She felt like shit. Being patronised made her feel worse.
"We're going to put you back to sleep now. I'll see you again when you wake up." She had just enough time to decide she didn't like being turned on and off like a light switch, before the darkness hit her once again.
----
The next time she woke she was alone in a room. A big room with big, sunlit windows. She realised she felt much more clear-headed, and could see better. She could certainly see the sunlight. It was beautiful. The windows went all the way around the room, and everywhere were the spires of tall buildings in a gleaming blue sky. Aircars passing. Light reflecting from glass. Light splashed over the lounge suite and pot plants, and she realised that it was not a regular hospital ward. More like a live-in apartment, her bed settled over in a corner behind the chairs, a dresser at her side. And an IV drip, with computer monitor.
After an indeterminate time watching the sunlight, some people came in. She heard a double-lock clack before the door opened and deduced with light-headed surprise that it was a secure room. Like a prison, really. But a nice prison.
"Cassandra?" said a man. She shifted her head minutely to look, and discovered that there was a plug in the back of her skull, connected to a cord that ran to the computer bank. She stared at it stupidly for a moment, feeling no real surprise. "Cassandra, these men are from the CSA. That's the Callayan Security Agency. They would like to have a word with you. Do you mind talking to them?"
A question. Questions required answers. She remembered thinking so. How to answer ... she strained her memory. Do you mind? It wasn't much of a question, really. Since when did it matter if she minded or not?
"Cassandra," said a different man with an interesting accent. The sensor plug cord on the pillow beside her head finally lost her interest, and she looked at him. A heavy, brown-skinned man. Indian, she recalled. Long, unruly hair. That was unusual. "We are directing a very important investigation, Cassandra. We are trying to catch the people who did this to you. They were FIA, Cassandra, Federal Intelligence Agency. Would you like to help us catch them?"
Another question. It was asking too much of her, in this state, to answer questions. And they were blocking her view of that lovely sunlight through the windows. She wished they'd move a little, all three of them.
"Cassandra," the man said after a moment, more forcefully this time, "what are you doing in Tanusha? Why did you come here? Why did you leave the League?" Pause. "Do you understand me?" Then aside to the doctor, "Can she even hear what I'm saying?"
"... are you a Hindu ...?" she asked the man, in the soft whisper that was as much of a voice as she could muster. A moment's consternation.
"Yes. Yes, I am a Hindu. Cassandra, this is very important..."
"... I like Krishna ..." she whispered. "... he's a good god ... and Ganesh. Do you have a favourite ...?" Another pause. She wondered if he could hear.
"I've always been very partial to Lakshmi, myself," came the reply after a moment.
"... if I ever had a religion, I think I might like to be a Hindu ..." It seemed an important thought. She had often wondered what it felt like, having a religion. Believing in something. Belonging to it. Now, of all times, it felt important.
"If you could answer my questions," the man replied, "maybe I could help you to become a Hindu. Would you like to answer my questions?"
The doctor, she saw, was checking some readings on the bedside screens. Said something to the men. Something about drugs, post-operative procedures and it really being too early...
"Cassandra," the man persisted, coming very close then, "I have an extremely important situation on my hands here, I am trying to catch the people who did this to you. These are very dangerous people, Cassandra, and they're loose in my city. Please help us catch them."
"... it's not my war any longer ..." she
"We're going to put you back to sleep now. I'll see you again when you wake up." She had just enough time to decide she didn't like being turned on and off like a light switch, before the darkness hit her once again.
----
The next time she woke she was alone in a room. A big room with big, sunlit windows. She realised she felt much more clear-headed, and could see better. She could certainly see the sunlight. It was beautiful. The windows went all the way around the room, and everywhere were the spires of tall buildings in a gleaming blue sky. Aircars passing. Light reflecting from glass. Light splashed over the lounge suite and pot plants, and she realised that it was not a regular hospital ward. More like a live-in apartment, her bed settled over in a corner behind the chairs, a dresser at her side. And an IV drip, with computer monitor.
After an indeterminate time watching the sunlight, some people came in. She heard a double-lock clack before the door opened and deduced with light-headed surprise that it was a secure room. Like a prison, really. But a nice prison.
"Cassandra?" said a man. She shifted her head minutely to look, and discovered that there was a plug in the back of her skull, connected to a cord that ran to the computer bank. She stared at it stupidly for a moment, feeling no real surprise. "Cassandra, these men are from the CSA. That's the Callayan Security Agency. They would like to have a word with you. Do you mind talking to them?"
A question. Questions required answers. She remembered thinking so. How to answer ... she strained her memory. Do you mind? It wasn't much of a question, really. Since when did it matter if she minded or not?
"Cassandra," said a different man with an interesting accent. The sensor plug cord on the pillow beside her head finally lost her interest, and she looked at him. A heavy, brown-skinned man. Indian, she recalled. Long, unruly hair. That was unusual. "We are directing a very important investigation, Cassandra. We are trying to catch the people who did this to you. They were FIA, Cassandra, Federal Intelligence Agency. Would you like to help us catch them?"
Another question. It was asking too much of her, in this state, to answer questions. And they were blocking her view of that lovely sunlight through the windows. She wished they'd move a little, all three of them.
"Cassandra," the man said after a moment, more forcefully this time, "what are you doing in Tanusha? Why did you come here? Why did you leave the League?" Pause. "Do you understand me?" Then aside to the doctor, "Can she even hear what I'm saying?"
"... are you a Hindu ...?" she asked the man, in the soft whisper that was as much of a voice as she could muster. A moment's consternation.
"Yes. Yes, I am a Hindu. Cassandra, this is very important..."
"... I like Krishna ..." she whispered. "... he's a good god ... and Ganesh. Do you have a favourite ...?" Another pause. She wondered if he could hear.
"I've always been very partial to Lakshmi, myself," came the reply after a moment.
"... if I ever had a religion, I think I might like to be a Hindu ..." It seemed an important thought. She had often wondered what it felt like, having a religion. Believing in something. Belonging to it. Now, of all times, it felt important.
"If you could answer my questions," the man replied, "maybe I could help you to become a Hindu. Would you like to answer my questions?"
The doctor, she saw, was checking some readings on the bedside screens. Said something to the men. Something about drugs, post-operative procedures and it really being too early...
"Cassandra," the man persisted, coming very close then, "I have an extremely important situation on my hands here, I am trying to catch the people who did this to you. These are very dangerous people, Cassandra, and they're loose in my city. Please help us catch them."
"... it's not my war any longer ..." she
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