“Where are we?” asked Felicity.
“The Annexe. The office of the head of the Southeast Asia section. It appears this was the closest place with an unoccupied couch.”
“What about my —” Felicity broke off, frightened to ask in case she got an answer.
“Your eyes are going to be fine,” said Leliefeld’s voice carefully. “The swelling is already going down.”
Felicity frowned, or she would have if the swelling of her face hadn’t prevented it. In the course of her career, she’d suffered the occasional injury and seen teammates get hurt. As a result, she’d spent a fair amount of time around doctors, and she knew that they never, ever cut to the chase.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“In addition to the fog, you were exposed to another weapon,” began Leliefeld.
“Yeah, he spat on me.” There was a startled silence. “And?”
“They asked me to operate,” said the voice. Slowly, reluctantly, Leliefeld described what she had found and then, even more slowly and reluctantly, described what she had done to fix the problem.
“You put your Grafter slime inside me!” Felicity felt outrage and nausea. The injection she’d received from the graaf had been bad enough, but it had been sufficiently clinical that she could convince herself it was medicine or an inoculation. But Leliefeld had taken a part of her own body and transplanted — no, grafted! — it into Felicity’s eyes. It was disgusting. It was monstrous. Vague memories about the eyes being the windows to the soul floated in her mind. What does this mean? Will I see things the same way? Can she see through my eyes now? Will it affect my powers?
“It’s technology,” said Leliefeld in an unreasonably reasonable tone. “It’s natural.”
“Natural!”
“If you gave me thirteen months and a lot of slides, I could explain it to you,” said Leliefeld. “There is a scientific basis for it. Can you say as much for your powers?”
“I was born with this power!”
“Without Broederschap technology, you would be blind. Blind and maybe even dead.”
“I would have been blind because of Broederschap technology!” Clements barked back. “Your cousin spat that shit in my eyes. It’s all the same.”
“You don’t believe that, Felicity. Not anymore. And I don’t think you ever really did. After all, you’re a Pawn of the Checquy. A tool. You know as well as I do that the line between you and the monsters you fight is very thin. It’s the same for me.” Her words hung in the air between them. “Anyway, the swelling is going down, and the redness of your skin is fading.”
“But what’s going to happen?” asked Felicity. “How will this affect me?” Leliefeld explained the nature of the weapon that had attacked her eyes and what the transplanted vitreous humor was doing to it. Apart from its defensive capabilities, it didn’t appear to be doing much else.
“You’ll be able to take the bandages off your eyes in three days,” said Leliefeld, “and you’ll be able to see just fine, but you’ll have to keep taking the antirejection drugs for a year until the material is absorbed fully and becomes part of you.”
“Or what happens?”
“Rejection. Then death. Messy death. The one will follow the other inevitably.”
“So I’m going to be blind for three days?” asked Felicity weakly.
“About three days, yeah. They’re sending you to some Checquy hospital to recuperate until the bandages come off,” said Leliefeld. “I spoke with Rook Thomas to let her know that the surgery was successful. And so that she wouldn’t give the order for me to be killed.”
Again, thought Felicity guiltily.
“Rook Thomas made it very clear that she wanted you back on duty as soon as possible.”
“Seriously?”
“I’ll make sure there are some parfaits waiting at the hotel.”
Despite herself, Felicity smiled.
“Okay, well, three days with no sight, I can cope,” said Felicity. “Plus, I assume the reception was canceled, so I dodged that bullet.”
“Oh, no, the Rook also said she wants you to attend the reception. Apparently it was just postponed.”
“Of course it was.” Felicity sighed. “If the Checquy went around canceling events because of disasters, we’d never have any parties.”
“All right, now, don’t flinch or anything, I just want to check your vital signs.” Felicity heard movement and then felt a cool hand on her brow, by her eyes, at her neck. There was a sound of satisfaction from the Grafter girl, and then the hand was gone. “You’re looking good. Are you thirsty?”
“Yes.” She felt a cup put into her hands and sat up a little to sip at the cool water.
“They’ll run scans and follow-up tests later,” said Leliefeld. “But there are a lot of people to look after first. In fact, I have to go help them. Someone will come along in a bit to check on you. You should rest.” Felicity heard the other woman moving away, and the door of the office open.
“Leliefeld?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for saving me,” said Felicity.
“Yeah, you too,” said Odette.
*
The door opened again and Felicity cocked her head.
“We really should stop meeting when one of us is lying injured,” said a man’s voice, deep and familiar. She didn’t even have to use her Sight to see who it was.
“Chopra,” said Felicity, smiling. “You look good.”
“Yes, you too.”
Felicity hoped that her skin was still raw enough to conceal the blush she felt rising up.
“So, you just happened to be passing by?” she asked.
“Actually, I was called in. I had been on recovery leave until the Rookery could assign me to a new team. Lots of talk therapy, and physical therapy, and combat therapy. But luckily I was at home when the attack hit.”
“The fog didn’t reach your place?”
“No, I live in Clapham,” said Chopra. “The latest reports are suggesting that each manifestation covered an area of only about two square miles, though that’s quite enough. It’s been bloody bedlam out there.”
“Each manifestation?” repeated Felicity. “There’s been more than one?” She listened in horror as Chopra explained about the attacks around the country.
“It’s the biggest story in the world right now,” he finished.
“Any — any idea what it is?” she asked hesitantly. That he had used the word manifestation was telling. It was the term the Checquy used to refer to supernatural events. No suggestion that this was seen as a Grafter action.
“No, but the fact that it happened only in major cities is pretty upsetting,” said Chopra. “It’s difficult to see it as anything but deliberate. The Liars are probably going out of their minds trying to come up with an explanation, and the press is already throwing the T-word around. God knows what the actual terrorists in the world are thinking. They’re probably asking each other what the hell happened and who was responsible.”
“Hmm,” said Felicity.
“Anyway, how are you feeling?” asked Chopra. “I heard that you got caught up in the manifestation and had to receive some rather, ahem, unorthodox surgery.”
“Oh God, so everyone knows?” she asked dismally.
“Word gets around,” he said, “even in secret organizations. So now you’re a Grafter?” he asked cheerfully.
“Don’t even joke,” said Felicity. “I asked her if I got any new abilities, and she asked if not getting my eyes eaten away in my skull wasn’t enough.”
“That’s not a bad ability,” said Chopra.
“The Grafter materials will break down eventually, but it’s still creepy to think they’re in me.” She jumped a little when his hand slid into hers.
“No one will think any less of you, Felicity,” he said, and his grip tightened slightly. It really was a very nice hand.
*
The next three days passed agonizingly slowly.