Closed Unexpected Business (Valerius, Inodar)

[Amolina]

~ Amolina Moletta ~ ~ 25 th day of Fall 513 AV ~ This thread is a sequel to the plots in two other threads:A Suitable Place for Secret Science and Getaway Amolina Moletta was putting on lots of makeup – it was unusually much, even for her. Focusing on her mirror image she started by putting one layer of very pale paint over the big ugly bruise Parnell’s delirious punch had left on the left cheekbone. She spread the paint slowly and carefully over her skin with her fingertips , making sure to cover the whole discolored area of her face. After this it looked a bit better, but only a bit. She sighed and proceeded with yet another thin layer of paint over the first one, repetating the procedure. The bruise was now somewhat better covered, but she decided to paint a third layer. The bruise was pretty well concealed now, but at the moment it looked like she was wearing a pale mask that covered only half her face. And she recalled somebody…this masklike paleness of the painted part of her face reminded her of the fortune teller she had met in the Nitrozian Plaza in summer, a girl that had done a reading in cards for her in order to find out things about the future.The Happy Ever After. Amolina had been fascinated by the palefaced young woman, and the similarities in hair color and height had triggered her interest as a performer…she had wanted to impersonate the girl, take on the same way of speaking, the same way of moving, the same ever pleasant smiling mask of a face. Dress in another woman’s looks and behavior, take on the surface of her identity … it had seemed to Amolina that this would be an interesting piece of performance art. Art or Science, Science or Art. Amolina wanted both. She had promised Valerius Nitrozian to put in all effort she had time for in the research project. But Amolina was still a performer too, and albeit she had not been so successful her dreams were still alive. And now it struck her: the time for impersonation had come. She would make an art installation of the necessity to cover the bruise. It felt like this transformed everything and turned this prosaic normal day in Ravok into an intriguing adventure. She continued to paint her face, now deliberately striving for the perfect, smooth and very pale porcelain doll looks of the fortune teller. Pale spotless skin, red mouth, black eyelashes. The likeness was not total, it wasn’t like she looked just like the fortune teller. Amolina’s hair was dark brown and not raven black and she had put it up in the plain and strict no nonsense way she used when she was working with Valerius. She was wearing her usual dark violet gown. But the style was the same, she had taken on the mask of somebody else and was going to act, subtly mimicking the other woman’s behavior as she had observed it that day in the café. Prepared like this she left the NHC apartment and went to attend the business meeting with Valerius Nitrozian and Nolan Parnell. She felt sure the two of them would have lots of things to say, the way they always did. And now they would perhaps speak even more than they normally did - Amolina might have promised things on Nolan Parnell’s behalf without asking him, and she had not found it important to tell him every detail when she made him agree to at least meet Valerius. They would speak a lot…And Amolina – Amolina Moletta would simply be very pleasant indeed. It amused her. It amused her to no end.

[Inoadar]

When Amolina told him that they would be meeting at the Nitrozian Estate, Inoadar was hard pressed not to betray his eagerness. He knew that Amolina was completely unaware of this, but that had been the site of an assassination attempt that he had played a visible part in thwarting. But he had no idea if the Nitrozians were aware of this.

He'd never returned to see if he would get any sort of heroes welcome, but now he would have a perfect opportunity to see if he would enjoy any sort of prestigious status with Ravok's First Family. Naturally, it would be the height of unbecoming boorishness to broach the subject himself. Likewise, it would be glaringly transparent for him to manufacture some reason to show up, in the hopes that eyes would turn and impressed whispers would follow.

But now, he had been asked to attend. He could play the part of the valorous, but humble, man of action, returning to the scene of courageous deeds, and having no intent whatsoever to seek fanfare for something 'ANY loyal citizen would have done.'

But there was as much a danger of coming off as overly modest as well. Then it would seem as though he was trying to coax others to speak of his daring with repeated displays of embarrassed denials. No, he would expect no recognition, he would volunteer no prompts for such conversation, and, if they came up, he would accept due praise and nothing more.

Still, a new suit of clothes was in order. He went by Azure Reflections, the high-end tailoring shop, to get something appropriate to his station. It was important to come off as dressed confidently to the height of his social tier, without the presumption of over-stepping his status. Though he had a considerably hidden side to his life, his station was not above simple shopkeeper. Respectable, but hardly boast-worthy.

So he overpaid on matching black dyed, polished leather gloves, shoes and belt, complete with buckles where appropriate. Likewise a white silk shirt and a three-piece suit of superfine wool, dyed a reserved, understated dark blue. The style did not presume upon current trends, but fell back on tradition.

Not only did his 50 gold mizas more than cover an honest tip, it ensured Alira Wickham's personal assessment, from her socialite point of view, that this was the right attire for a citizen of modest station, who is nonetheless confident of his ability to impress.

There was no time for a tailor fitting, but Inoadar was a slim man in good shape and the suit fit him as though it HAD been. Of course, his bruises and lacerations from his recent escapade with Amolina were frequently aggravated by the snug fit, but he would live with that.

He went to the gate, awaiting the guard's leisure, as was proper. The guard approached, staying just out of arm's reach beyond. "May I help you sir?"

"Yes, 'Goodman'," Inoadar responded naturally, using an uncommon, but complementary honorific extended to praise-worthy servants, "I have been asked to attend a meeting with Mr. Valerius Nitrozian inside the estate, and request that you inform him of my arrival. I am Mr. Nolan Parnell. He will know my business."

Inoadar made no mention of Amolina. It would seem like grasping for legitimacy to go dropping names of other attendees. The guard instructed him to wait while he confirmed the appointment. Inoadar simply nodded in acknowledgement of standard protocol and waited.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

The guards had been informed that Master Valerius would be receiving guests that day, and thus Mr. Parnell was immediately taken to a room on the first floor, the room that the Nitrozian usually used for business meetings. It was a sitting room, decorated with fine carpets and tapestries that depicted scenes of Ravokian life. At the right wall there was a marble fireplace that filled the room with warmth. A table made of elegant dark wood, three arm chairs and a couch stood in front of it. At the opposite wall stood several bookshelves with old books. Most of them belonged to Valerius‘ grandfather, Sitanos, the head of the family. Valerius was already waiting there, in front of the fireplace. He was dressed in a similar fashion as Inoadar, in an elegant dark suit and a white silk shirt. As the guard knocked, entered the room and announced that the first of his guests arrived, he rose to his feet. He noticed the way Mister Parnell was dressed and nodded approvingly. There were far too many people in Ravok that had no fashion sense these days. If this first impression was anything to go by, this meeting would go very well. „Good day, Mister Parnell“, he greeted him and gestured for him to take a seat. „Welcome to the Nitrozian Estate. We will start discussing our possible collaboration as soon as Miss Moletta arrives. Shall I have one of the slaves serve tea while we are waiting?“ ~~~~~ Amolina was likewise immediately taken to the room where Valerius was waiting. Again, the guard knocked and opened the door once Valerius had given him permission to do so. As Valerius noticed who was standing on the treshold, his eyes widened a little. „Miss … Cross?“ he asked. The woman he was looking at greatly resembled Amelia Cross who he had met in the Temple of the Black Sun and shared tea with at Yae Varone’s. „No, that can’t be.“ He shook his head. „Forgive me, Miss … Moletta? I had not noticed how much you resemble an acquaintance of mine before. Are you by chance related to Amelia Cross?“

[Amolina]

Amolina stopped on the threshold when Valerius greeted her in such an interesting and intriguing way. Keeping up the fortune teller's expression of an invisible but ever-present smile, she watched the expensive looking meeting room and the two businesslike men in their dark suits and white shirts. Valerius Nitrozian was stunningly well dressed as always, but to her surprise Nolan Parnell managed to look quite elegant and businesslike too. Actually quite... A mathing pair. “Good day Mr Nitrozian” she answered Valerius. “And Mr Parnell” she added politely. Her hair was dark as bitter chocolate, her meticulously well-painted face was pale as cream, and her mouth was red as a cherry. Despite not smiling her face seem to smile obligingly, when she more fluttered than stepped into the room, in the smooth and extraordinarily graceful way she recalled the fortune teller had moved. She was intrigued and exited by Valerius interesting reaction to the impersonation project. The unknown name he had mentioned echoed in her mind – this was delicious – simply delicious – as it seemed like Valerius was aquainted with somebody that he had mistaken her for. The impersonation was already catching its unknowing audience... Amelia…Amelia Cross ? Was this the fortune teller? Or was it someone else, perhaps a third woman ? The whole idea spoke to Amolina’s performer heart and mind, and a mysterious and alluring feeling of art surpassing reality soared in her. She had been wondering, how would it be, to put the mask of somebody else on her face, mimic the part of the other’s personality that was visible to others, her expressions, way of moving, voice and speech. This wasn’t like when she acted in a play where she could mould the role after her own ideas, no, the opposite, this was about moulding herself after the surface of a real person and become a look alike. But she had no idea what Valerius thought about this Amelia Cross, how well he knew her, or what the woman was to him. And Amolina wasn’t claiming to be related to people she didn’t know anything about. It was best to give an answer that didn’t confirm or reveal anything in particular. “Chance gives us so many different connections and possibilities. But albeit there may be likeness between people, this doesn’t always means they are related” she murmured softly in the very vague, mild, way of speaking the fortune teller had spoken to her. She went to stand at Valerius side like he had asked her to do it. “Then again, who can tell what fortune will bring us? Once I was told I ought to keep my enemies closer than my friends, because friends would indulge me and let me get away with being lazy, while competitors would keep me constantly on my toes. I didn’t agree, as I find one true friend worth more than an army of foes. But who can tell what the truth is ? Perhaps it’s wrong of me to hold my friends close? ” The fortune teller had said things like that. It came in handy now. Amolina's face smiled without smiling, but her eyes gIeamed with secret amusement when she delivered this elaborate and completely vague piece of social small-talk, sweetly, softly, pleasantly. “Shall we talk business?”

[Inoadar]

Inoadar had no idea if Valerius was truly captivated by Amolina's display of exotic cosmetics, stylish attire and mysterious allusions to fatalistic beliefs. But he was not going to ruin the moment for her. She must have some purpose in mind. Also, he suspected the face paint was serving to cover the nasty bruise on her face.

He was still unaware that it had been himself that had inflicted it on her. He still figured it had been part of some arrangement, some cover story. And he had no doubt that this genteel-looking aristocrat before him was perfectly capable of violence, if it served some purpose. He was a Nitrozian, after all, and they were the wealthiest and most prestigious family in Ravok. A family does not achieve such status without having long since come to terms with the necessity of occasional acts of deception and brutality.

He'd been asleep at the time, or rather, delirious and thrashing in torments of past visions best forgotten. He'd been a mess when he'd finally found his reality again. Beaten, poisoned and exhausted, he'd been shocked to find himself alive. Even more so to find that Amolina was the one had watched over him. The debilitated body of a hateful antagonist, in a location where the disposal of his troublesome corpse would have been a simple matter of a nudge into the canal.

gurgle, gurgle...gone...so easy, so final, so free.

But what was done was done, and what was not, was not. He could only assume that, like Rhysol himself, she had seen the potential in one who had brought her, up to that point, nothing but trouble. Or maybe it was this man here, this Valerius, that had requested she stay her hand from ridding the world of Inoadar, or rather, Nolan Parnell, as she knew him.

His body was still sore and weak to a painful degree, the tucks and pleats of the suit, as well as the bandages themselves, digging into to tender new lacerations and bruises. But he could deal with that. He was not about to show this Nitrozian any cause to second-guess his decision to bring him into whatever proposition was about to be placed on the table. If anything, the indication Amolina had given him, that she had informed her "powerful friend" that he had been in need of help in the boathouse, would stand in his favor now that he, only days later, showed no sign of discomfort.

There was a round of small talk, Inoadar admitting that as a crafter in the field of chemicals, his attire was more commonly aprons and smocks, but he was certainly not going to pollute the grandeur of this mansion with the presence of a grubby laborer, when a modest sum would alleviate such an embarrassment. He wanted to present himself as someone who understood that image was of great importance, but was not trying to pass himself off as some sort of big spender himself, a facade that a worldly gent like Valerius would see right through. He knew his place, and embraced the propriety of remaining within it, while nonetheless pushing it to its accepted limit.

As such, he waited until the subject of their meeting was broached by "Mr. Nitrozian". To ask why he had been invited here would be impatient and rude, regardless of how he worded it. He was not, in fact, even sure if there was a protocol in place for how he should address the young man. Was HE "Mr." Nitrozian? or was that the patriarch, Sitanos? He did not know if these highly placed bloodlines attached titles to themselves, or, if so, what this young man would expect.

He decided "sir" would have to do. At least until the man instructed him to call him something less deferential. It was not that Inoadar was ill at ease in the presence of Valerius. He had considered all aspects of how he should comport himself for this interview, and every word and action was well considered before he committed to it.

His only true distraction was that he now recognized the man from the disastrous party at this estate last spring. Where cowards had conspired to attack the grand old man, Sitanos himself. He had known going in that this would be familiar ground in that respect, but he had not expected to see this same young man, though, in retrospect, there was no reason why Valerius should not have been here then.

He thought briefly of asking after the health of Sitanos, but decided against it. He didn't want to appear that he was trying to turn the subject to an event where he might gain self-serving recognition. Such a tactic might be considered shrewd by the young Nitrozian if the recognition brought prestige at the expense of a rival. But in this situation, such a question would actually seem an attempt to lower the family's standing in his eyes.

No, for now he would continue to laugh at the jokes, agree with assessments of which cultural and social endeavors were worthy and which were a disgrace, which brandy was best, which industrialists provided the finest wares, and all the other trappings of the aristocracy. When he did not know, he admitted it. Valerius knew he was not a socialite. To pretend he was would be ridiculous. He would surely put himself in an humiliating corner over some opinion he was not truly informed enough to venture.

He continued to bide his time, enjoying the comforts extended to him and waiting for either Amolina or Valerius to get down to business.

[Valerius Nitrozian]

„So mysterious, Miss Moletta“, Valerius remarked as he heard Amolina’s reply. „It seems as if you have a certain talent for acting after all.“ She would probably recall that he had insulted her when they had first met and called her a bad actress. „What am I to you then? A competitor? A friend? Or part of your army of foes? Humor me please and answer this question, Miss Moletta.“ While he waited for her answer, he gestured for her to take a seat in front of the fireplace. „We shall“, he replied. „Since you have invited Mister Parnell to be part of our business, would you like to start?“ He looked at his other visitor and bade him to take a seat as well. While Amolina had decided to be all mysterious and make small talk, Mister Parnell had been strangely quiet so far. Valerius could not help but wonder what he was thinking about. Had Amolina informed him of the nature of their business? Had she told him that they were not really concerned with the sanitary situation in Ravok, with the health of its citizens, but used it as a cover for conducting medical experiments? Was he having second thoughts? Did he have hidden motives? The look on his face darkened for a moment, but then he smiled politely at his guest again and decided to adress him directly rather than waiting for Amolina to explain why he was here. „Or perhaps you, Mister Parnell, would like to tell me a bit more about yourself and what you can offer to Miss Moletta and me. I’m afraid that, while I was informed that you would be coming and that you could be useful, I wasn’t told much about you personally.“

[Amolina]

Amolina felt her resolution waver when she heard Valerius’ comment on her talent for acting. She remembered very well how he had called her a bad actress and dismissed her attempts to hug his knees and shiny boots and beg for mercy in a most dramatic way. The remark also made her recall how he had shoved her away quite violently. But she kept the smiling yet not smiling expression on her face and while she took a seat in front of the fireplace, spreading the skirt of her dress out around her, arranging it artfully. Her movements were the fortune teller’s movements, measured, graceful and coquettish. And once again she was inspired by her mystical role model’s way of speaking and answered him with natural ease, in a very soft, soft, soft voice. “You are asking me what you are to me. But would it not be both presumptuous and rude of me to assume things about other people when every person is in fact a secret enigma ? Just like I can see the glittering surface of Lake Ravok, but not the depths beneath, I can only see what’s on the surface of people, the things they choose to let me know - or make me believe.“ This continued silently, in her thoughts, with a glance at Parnell : Or what somebody shows me when he’s out of his mind and out of control. When somebody fakes attraction and calls me sweetheart, sweetie, doll then proceeds to go delirious and try to crush my face and finally tops it off by crying on me helplessly and calling me mother. “What else is ever possible to know about other people, than the things they choose to let us know, Mr Nitrozian? You, and only you, can tell me what you really are to me. But it would not be polite of me to deny you my opinion : right now, to me, you are a man that decided to grant me the honor of openly associating your name with mine, in our project.” At this point she smiled sweetly and pleasantly, just like the fortune teller had been smiling when she really smiled. And then her face went back to it’s obliging and seeming-to-smile standard expression again. “But yes, you are right, let’s speak business now. Well, Mr Parnell, as I told you when I asked you to come here, the sanitary station is a Nitrozian social responsibility project that aims to support the health of the citizens in Ravok by preventing diseases to spread. That is the purpose. A social welfare project launched by Mr Nitrozian here.” She smiled sweetly and briefly at the poison maker. This was really all he needed to know. Parnell sat there like a very good guy, looking like a dapper and well-groomed businessman on top of his social tier, seeming very self-assured but at same time becomingly humble. So nice, so obliging, so…good. It occurred to her that Parnell was a pretty good actor, for an amateur. This good guy was what Valerius could see, at the moment. A good guy indeed. “Mr Parnell is here to apply for the position as… junior lab assistant I belive we called it ... at the Nitrozian-Moletta Sanitary Station. I believe he can be a possible candidate for the job until we find somebody with professional experience in qualified medical laboratory work. He seems to work night and day in another kind of lab already…Would you be so kind to tell us about your work experience in chemistry, please, Mr Parnell. ”

[Inoadar]

'Oh yes, there is definitely a dynamic at work here between these two,' Inoadar confirmed to himself silently, suppressing a laugh at the facade Amolina was putting on. If he didn't know her, he'd probably have been fooled into thinking she was some sort of practicing mystic, or seer. 'But what purpose does a mystic philosopher serve in a scientific pursuit?' But he countered that thought with the acknowledgement that she had shown more than one face to him already. Teasing streetwalker, wounded thief, terrified waif, cold mercenary, disciplined guardian...Was she now going to be 'inventive and experienced lab specialist'?

Valerius seemed to be the only one not putting on airs. Or rather, the airs he was putting on were genuine. He was exactly what he appeared to be, a privileged, rich kid, making full use of his position to demand only the best, not bound by the reality most people have to accept, that you 'can't always get what you want.' Inoadar did not begrudge him his advantages. His life spirit had undoubtedly been reborn at times throughout history. This time around, he was enjoying prestige and wealth. Last time, he may have been a slave.

Inoadar believed that your rebirth reflected the gods' judgements on how well you accepted, and made the best of, your previous situation. If you were a slave, but either made the best of it and earned the esteem of your master as a worthy possession, or fought your way free and made a name for yourself in spite of your humble beginning, then the gods would give you a silver spoon in your mouth the next round. Then if you were cruel and petty, and wasted the family's wealth on pursuits that disgraced the name, it was back to being a slave, the next time. 'Or maybe even a wolf, doomed to die slowly on Inoadar' dagger.'

He realized he was grinning. This was bad, if he admitted his thoughts had wandered, it would be a mark against him. His quick mind scraped up the last comments he'd heard the other two send in his direction. 'Be so kind as to tell us...' She had said. Her courtesy almost seemed like a slap in the face, her words reflecting the sarcasm of the word "kind", where it referred to him. Valerius' request was more direct.

"Forgive me, I have seen many sides of Miss Moletta, but I am finding this...version...quite enjoyable." Inoadar hoped his grin would be taken by Valerius as satisfaction with his wording, and how it let the young man know that this "chemist" was very familiar with this woman. As for Amolina herself, he felt satisfied in returning the favor of a veiled insult. He resumed his serious demeanor and continued. "If I am going to be as open as you would like, sir, I will probably find myself less focused on maintaining my proper level of decorum. I apologize in advance for any offense I may give while speaking plainly." He paused a moment, getting a subtle nod to continue from his host.

"The processes I employ in my lab are probably very much in line with your stated goal, as they are directly related to producing effects within the body. I know of combinations of enzymes, reagents and catalysts that will only affect the muscle tissue, or some that only affect the tendons and sinews, some the target the digestive system, or the structure of bones. I have formulated a serum whose prime component is a fluid from the brain of a body recently abandoned by a Nuit, but not found in the brain of a..."functioning"...one. Nor in the brain of a normal human."

He paused to look at Amolina, wondering if she caught his reference to the 'Dark Reaving' antidote that had been such a peripheral, yet also central, element in their animosity. For a moment, his thoughts turned to Clyde Sullins. He'd heard that the mage had left Ravok. He was glad that he'd "cleared the air" with the man, but he had no great desire to see him again. He cleared his throat and went on.

"But as Miss Moletta has apparently not revealed, my work is in compounds that inflict injury, and debilitation, not healing or resistance to disease. For I am a poisoner."

[Valerius Nitrozian]

As Amolina took a seat, Valerius shook his head. The way she moved was impossibly familiar, as if he were facing Amelia’s sister rather than a woman who didn’t have any relation to her. How was she doing it? Was it on purpose? Did she know of his meetings with the fortune teller? Was she perhaps a secret bastard daughter of Dominick Cross? When he had briefly met the man at the Pit he had not seemed like somebody that would cheat on his wife, but you never knew. He would have to investigate the matter. Amelia Cross looked like a Lark bastard, Amolina Moletta looked like her, it was all too strange to just let it be. „Of course, Miss … Moletta“, he remarked as she told him that it would be rude to make assumptions about other people. „But you cannot fault me for being curious seeing as we are going to work together very closely in the next couple of seasons. You may not be able to see the hidden depths now, but there are means and ways, I’m sure. As for what I am to you, may I asked because I haven’t quite come to a decision myself yet. Let us just be associates then until our business has progressed a little further.“ He turned from her to Mister Parnell as she talked about him. Unlike Amolina and Nolan Valerius was not thinking any mysterious, philosophical thoughts at the moment. He was, for the most part, practical, a business man. He preferred to leave the deeply philosophical discussions up to others. „What other sides of Miss Moletta have you seen, Mister Parnell?“ he asked. Valerius only knew two sides of her so far, the bad actress who had been forced to clean Kelvic cages and the mediocre actress with scientific aspirations, both of which were rather similar personalities, to be honest. As Mister Parnell apologized for any offences he might cause, Valerius nodded curtly and gave him a sign to continue. He didn’t mind offences, as long as they were small. Valerius knew little about enzymes and catalysts. He had assisted Doctor Alzelin and knew how a human or Kelvic body worked, for the most part, but things like chemistry and physics escaped him. He was just about to ask him what kind of serum he had created when he revealed that he was a poisoner. Valerius looked at him for a moment before he replied, „Miss Moletta and I aren’t looking for a healer, Mister Parnell. Your skills in … chemistry will suit us just fine. Tell me though, what kind of fluid can be found in the brain of body abandoned by a Nuit? I have been fascinated by the undead for a while, but have been unable to study them closely so far. The only Nuit I had contact with was not exactly forthcoming with information.“ He frowned a little as he remembered the Nuit doctor that a relative of his had sent him to to see if he could fix him, if he could make him a little less cold, a little more caring.

[Amolina]

For a few chimes Amolina felt her real self, the usual old failed and good-for-nothing multitasking actress Amolina Moletta take over. A sudden feeling of insecurity surged and make her focus on the Cross impersonation project tremble. All of a sudden she felt like she was at an audition and about to be given comments on her shortcomings in acting, in public, helpless to stop it. Surely Valerius wouldn’t want to know what “sides” Nolan Parnell was saying he had seen of her, she thought…then again, Valerius had actually asked for information like he sure wanted to know. Well. But surely Parnell wasn’t going to answer. It wasn’t done in a business meeting at the Nitrozian Estate…it couldn’t happen here. Impossible, she reassured herself. But the moment of feeling frail and fearing the worst was short. The Amelia Cross impersonation kicked in again as her catcher in the rye. She smiled at them with mild lenience while she gracefully got to her feet and shook the skirt of the dress carefully, then pretended to softly, lightly brush invisible dust from it with her fingertips. “I am flattered that you are asking about my other sides Mr Nitrozian, but I must admit that I am like all other women and like to keep my mysteries concealed. But please, I’m a bit worried that there’s dust on my skirt, can you seen any ? “Her voice was slightly worried yet extraordinarily sweet and fashionably pleasant. Still brushing at nothing and without looking at Parnell she spoke to him, her voice even softer now : “I must thank you for your lovely compliment Mr Parnell. There are so many clumsy oafs that wouldn’t be aware that people are like flowers with a multitude of shimmering and fascinating petals… and there’s many different and amazing things to see in just one single person, for those that are sensitive enough to see beyond the first impression, that is. Some people never do.” She was done with brushing dust from her skirt and shook it out again, carefully, gracefully, all the time with the eternally smiling expression like a mask on her face. She took a small porcelain-doll like step away from the chair at the fireplace. From the very start in KRI Valerius had had a way of wanting her to sit down on chairs…she didn’t know why. But she didn’t want to sit so she remained standing. The fortune teller would perhaps have been obedient and sat on the chair, she admitted to herself, but there was a limit to how far Amolina was going to take the impersonation. Perhaps she had managed to confuse away things now. “What do you mean” she said in a somewhat thinner, fainter voice, thinking of the brains and how Parnell was speaking like he was closely acquainted with all sorts of brains, abandoned or not. “Fluid from the brain of a body that has been abandoned by a nuit…? Why … ? ” A shudder went through her body at the thought. This was worse than she had imagined. What the pecth was it Parnell used to do in his lab?