that the Ferid even exist. Ru and Basuram could both be making up some shadow organization to cover their own tracks.”
Selena gave me an odd look. “Are you sure about that? When I look at Ru, I see a kid suffering from post-traumatic stress. I don’t think he has anything to gain by making things up.”
“You don’t know that you’re seeing PTSD. Not for sure. He’s a pureblood demon with DNA that looks like something out of Beowulf . We don’t know what he’s feeling, what his motivations are, just like we don’t know anything about Basuram.”
“Come on. Your mothering instincts didn’t kick in when you saw him?”
“That seems like precisely the sort of thing you’d tell me to ignore.”
Selena half smiled. “Professionalism is important. But when I look at him—I mean, he’s not just a homeless demon. He’s alone in this world. He may never make it back home, and now he’s stuck here. I can’t imagine what that feels like.”
“It feels to me like you could both be having this conversation in another place,” Linus said, returning to his computer. “Unless you have any more questions about base pairs. The more detailed restriction fragment length testing should be done within the next eight hours or so, but it may take longer.”
“I won’t ask how much longer,” Selena replied sweetly. “Just page me when it’s done. Whenever that might be.”
“Of course.” He didn’t look up. “It’ll be the highlight of my evening.”
We both left the DNA lab. Selena chuckled. “Sometimes I think that Linus is the only professional working here.”
“You’re pretty professional.”
“That’s faint praise coming from you.”
“Ouch!” I shook my head. “Still—it feels like our roles are reversed lately. You’re lecturing me on empathy, and I’m talking about physical evidence.”
Selena sighed. “It’s just the direction my life is taking.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not even sure. I barely understand it myself.”
I suddenly remembered a moment last year. Selena was testing Derrick’s intuitive abilities by using flash cards. At the end of the exercise, he was supposed to read her emotions, and he picked up something while she was staring at a drawing of a gun. Fear. Selena Ward, our director, afraid of a gun. It didn’t make sense.
Who’s Jessica?
Derrick had asked her that. It was a name that he’d heard by accident while reading her mind. As soon as he mentioned it, she shut down. Nobody had mentioned it since then, but I knew that it had something to do with Selena’s change in behavior lately. I knew it in a way that wouldn’t break down into numerical data or chemical peaks and valleys. It was like the footprint of a feeling.
“How much time have you been spending with Ru?” I asked.
“Not much. He’ll only talk for a certain amount of time. I get the impression that our language is very inefficient for him. He can’t express himself as precisely as he’d like to, and he gets tired of it. Then he just goes quiet.”
“Not precise enough? Have you heard him talk about quantum physics?”
“I don’t mean grammatical precision. I think a component of his native language may be gestural, or even telepathic. It’s not that he can’t make himself understood perfectly in English. He’d probably pass the Graduate Record Exam with flying colors. But our language’s innate shortcomings seem to bother him.”
“They didn’t seem to bother Basuram.”
“He’d be a sadistic bastard in any language.”
We came to a secure area. Selena gestured to the security guards standing on either side of the door. Both of them had an athame, sheathed but ready. I could sense that they were trained specifically in the use of thermal materia. Their auras smelled a bit like campfires.
They stepped aside. Selena swiped her key card, and we walked through the door into a short hallway. CT scanning panels had been positioned along the walls. As I walked,
Selena gave me an odd look. “Are you sure about that? When I look at Ru, I see a kid suffering from post-traumatic stress. I don’t think he has anything to gain by making things up.”
“You don’t know that you’re seeing PTSD. Not for sure. He’s a pureblood demon with DNA that looks like something out of Beowulf . We don’t know what he’s feeling, what his motivations are, just like we don’t know anything about Basuram.”
“Come on. Your mothering instincts didn’t kick in when you saw him?”
“That seems like precisely the sort of thing you’d tell me to ignore.”
Selena half smiled. “Professionalism is important. But when I look at him—I mean, he’s not just a homeless demon. He’s alone in this world. He may never make it back home, and now he’s stuck here. I can’t imagine what that feels like.”
“It feels to me like you could both be having this conversation in another place,” Linus said, returning to his computer. “Unless you have any more questions about base pairs. The more detailed restriction fragment length testing should be done within the next eight hours or so, but it may take longer.”
“I won’t ask how much longer,” Selena replied sweetly. “Just page me when it’s done. Whenever that might be.”
“Of course.” He didn’t look up. “It’ll be the highlight of my evening.”
We both left the DNA lab. Selena chuckled. “Sometimes I think that Linus is the only professional working here.”
“You’re pretty professional.”
“That’s faint praise coming from you.”
“Ouch!” I shook my head. “Still—it feels like our roles are reversed lately. You’re lecturing me on empathy, and I’m talking about physical evidence.”
Selena sighed. “It’s just the direction my life is taking.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not even sure. I barely understand it myself.”
I suddenly remembered a moment last year. Selena was testing Derrick’s intuitive abilities by using flash cards. At the end of the exercise, he was supposed to read her emotions, and he picked up something while she was staring at a drawing of a gun. Fear. Selena Ward, our director, afraid of a gun. It didn’t make sense.
Who’s Jessica?
Derrick had asked her that. It was a name that he’d heard by accident while reading her mind. As soon as he mentioned it, she shut down. Nobody had mentioned it since then, but I knew that it had something to do with Selena’s change in behavior lately. I knew it in a way that wouldn’t break down into numerical data or chemical peaks and valleys. It was like the footprint of a feeling.
“How much time have you been spending with Ru?” I asked.
“Not much. He’ll only talk for a certain amount of time. I get the impression that our language is very inefficient for him. He can’t express himself as precisely as he’d like to, and he gets tired of it. Then he just goes quiet.”
“Not precise enough? Have you heard him talk about quantum physics?”
“I don’t mean grammatical precision. I think a component of his native language may be gestural, or even telepathic. It’s not that he can’t make himself understood perfectly in English. He’d probably pass the Graduate Record Exam with flying colors. But our language’s innate shortcomings seem to bother him.”
“They didn’t seem to bother Basuram.”
“He’d be a sadistic bastard in any language.”
We came to a secure area. Selena gestured to the security guards standing on either side of the door. Both of them had an athame, sheathed but ready. I could sense that they were trained specifically in the use of thermal materia. Their auras smelled a bit like campfires.
They stepped aside. Selena swiped her key card, and we walked through the door into a short hallway. CT scanning panels had been positioned along the walls. As I walked,
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