few moments he stood and bowed to her, a deep bow, which if he'd been Japanese would have been a particular show of respect, at least in her world. His name pegged him as Chinese, or at least to her it did. Chuan... it meant fist and normally was affixed to a fighting style at the end. It could also mean boxing. Would that hold true in this new place? She had to wonder. Did anything she knew mean the same thing here as it did back home?

  After he held the bow for about five seconds, she smiled.

  “Um, if I'm supposed to bow back, you've got a wait on your hands, knife wound and all...” After this, he stood up straight, smiling himself.

  “No need... It's a sign of respect. I hope it didn't seem too odd to you?” He seemed suddenly embarrassed as if he'd possibly done something wrong.

  She shook her head slightly.

  “No, it's fine. Where I come from it's not exactly normal, but in some of my martial arts classes there's a lot of bowing. Especially Kenpo and Tae Kwon Do, the Chinese styles tend to be less formal, I mean, in Tai Chi Chuan we basically just said hi and started working on the forms or sticking hands exercises as soon as everyone got there. I don't know if you have that here?” Her voice faded at the end, seeing his eyes go wide, as if she'd said something strange again.

  Detective Westmorland stared at her too, watching with that intense gaze that seemed to take in everything about her. After about twenty seconds her gaze finally found her fellow detective, watching him with the same intensity for a while.

  He spoke, interested in the woman in front of him for yet another reason suddenly.

  “You practice martial arts? Several of them? It... would be inappropriate to talk of this here, but perhaps we can share information on the subject at some other time?” His question seemed polite, but as if it held something that, again, she missed from context. Was the topic considered rude or... Gwen didn't know, was it just so rare that it would be odd that she'd practiced fighting at all? Given her life she'd kind of had to, but that didn't show here at all, did it? Then again, if Katherine had been a better fighter, maybe all this wouldn't have happened to Gwen.

  Nodding, she smiled and told him that sounded like fun, which it did, since the topic beat the heck out of lying in bed doing nothing, which seemed to be the popular activity for people in the hospital here. Maybe abject boredom was how they insured people would want to get better as fast as possible?

  A bed on wheels came in, pushed by a man dressed all in white, an orderly she supposed. No one bothered to introduce him to her, so she didn't know for sure. When the bed had been situated and the wheels locked in place, the man left, without ever having spoken.

  Nurse Rogers came in, but didn't seem to know exactly what to do with the detective. After a few minutes of dithering, Gwen offered some suggestions.

  “I know this must be a huge imposition, not being your job at all, but could you see that Bethany gets to a shower or bath perhaps? And some food and water before she sleeps. Maybe one of these gowns to sleep in and, I don't know if it's possible... but if her clothing could be washed and returned by morning? I think any of this that can be come up with would be wonderful and most appreciated...” She added at the end, expecting the woman to cite union rules and storm out, or at least get after her for presuming to tell her what to do, which would be fair enough. Gwen tightened a little, waiting for the storm to come.

  Instead the older woman smiled, for once it reached her eyes fully.

  “Right away, ma'am! Of course, I should have thought of that myself. I think we can see to most of that quickly enough.” Looking at Bethany she hesitated.

  “I... It would be easiest if the detective came with me to the bath, however... I could bring something in if that's...”

  Gwen looked at the female detective and realized that her partner seemed uncomfortable with the talk of bathing. These people seemed to let embarrassment rule their behavior a lot, she realized, filing this away for later consideration. She'd already worked out that any language from her stronger than “darn” got a big reaction from these people for some reason. For that matter, they'd probably go wide eyed if she said that, she hadn't tried yet. They seemed to know all those words, so it wasn't a language barrier issue. They all just got a blank look when she said something that they really didn't understand. If she talked of computers they did nothing, but if she called someone a cock-smoking ass licker, they turned red and looked away, not that she'd said that particular phrase out loud at any time. Learning already. Gwen decided to apply some of what she'd picked up, testing it out.

  “Detective Chuan... would you take word of Detective Westmorland being here back to your... was it called the district house? To her boss? I think she should be available in the morning, so we can send her back then, if you think that's alright? That way you can go now and not have to listen to us talking about, um, lady things?” Keeping how delicate their sensibilities were in mind all the time took work for Gwen.

  She kept feeling like dropping in a few choice
words every now and then that she was pretty sure even most of the men here wouldn't know. That or start asking about the local version of a donkey show or something, just to see their reactions. They must have something, since they didn't have the internet for porn. That or they all had a lot of hobbies.

  The small man didn't have to be asked to carry the message twice it seemed, if it got him out of the room before this talk of intimate women's issues took place. He left a number where he could be reached with her and the nurse and left quickly, promising to be back in the morning to pick up Miss Westmorland, if not him personally, at least someone would be, Chuan added as he left.

  Apparently she'd gotten this one right, because the nurse smiled at her warmly, then shifted her gaze back to Bethany, a look of apprehension clear in her eyes.

 

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