Lyaeus (closed)

[Raffe]

Ephraim smiled.

Raffe asked if someone would be able to inform Carmen how long the trial meant he’d be away from work, and then he submitted to whatever they wanted from him. The tests weren’t invasive, or not more so than a normal check-up. Sat on the bed of a small consultation room, he drifted back to childhood at the orphanage, half expecting one of the doctors to jam open his mouth to count his teeth. He didn’t ask what they were doing, though they chattered amiably both to each other and to him the entire time. Enduring the blood draw wasn’t pleasant but it only lasted a moment. He watched the vials fill up idly. It was worse when they asked about the scars on his neck and the scratch of his whispery voice, but he only mumbled about how it had been an accident. They shrugged the explanation away, and spoke amongst themselves about the possibilities of reconstructive surgery like he wasn’t there.

True to Ephraim’s word, they did offer him lunch afterwards. The food was fancy and Raffe only picked at it, thinking about Nox’s voicemail and what he did or did not intend to do about it. Not that he had the means to do anything at all right now; they still had the wallet in their lockup. Once he’d finished eating an aide offered to show him around the visitor’s centre, and he followed the man numbly amongst exhibits and screens and glass cases full of tech. At the tour’s conclusion Raffe agreed to watch a presentation on the History and Future of Paragon in a small theatre room just for a moment to sit in the cool dark, alone, and not have to bite back the melancholy of his mood. Afterwards he wiped his face, stepped back into the bright and airy foyer, and thanked the aid for his time.

They returned his things, as well as a single-use screen containing a copy of his contract, a schedule of when he should return, and a veritable stack of other information regarding the tests he had agreed to, the aims of the trial, the length of the study, and a contact for Paragon’s medical team should he feel the need.

Then they let him go.

It was early evening when he stumbled back down the steps into the manicured grounds that surrounded the immense building and sheltered it from the reality of the world beyond. For a while he wandered the green walkways, until he found a bench to sit on. Leaves from the cradling bushes stirred against his shoulders, and he sighed for the first moment of almost-calm he had experienced the entire day. Paragon’s screen lay abandoned beside him; he hadn’t even looked at it, nor was he sure he would. Instead he held Nox’s wallet on his lap. He could barely hear the surrounding traffic noises from here, though the building was in the very heart of the city. Green spaces were sparse in the darkest parts of Moscow. Raffe felt the ease of it slip into his bones. Felt his head begin to clear for the first time in days.

He stared at the darkened screen a while, but didn’t switch it on this time. Time and space and both desperately needed, but he wasn’t sure he could trust himself for either.

Raffe closed his eyes and sighed.

The secretary looked at him in surprise when he returned so soon, though she smiled too. People usually did when Raffe was around.

“Mr Janssen,” she said pleasantly. “Did you forget something?”

“Sorry,” he said. “I was wondering, though. Do you have somewhere I could stay? For the duration of the trial, I mean. If I didn’t want to go home?”