The Afflicted Ch. 09

"We're short of deplaceurs," explained Bullet. "There's a lot of movement right now and we have too much post to take care of."

"Post?" complained Aimée. "When do I get to start moving people?"

"When the council deems it appropriate," said Bullet. "Deplaceurs are rare enough as it is. Should word get out that we have another, the questions will soon follow about who your parents are."

So Aimée began the rather tedious exercise of postal duty.

She found it ironic that her primary pickup point was Reykjavik, yet the only room she had ever seen in the Afflicted capitol was the central postal room.

The system was actually quite simple. Each center had a room with mail slots around the edges much like a standard post office. The primary difference from an mortal post office was the fact that there was no door into the central room, and no way to enter short of a battering ram. Each slot was safety locked, so that no one could open any of the mail slots while the jump-couriers were retrieving the contents of any single one. The size of the slots ranged from those small enough to hold a small scroll or envelope, up to those which held larger boxes.

While it seemed trivial, the postal service of the Afflicted was anything but. Often it was time-sensitive materials like blood samples or supplies. There was also the issue of correspondence -- long ago it had been decided that no sort of letter was truly harmless in the wrong hands, no matter how innocuous the material might seem. All correspondence, be it a post card, a romantic letter, or a detailed document about Afflicted business, it all had to travel via trusted hands.

Financially, the Afflicted had long enjoyed an advantage with their ability to deliver advanced information about the various markets, though that edge had been diminished by the advent of trans-oceanic telegraph lines. The last item that was often transported was produce and other food items. It seemed pedestrian, but a large amount of what the deplaceurs moved about was food. They sent tomatoes from Italy to Norway, steaks from Texas to New York, rare fish from Chile to the restaurants of Paris. The members of the Afflicted enjoyed a diet of food which was equal to that enjoyed only by the royalty and most wealthy of the day.

One of the skills Aimée was still learning was how to combine different hops between cities. A large box had to be taken on its own. However, if she was taking smaller pieces she was able to combine multiple routes, three to Vienna, pick up, on to Cologne, etc. Brolly showed an amazing aptitude for it, and he tutored her in easy formulas she could use to calculate the easiest and most efficient jumps.

Beyond the calculations, it was relatively mindless work -- so she at least had time to dwell on her times with Jacob over the past weeks -- and also with Claude that very morning.

* * * *

Abby had been kept rather busy at the New York clinic. There had been more fights than usual and two more encounters with the Black Guard. Luckily, they had lost no lives and no prisoners had been taken -- but there were still some significant injuries.

For an Afflicted to be injured enough to report to the clinic meant they were in very rough shape. Today's victim was a severed hand. It was a Cassandra, a cohort of Bullet who had drawn duty guarding a council member who had business above. They had run across two swordsmen who clearly worked for the guard and Cassandra had matched swords with them easily. However, one of the opponents had pulled out a pistol in desperation and in attempting to shield the Council member, Cassandra had lost the advantage.

The end result was a bullet to her shoulder, which was already healing nicely. However, the true damaged was that her hand had been severed several inches above the wrist and the limb had gone a bit too long before they put it on ice.

It was Abby's job to soothe Cassandra, and she was doing that well. Madame Villepreux-Power was doing her best to stem any further tissue loss, but the amount of damage had her greatly concerned. Though the abilities of the Afflicted were remarkable, there were still limits.

Abby had become much better at offloading pain than she had once been. She still remembered the first time she had helped a friend who had a broken arm. The pain had been her own as the doctor had set the bone. Now she knew to let the nervous energy flow through her. She thought of it like a fountain in a way. The pain flowed into Abby's body, dampened, and then she used a mental image of that force flowing out into scattered remnants in the air.

"You are amazing," said Cassandra in wonder. "I felt like I was near death and then you touched me. For all I know I could get up and walk about almost like normal if it weren't for my hand."

"It's the least I can do," said Abby.

Abby watched as Madame Villepreux-Power continued pouring a saline solution over the severed ends. Cassandra was holding the stump in a basin and the hand was in another sink, both of them not unlike those found beside dentist chairs. The water flowed over the ends and then poured into the drain. Being so connected to all things ocean, it was the great biologist's favorite way to work. When she had joined the Afflicted, she had discovered she had great healing powers -- but it still had much to do with fluids. If there was blood involved, she was at her best. When it came to mending bones, she had to work a bit harder and found the greatest success when working her way from the marrow outward.

"What does the water do?" asked Cassandra.

With no pain, she was watching the process with great fascination. The Afflicted, by nature, were seldom squeamish about blood or injuries. It wasn't simply that they were drawn to blood. With their strong healing powers. They were also injured more often in training and battles.

"Blood and the ocean," explained Madame Villepreux-Power, "are surprisingly similar. Both are rich in life and have a strong mixture of salt and water. I have stemmed the flow of blood from your arm inside, but I am keeping the ends as nourished as I can with this solution."

"Will you be able to reattach it?" the patient asked fearfully.

"I have two answers to that," said Villepreux-Power in a frank tone. "It was not a clean cut. I could trim the damage off of both ends but it would be a rather inelegant fix. Your arm would be shorter and the merged portion would be uneven. If I must, I will do just that, but I am hoping I can find a way to make you as good as new and I have a friend coming along to help."

Who that friend was soon became apparent. Abby felt the presence long before he entered the room.

Though the Afflicted maintained youthful bodies, there was a difference when it came to age. Even those with other gifts could tell. There was a different set of the eyes, a different approach to life when one had centuries of experience under their belt. For Abby, the difference was even more magnified. She could still remember the time she had met a first-bitten, Antoninus. His presence had been wise and peaceful.

This presence that Abby sensed was both ancient, but also terribly curious. Antoninus had been content and confident... but also staid. It was as though he had figured this thing called 'life' out and didn't need to learn new things beyond keeping up with the changes in the world. This person that Abby had sensed was certainly confident but he continued to wish to learn. She probed toward it, trying to learn his... yes it was definitely a 'him'. However, as she reached out, she felt her probing rebuked.

She would soon learn who it was. The door opened and a man with a salt and pepper beard entered with a beautiful companion.

"Thank god you are here, Galen," said Villepreux-Power, "I've kept things stable, but I'd desperately like to restore things before grafting it back on."

"Very good, very good," said Galen.

Abby had barely been able to suppress a gasp of surprise at the man's name. She reached out again to see what she could learn of him. This time she was met with a solid wall of resistance.

Galen began to examine the arm and the severed hand, not even sparing a glance for Abby.

"I would thank you, young empath, to mind your manners," he said. "As nice as your gift might be, you need to learn some lessons about snooping where you aren't welcome."

Abby blushed furiously. She had never before met someone who could even detect her gifts, let alone deflect them.

"I am most sorry, doctor," she said.

Cassandra let out a moan of pain as Abby's focus wavered from her embarrassment.

"Apology accepted," said Galen. "Now please see to your patient again, it does make our job so much easier."

Abby reapplied her soothing and Cassandra's face quickly eased again with a smile of gratitude toward Abby.

"Now then, now then -- let us look."

Galen examined the wound.

"Damn. Large blade, clumsy cut, you must have been shielding yourself, ooh, I see a bullet wound. Damned guns, I never did like them."

Galen kept muttering to himself. He looked over the wound before turning to Cassandra herself. He took her face in his hands and peered deep into her eyes. Abby could tell he was doing more, reaching into her system and examining all of her parts, but after being chastised she didn't dare look any more closely.

"Colette my dear," said Galen. "Have a look at her, would you? See what you can do to strengthen her as much as you can."

The lovely younger woman nodded and moved in to sit by Cassandra.

"Now, Cassandra is it?" said Colette.

Cassandra nodded.

"Cassandra, your body has taken a heavy blow. Even though it is healing, your system is still reeling. For us to help you heal and get this hand reattached, it will need all of the help it can get. I'm going to stimulate the proper glands within you to send energy and healing to all the parts that need it. It is nothing abnormal, I'm just tutoring your body, you might say. Are you ready?"

Again, Cassandra nodded.

Abby watched Cassandra's face flush and a smile come to her face as a wash of 'good' began streaming through her body.

"Oh my," said Cassandra. "Can you do that for me any time?"

"It is lovely, isn't it?" said Colette. "But no, it is reserved for emergencies. It is best to allow your body to keep things in balance as it sees fit under normal circumstances."

"Now Colette, if you would do one last sweep through the cuts."

"Of course, doctor," said Colette.

She looked down on the wounds and one by one, tiny bits of dead flesh fell off into the saline solution to be washed away. It took perhaps ten minutes, but soon every remaining bit of flesh was pink and vibrant.

"Very good, dear," said Galen.

"Now are you going to reattach it?" asked Madame Villepreux-Power.

"No, you are," said Galen.

"But I can't," complained the woman. "I mean, I could -- but the loss there, it is uneven."

"And," said Galen patiently, "you are going to regrow it."

"But I don't know how."

"Jeanne," said Galen. "What use are your remarkable gifts if you don't use them to the fullest."

"But Galen," protested the scientist. "I truly don't know how."

"But you do," said Galen. "Tell me Jeanne, what is that nickname the English use for your countrymen?"

"Frogs," said Villepreux-Power with a roll of her eyes.

"Frogs indeed. Think of frogs and you need look no further than those amphibious creatures to find your answer."

"I do not understand, Galen."

"My dear, I am sure you had the pleasure of finding frog's eggs when you were a girl, yes?"

"Oh, I did that," said Cassandra. "We found them in a pond and we put them in a glass bowl. We watched them grow arms and legs, and lose their tails and once they were small frogs we put them back in the pond."

"So did I," said Madame Villepreux-Power. "But I don't see the point."

"The point is," said Galen, "that if I took a frog with its front leg chopped off, I wouldn't be able to help it. However, I was able to watch that same leg grow. Those same cells knew how to grow at one point. Now Jeanne, I know you have peered many times into the womb of a woman who is with child. You must have, with your fascination of the ocean. I would imagine you love paying a visit to that little infant swimming in the waters of life, yes?"

"Of course," said the biologist.

"Then here is the secret. That little human pollywog, it knows how to grow. This is the great mystery of the human cells. How can they know how to do something as remarkable as grow brand new tissue and bone -- and then somehow forget it? The information is still there? Of course, it is a matter of survival. If our bones kept growing indefinitely, we would grow to be giants. The point is, the cells still know how to grow -- you just need to teach them how once more."

Madame Villepreux-Power contemplated the idea and then began reaching out with her mind. Unwittingly, Abby was compelled to follow the train of thought and energy, since she was still connected with Cassandra to ease her pain. She witnessed the biologist's mind reaching out and delving deep into the cells. After quite a bit of experimentation, Villepreux-Power was finally able to communicate with the individual cells. They were not smart. Each had one job, and one job only. Convincing it of anything else was difficult. Abby smiled as she saw Villepreux-Power's thoughts racing through the countless creatures she knew; pollywogs, urchins, clams, mussels, and recalled the times those things grew.

Finally, the scientist hit on the right message and sent it out. The 'minds' of the cells suddenly switched. They were no longer mature -- they were infants. Their job, now, was to reproduce. The slow sequence began.

Madame Villepreux-Power gasped in excitement.

"Why, Galen," she said. "I could have it grow all the way. I could have her grow an entirely new hand!"

"You could indeed," said Galen, giving the woman an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "However, that is a great deal of work for poor Cassandra here. Since we have the hand, let's just let the two ends find each other and do as they wish."

The hand was a bit more of a challenge -- though it was still alive, it was disconnected and seemed to be in a state of deep shock. Madame Villepreux-Power understood, however, and once the end of Cassandra's arm had grown to the correct length, she placed the hand against it. The cells began to commune and the hand 'woke up' for lack of a better word. It also reverted back to some sort of embryotic state and began to grow as well. The two sides began to merge. Perhaps a half an hour later, the hand was reattached, and there was no sign of a scar.

As it had gone on, Abby had felt Cassandra growing more and more drowsy. Her eyelids were barely open when the merge was complete.

"Should I?" she whispered to the other three, indicating what she could do by passing her free hand over her eyes.

Galen gave a nod and Abby willed Cassandra into a deeper sleep so that her body might complete the healing and rejuvenation process.

They quietly slipped into the hall.

"Thank you, Galen," said Madame Villepreux-Power. "I feel I have grown by leaps and bounds today. Thank you for coming back to us."

"You are welcome," said Galen. "Now, if you ladies will excuse us, I would like to spend some time with this rather precocious young empath here. Abby, I believe?"

Abby nodded, awed at the powerful presence Galen continued to emanate. She was also a bit blind. After being remonstrated by the doctor, she was cautious about borrowing his eyes (or anyone else's) after the reprimand he had given her.

"Good then, Abby, please come with me."

He led her into the next examining room and closed the door.

"Well then, strip," he said calmly.

"But I... but you..."

"But, but, but -- what seems to be the problem?" asked Galen.

"It's just, you look into everywhere with your mind, I don't see why I would need to."

"Young lady," said Galen. "You are an empath, by all accounts a powerful one. Tell me, where are you most effective? When you are standing apart from someone? Or, when parts of your skin are touching theirs?"

"I see, yes," said Abby. "If I am touching them, it is infinitely more effective."

"Then you must understand, my role here is to thoroughly inspect you for the Council. I have been tasked with doing a full analysis of you and your little group of friends. If I'm to do so, I need to be most thorough. I will add, I have seen more naked bodies in my life than you can possibly imagine in both erotic and clinical settings. If there is a time for modesty, it isn't now. Please. Strip."

Abby did as he ordered and Galen pulled out a notepad and pen.

"Would you look at this?" he said pointing to the ornate fountain pen in his hand. "The years I spent sharpening quills, I do so love these new inventions."

He began scrawling out a few notes, in Latin, Abby surmised.

"Lay down," said Galen while he was still writing.

Abby felt her way to the bed and got up.

"Why are you stumbling about like that, girl?" he asked.

"You... you were upset when I was 'snooping', so I didn't want to borrow your eyes.

"How remarkable," said Galen. "How we do adapt so quickly. You're like a three-legged dog. No please, feel free to use my eyes or ears, or what have you. Just don't go any further, it is annoying and rude to probe into the consiousness -- especially among friends."

"I'm sorry, Doctor," she said. "I'll be more considerate from now on."

"I understand, dear," said Galen. "And I've heard you've put these talents to quite amazing use in the training circle."

"It does help," said Abby modestly.

"I'm sure it does more than help, dear," said Galen. "Seeing through your enemy's eyes. Thinking your enemy's thoughts. Generals time immemorial would have traded their right arms for that sort of gift. Now, just lay back and relax, we'll have a look. Would you like to look with me?"

"Oh, yes please," said Abby.

"Good. Just so you know, I will keep certain areas of my mind off-limits, but it seems only fair that if I'm going to poke around inside of you that you go along for the ride."

Galen proceeded to work his way from her feet upwards. To an outside observer, it wouldn't have looked much different than a regular physical exam. To Abby, however, she could see that when he placed his hands on different places, for example her thighs, he was extending his consciousness through his hands into her muscle system, examining the muscles, tendons and bones beneath with the expert eye of one who had been studying the human anatomy for the greater part of written human history.

He moved upward from there and stopped at her belly. Pushing in as a regular doctor might have felt for an inflamed appendix or blocked intestine, she sensed his awareness soaring through her digestive and circulatory system. He moved to her heart, then her lungs. Next, he placed his hands on her temples and entered her mind. It was fascinating. Where Abby entered a mind through feelings and thoughts, Galen looked at it from a physical perspective. Abby watched in wonder as she saw a lightning storm of activity as cells in her own head talked to one another.

She then felt him exploring her eyes.

"Fascinating," said Galen.

"What is it, sir?" she asked.

"Please, just call me Galen," said the physician. "I should think the name itself commands enough respect. No sir or doctor is necessary. Abby, what I find fascinating is your vision. When you lost your sight, your Affliction began taking over. In a way, it is like it strengthened your gift for the sole purpose of helping you see again. It was like it couldn't repair your eyes, so it found a way to allow you to borrow others. I have a very serious question for you?