The Flower That Bloomed Nowhere

Inner Sanctum Underground | 9:33 AM | ∞ Day

"What?" Hildris and Tuthal said with comedic concurrence.

"I was electing to see how the situation would play out, but now that Kasua's said as much, there's no point in dragging things out," Summiri told them with a shrug. "Having known him, there's no doubt that this man is most definitely not Noah of Tell-Rayf. He bears more than a passing resemblance to him, to be sure, but the disguise is imperfect."

"You're fucking kidding me," Tuthal exclaimed. "How is that even possible? Why would there actually be two people pretending to be the same man on this bloody train?"

Noah continued to react to this developing situation with more calm than one might have expected, although I thought I saw a hint of surprise cross his brow for a moment. He looked to Summiri, scratching the side of his head. "No offense, miss, but when would we even have met? My working relationship with Rastag probably played out before you were even born."

"Oh, right, he doesn't know," Hildris muttered. Bahram twitched strangely, looking up for the first time in a while. It was getting eerie how long he'd been like this. (Why was he having such an extreme reaction? I could understand him taking offense, but this...)

"I will admit we've never met in person, strictly speaking," Summiri conceded. "But I have seen photographs of your face. You are not the same man."

"He never photographed me. Hell, we barely had photographs back then. It was right after the Strife-- We were lucky to eat." He looked towards the others. "What's up with this girl?"

"She thinks she's Rastag," Hildris explained.

The alleged detective shook his head. "I'm not even gonna ask."

Tuthal's brow squinted with suspicion. He looked towards 'Noah', then towards both Summiri and myself, then back at him. "Obviously the girl is bonkers, but Rastag has been a photography fanatic for as long as I've known him. There's a reason I barely balked about that nonsense with Kasua's mother." He narrowed his eyes. "If there's anyone on God's green earth who'd use what little money he could scrape together to buy a camera, it'd be him. And now that they're both saying it, there is something peculiar about him. His voice sounds different. More... aloof."

Hildris looked at him. "You really think so? It seems about the same to me."

"Trust me, Hild," Tuthal told her. Now he was using nicknames. "I have an ear for these things. One needs to in order to do business."

"Come on," the detective said. "Don't you think this is ridiculous? I've been with you all the whole night. I'll prove it. Ask me anything."

"What did we have for dinner?" Hildris asked.

"It was five courses," he answered, which in case you've forgotten was correct. "The cheese balls, the seafood soup, the goose pate, the salad, and the cardamom cake." This was also mostly correct.

"That doesn't prove anything. You could have just seen the menu." Tuthal crossed his arms. "What happened at the drawing?"

"You won, but they drew your name twice, and Phaidime's name was missing. You agreed you'd give her something." He glanced upwards. "Pretty suspicious in retrospect now that she's apparently kicked the bucket."

Tuthal clicked his tongue. "This is all too vague. You could have just been told this." He furrowed his brow for a few moments in thought, and then finally produced a question. "What did you ask Bahram in the back car, right after we got done dealing with that rabble? When you interrupted our conversation like a freak?"

"It was something about the monster, wasn't it? Another thing that's relevant now."

(And another clue I should have noticed, this one even more obvious.)

"And what did Bahram say in response? In exact words."

He shrugged. "How should I know? Just because I'm a detective doesn't mean I have a photographic memory, y'know." He raised an eyebrow. "Do you remember?"

Tuthal opened his mouth, hesitated, frowned, and turned towards Bahram. "Bahram, you recall what you said then, don't you?"

This entire exchange felt pointless. As soon as Summiri had indicated she was an ally, I already saw a path to victory. All I needed now was to navigate the situation such that she'd be able to open her door without Eirene completely losing patience at the increasing absurdity of the situation. The best way to do that was probably to be honest.

However, this conclusion turned out to be slightly premature, because the next thing she said was--

"I fear I'm starting to get a sense of what might be going on here," she said, holding a finger to her chin. "We may not be beset by a single Uqartul, but two or more. They're solitary according to most accounts, but it's not unheard of them to form packs in times of scarcity. Perhaps the intrusion of the railway has stirred them up." She looked about. "They may well have devoured this room and the detective, and be impersonating them both imperfectly."

Tuthal balked, then raised his voice. "Oh, fuck off! Was what you just said only building to that?! Waste of my bloody time! Fuck off!"

Hildris rubbed her brow, and Eirene looked like she was about ready to snap. I couldn't let this derail the conversation.

"I think the rooms move," I explained quickly, before anyone could cut me off. "There's a missing space between the third and the fourth. I think that's empty, and each individual bedroom and bathroom can shift to the left or right accordingly." I took a breath, pointing as I explained. "I think that someone has moved Tuthal, Summiri, and my room to the right to fill the gap. That's why they were able to clear the body and all the blood up so fast-- Because we're actually looking at Summiri's room right now."

Everyone looked baffled. "W..." This time, Tuthal failed to even vocalize his objection.

"It's easy enough to prove," I continued. "Summiri, go and open your door. If it leads to your room, then I'm wrong and your theory about the monster must be the truth. But if there's nothing there, then that means I'm correct."

"You've all turned psychotic," Eirene stated bluntly. "I can't even keep track of the different tricks you could all be trying to pull. We're done. We're not checking any rooms."

"It'll be simple," I insisted. "It's on the way out."

"K-Kasua, I'm sorry, what are you saying, exactly?" Hildris asked. "Why would the rooms move?"

She was asking me to expand this collection of hunches into an actual theory, something I felt woefully unprepared to do, but attempted anyway. "Someone - the culprit, presumably - wants to make us think the detective is alive, so this man can... I don't know, blend into our ranks, pick us off. Or they planned to hide my body this way, but either didn't know I was the one who survived, or realized but are playing it by ear. Although that wouldn't explain why there's a lookalike of the man on the train, unless there was some other trick they had in mind too." I hesitated. "Either way, the train must have been designed by Rastag with some mechanism to enable this from the start."

Hildris looked to Summiri, who was silent for a few moments, then shrugged.

"I certainly don't recall doing such a thing," she stated. "...but, as I mentioned, my memories do stop several years short of my other self's untimely death. After that, it's not impossible something might have happened."

"What, you're abandoning your crackpot theory already?" Tuthal scoffed.

"I'm open-minded, Tuth. As I've always told you: That's what matters more than any conviction in particular."

The man shook his head, then frowned in thought. "I want to say this is just as mad, but I did hear a strange sound coming from the bedrooms on my way back from the vault-- You remember, Hild, you were there too."

She nodded. "The sort of... groaning, yes."

"That clinches it, then," I said (failing to draw, yet again, a particular conclusion from this). "This must be how it works."

"But hang on, the Last Winter is in there." Tuthal pointed. "How would that have happened?"

"That's easy," I said. "They could have simply moved it when we were all out of the carriage inspecting the roof. Compared to cleaning the entire room, that would take... I don't know, a minute at most." Maybe the painting itself was protected by one of those little glass layers that are always in the frames in museums. Yeah, that's probably it. "Or it's a fake. If they were planning to conceal my body, they might have been prepared for the possibility I would have taken the painting. Or maybe it was because I took it that he-- That he tried to kill me. That it was for money."

"Didn't you say he was waiting for you when you arrived?" Hildris asked.

"I... yes, that's true." I rubbed my eyes. "I can't know exactly what the plan was or how it happened, but I'm sure this is the gist. There's no other way it could have happened. I doubt the illusion would even hold if we took a closer look at the room; he was probably hoping to plant more evidence that it was, which is why he was so eager to volunteer."

Tuthal looked towards the not-detective. "What do you have to say for yourself, man?"

"Hey, I don't have a damn clue what to do with any of this," he said, throwing his hands in the air. "Like I said, from my perspective, I just woke up not even ten minutes ago. I only offered to take a look around the room because you were all at such an impasse about it and seemed to think I was suspicious already. Now I almost wish I hadn't said anything."

I cut back to the chase. "We just need to check Summiri's room. It'll confirm everything."

The woman in question shrugged. "I've no objections."

"I told you, we're leaving!" Eirene demanded. "You trying to push this so hard is even more suspicious!"

Maybe I wouldn't have felt this way if there was a chance she would actually shoot me dead, but Eirene's threats were beginning to feel a little toothless. She'd let us linger in this carriage for a while now, and it didn't feel like anything was going to happen. "It'll just take a moment. If I'm wrong, you can shoot me."

I started to walk the three-or-so meters to Summiri's door, and nobody stopped me. The girl/old man/eerie caricature of my own worst regrets followed along cautiously but obediently, then reached into her pocket and stuck her key into the lock. She jolted it around a bit, then frowned.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"I can't get it open," she said.

"It's locked?" I asked. I realized a possibility - did parts of the door, lock included, somehow move too? (How would that even work?)

"No, that's not it," she answered, quickly negating my suspicions. "It feels like someone's jammed something in." She lowered her head. "I can't get a good look at it."

"Bloody hell--" Tuthal turned suddenly in the opposite direction, frustrated. "I'll open the door to my room then. The actual body should be there, so it'll put the matter decisively to rest."

After this, several things happened in rapid sequence. First of all, made anxious by the sudden splitting of the group Eirene backed away from doorways and towards the window, raising her pistol to a higher position with both hands. Tuthal withdrew his own key as he approached the door, but suddenly - moving much swifter than one would imagine a man of his somewhat-portly build being capable of - the replacement detective leapt on him. Eirene, hesitating for less than a second, pointed the gun and shot him squarely above the ass, causing him to scream and myself to let out a little yelp, while Summiri dropped her own key in surprise and lurched back. Despite his wound, Foah quickly shoved Tuthal aside, unlocking it himself and jumping into the space beyond, the door slamming shut behind him just a second bullet struck the blood-stained frame.

"STOP HIM!" Eirene shouted, once again demonstrating her impressive lung capacity.

Tuthal grabbed at and twisted the door handle, but only cursed under his breath. "It's locked! He's already fucking-- God damn it--"

"Shoot the lock!" Hildris commanded.

Eirene didn't hesitate. She stepped forward, levelled the pistol, and fired, the bullet passing no more than a foot away from Tuthal's arm and making him yelp to boot. The wood of the lock splintered and cracked.

Then, raising it once more, she charged through. I couldn't see the interior, but I heard her shout, "What the fuck?!" so she'd probably found the body.

But before I could confirm this, there was a cry from the opposite direction. I turned my head sharply, and saw that - briefly left unattended - Bahram had wasted zero time in going for Summiri once again. But this time his intent wasn't as instantly murderous-- Instead of tackling her to ground, he'd simply edged in on her, his arms going against the wall to block her way, his eyes looking down both menacingly and pleadingly at the same time.

Hildris locked eyes with me-- The demand was implicit. She rushed toward Bahram, trying to drag him away, and I went too, though kept glancing towards the door to Tuthal's room, where the man himself - after turning in our direction at the unfolding crisis - made a pained expression before leaning in after Eirene. Hildris grabbed at Bahram's chest while I went for one of his arms, but he was surprisingly strong, or maybe being this short had thrown off my ability to throw my weight around in a way the body couldn't compensate for. He thrust me aside almost effortlessly and ignored Hildris altogether.

"Tell me," he demanded of Summiri. "If you're really him. Tell me what I did for you and Mariya back then, 150 years ago."

Summiri exhaled uncomfortably. "Bahram, this is hardly the time--"

"You don't know!" the older man declared. "You don't know, because you're lying! Rastag is dead!"

"I'm not denying it! I told you, we're only even the same person from a certain perspective!"

"No," he hissed. "You're not just-- It's not just that, you're lying. I know, she confessed the truth to me, I know--"

"Help!" I heard Eirene shout. "He's got a gun!"

Everyone except Bahram turned sharply in the direction of the door to Tuthal's room, but because I was the only one not physically part of the tussle, I ended up having a head start. (Later, I would both wonder what would have happened if I hadn't - just how much were the people running the game in control of, in a moment like this, practiced over thousands of years? - as well as finding the result objectively hilarious.) Right as I approached the door, there was a bang from inside, and then another, and then yet another as I threw it open.

It would be an understatement to say that the sight which greeted me was not what I expected. Firstly, this was, contrary to my every expectation, obviously not the room containing the real detective's body after all. In fact, there were no signs to suggest it was even mine-- The Last Winter wasn't present, and neither was my luggage. It was just someone else's room.

But this was not what drew my attention. Rather, that was the corpses.

On the floor, three bodies were slumped: The false detective face down by the desk, Tuthal against the side of the bed, and Eirene adjacent to the bathroom door. All of them appeared to have been shot in the head, and the detective and Eirene both had pistols in their hands. The window, which only opened from the inside, was closed. The door to the bathroom - which a few moments later would turn out to be completely empty - was closed. I was standing in the only way in or out.

In other words: It was, if more by virtue of time than a physical impediment, a perfect locked room.

I looked down at my feet. There was a third pistol lying there.

Actually, I might have laughed a little at the time, too.

𒊹

8:06 PM | The Ninsirsir, Deck 3 | December 31st | 1608 COVENANT

Lamu wished with all her heart that she was a more reckless person. If she was, she would surely have disobeyed Nhi's instructions, thrown caution to the wind, and charged to the top deck of the ship to get her answers one way or another. Her uncle cut an imposing figure-- Even if she missed him, if he really had been there (despite the fact that this was impossible), it would be unthinkable that people wouldn't have noticed. Just a couple conversations would be enough to cut to the truth of the matter.

But instead she guarded and cautious, so instead she remained with her ass dutifully glued to the seat. Unable to take her mind off it and focus on her former classmate, who might actually be dangerous.

The main course consisted of large pieces of meat so rare that you could almost believe they were taken from a real animal (though that taboo had survived even the degeneration of the era, so it wasn't particularly likely). There was so little of anything else that she wondered why they'd even bothered giving a choice between rice and potatoes. Lamu did not particularly care for rare meat, but supposed it mattered little since even her favorite foods would taste foul under these conditions.

Gudrun remained blissfully ignorant, licking her lips in anticipation as the waiter told them to enjoy and departed, while Malko looked indifferent as usual. "Honestly, you'd think they could manage something a little more sophisticated," he muttered. "I know beef is traditional, but..."

"Come on, Mal," Theo said as he raised his knife and fork. "You're just complaining for its own sake at this point."

Malko shrugged, as if to say 'isn't that the point'? But began eating.

Gudrun smiled radiantly after taking her first bite. "Mm, this is great! It was such a hassle to get here I haven't had anything to eat since breakfast." Presumably she didn't consider the snacks she'd eaten in their room to count.

"Oh gods above, don't even remind me," Malko muttered in between bites. "Our shuttle was so late it might as well have been scheduled for a different day altogether. And the foot traffic in Konkhulion nowadays, absolutely grotesque. Even the accelerated route left me feeling like a rat in a maze."

"Accelerated route?" Gudrun raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"You don't know? The station has an elevator service that can ferry you straight to your gate if you confirm your paperwork in advance and pay a modest fee. I know, Irencans actually taking your credits-- Unthinkable." He sighed. "I don't know why they started holding this damn thing on a ship at all."

Gudrun looked puzzled. "I thought it was always that way. Like, it was 'cause that one guy owned it."

"No, no," Malko corrected, holding up a hand. "Tar-Isgansar's always hosted it, but it used to be at one of his private residences in, well, normal places. Old Yru at first, and then in Qatt once, well-- It's a dull story, but he did this interview that the new regime took rather personally, as they've proven wont to do, and they made the affair more trouble than it was worth. But about, I don't know... how long ago was it, Theo?"

"When it moved? This will be the twelfth year, I think." He was not-very-subtly scrutinizing Lamu with every other bite he took at this point. He definitely knew.

"That sounds right," Malko said with a nod. "But twelve years ago, after it became clear the war wasn't ending any time soon, he and his whole clique decided to rebrand themselves as some kind of internationalist humanitarian movement. Rebuilding a platform for another political run, presumably; terminal third-wayist brain rot. And part of that was inviting high-profile independent figures from the Triumvirate, and, well, I hardly need to tell you that the avenues through which to do that on the Mimikos are somewhat limited." He sipped from his wine. "So he teamed up with this group called the Laodike Foundation - you probably heard them mentioned earlier - and they sold him the ship. Well, sort of sold it. It's technically an indefinite lease with conditions. That's why they're still involved."

For the first time in the entire night, Gudrun asked a useful question. "Who are these guys, anyway? The 'Laodike Foundation'?"

Malko shrugged. "Some combination heritage, charity and asset-squatting outfit. Probably a poorly-disguised special interest group." He clicked his tongue. "I'm not sure what exactly Isgansar's relationship with them is, actually. Whether it's just for this arrangement or they have some deeper relationship. I suppose they'd have to, otherwise he would have bought a larger ship instead of this ragged old thing."

"Isn't it, like, super prestigious, though. I thought it was supposed to be the Grand Alliance's first ever flagship."

Malko snorted. "It is prestigious, but not quite as much as it sounds. The ship was actually only in service for a few years in the late 1300s-- They had the bad luck of commissioning it right before the miniaturization of the convention furnace, so it was rendered pitifully obsolete within a decade. Never even flew outside of a few ceremonial events. The military was desperate to recoup the costs - it wasn't like it had any historical value back then, after all - so they stripped the weapons out and sold it off before the bronze was even cold. Ended up being passed around like the village bicycle." He smirked, then leaned forward. "You like baseless gossip, Gudrun?"

"Love it," she answered without a moment's hesitation.

"Apparently, one of the early owners left something absolutely depraved in the lower decks of the ship," he told her. "Something that's too much trouble to remove even now. That's why they won't let anyone down there, not even the crew." He leaned even closer, clearly enjoying himself. "There was a man I knew who got very drunk one night and managed to stumble in by accident, and they made a titanic fuss swearing him to secrecy. Ended up getting lawyers involved. He wasn't even allowed back to the event."

Gudrun looked at him curiously. "Did he ever let anything slip?"

"Nothing specific, sadly," he said. "Just that it was bigger than he expected, and the whole place stunk unspeakably. I'd love to get a look myself."

They ate their meals. Lamu made as best an effort she could, constantly preoccupied scanning not just for threats, but for the men Nhi had told her to expect, who even though she rationally knew weren't to arrive for several more minutes felt tortuously delayed. The stress was getting to her, and herself almost going for the wine several times before reminding herself of the severity of the situation.

Meanwhile, Theo continued to shoot her odd looks constantly. When they were winding down - or rather, when Gudrun had finished, having vored her steak at the pace of a wolf while everyone else was only half-done, he awkwardly cleared his throat.

"...y-you know, er," he began. "It's rare that we hit it off with people at this event, isn't it, Mal?"

"Mm?" His partner looked slightly confused, though it was difficult to discern whether this was disagreement or confusion at him saying something blatantly out of character. "I suppose so."

"Why don't we," he paused inorganically, "trade logic addresses."

Gudrun was in the middle of chewing when he said this, but as soon as he finished the muscles in her throat relaxed frighteningly suddenly, such that instead of wasting time swallowing the food she simply rolled it down into her stomach, like a serpent. "Yeah for sure that sounds great," she said with static intonation. "It's been really cool to meet you guys lemme just get my logic engine real quick." It appeared in her hand.

"E-Er, right." Theodoros was obviously terrified, but steeled himself. "He looked to the left. "Would you like to as well, Lamu?"

"...okay," she said, with a slow nod. Yes, this was probably the best way to handle this, even if that performance was terrible. "Sure."

Malko looked utterly baffled by this chain of events, but succumbed to peer pressure. "Sure," he said, throwing his hands into the air. "Why not."

They exchanged the numbers and put their logic engines away, but as Lamu did so Theo subtly rose a finger to his lips and tapped at his, obviously indicating that he wanted her to deactivate the alert on hers. She did so and, while staying attuned to it as she finished her meal, soon received a call.

Lamu paused for a moment to think. How would she handle this situation? How much did Theo need to know? Obviously that Utsushikome had threatened her and that the others were here were no-brainers, but her personal situation was only tangentially relevant, and confessing the truth would grant him a lot of power over her-- So obviously it was out of the question.

But obviously, she wasn't supposed to be here, and Theo was doubtlessly going to ask questions about her false identity. If she didn't provide a good excuse and he went around babbling, it could create immense problems. Nhi's protection surely only went so far. Her details were all in the Censors databanks; if any real scrutiny fell on her, there were probably people on this ship who could legally place her under arrest.

All this was also complicated by what had happened at the conclave too, of course, but in that sense she could at least play the fool to an extent, even if less than he could. And... he probably didn't know any details about her current life. And Theo had always struck her as rather credulous and sentimental. Even a fairly outrageous lie would probably be accepted by him so long as she delivered it with confidence and an appeal to emotion.

She quickly formulated a story. The attention she'd received in the press after the collapse of the Order and her mother's treatment of her had scarred her. She'd had a breakdown and been institutionalized for years. Slowly, she'd rebuilt her life under a new identity, cut ties. She didn't want to think about any of that stuff any more, which is why she hadn't mentioned who she was up until this point. She'd appreciate it if he'd keep all this to himself.

Yeah, that worked.

Lamu accepted the call. "Hello," she said.

"Let's just get right to the point," he replied, more ruthlessly than she'd expected. "I've figured out who you are."

"That's what I thought," Lamu replied.

"You're the one who's here to kill me, aren't you?"