Here's day 3. Just like yesterday we wound up with double c's. Coddiwomple, and Concussed.
If you missed day one and two, here's A:Atraxia and B:Broody.
By the end of the week I'll start some sort of master list, so you don't have to click through if you miss a day, or start next month or something.
If you missed day one and two, here's A:Atraxia and B:Broody.
By the end of the week I'll start some sort of master list, so you don't have to click through if you miss a day, or start next month or something.
Given the fact Libby hallucinated one of the founding scenes from Pride and Prejudice while she was concussed, it might be logical to expect her brain to come up with something equally fanciful in those last minutes before the medical sedative turned her loose.
Maybe the ball at Bingley’s, or Mr. Darcy’s failed proposal, if her subconscious was going to stick with the Austen theme.
Instead, a nurse walked through the door and Libby Wade become immediately aware of her surroundings. This was not to say that she woke up. Waking implies one was previously asleep and slowly stirred to consciousness. Libby was not asleep before the nurse opened the door with a soft swoosh and stepped through. Libby wasn’t…anything. Libby felt as if she wasn’t before that exact moment.
She hated sedatives.
“Well you’re going to be difficult,” the nurse huffed, checking her vitals. “Do you feel good, sugar?”
She closed her eyes and carefully took stock. Her head felt fine, minus the swimmy bits from the sedative that clearly wasn’t completely out of her system yet. Her leg was all healed, and whatever internal bleeding she’d had—they’d been thankfully vague about that—seemed to have healed. “Yeah, I’m good.”
The nurse—her pin said Carolynne and she had a kind dark face, excessively pink nails, and perfect straight white teeth—leaned over and checked her pupils. “Wonderful. The doc-in-a-bot will be in to see you in a second.” Carolynne glanced over her shoulder. “There are some officers here to see you, do you need me to chase them off?”
“Run, Libby! It’s not going to hold.”
“I can’t leave you here—”
“Go!”
“James—”
“Go! I’ll give you as long as I can. Tell them—”
“Hey.” Carolynne snapped in front of her face.
Libby swallowed, her head hurting. “Can I have some water?”
“Of course. Do I need to tell them to give you more time to rest?”
She laughed, relaxing against the pillow. “Does that work?” She didn’t wait for Carolynne to answer. “No. I’m okay.”
Carolynne muttered on her way out the door, and it’d barely swished closed before it opened again.
“Can we come in?” her Mr. Darcy asked, voice gruff. He was tall, like properly tall, and had the stupid fad beard that’d come back into style, and she couldn’t remember his actual name.
“We?”
He stepped forward. “My name is Cap…” He cleared his throat. “Brody Halliday. Do you remember me?”
She pushed the bed control up gently, so she wasn’t flat on her back trying to crane up to look at him. “I remember you, I didn’t remember your name.”
He nodded, like that was to be expected, and glanced over his shoulder. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He looked back at her. “There’s a detective here from PacIC CID that has some questions though.”
“Are you going to offer to chase her away for me, too?”
Captain Halliday cocked a brow at her, eyes wide. “No. I thought I’d make introductions, since she asked.”
The other figure stepped through the frosted privacy door, and Libby realized why it’d only been a blob of dark on the other side of the glass. The CID detective was wearing a black headscarf and a dark, neat suit and it’d all sort of blended together through the glass.
“Ms Libby Wade, this is Inspector Dagny Hussein.”
The inspector stepped up to the bed, dark brown eyes clear and direct. “Miss Wade, are you feeling well enough to answer some questions for me?”
Libby swallowed, and watched as the gopher robot maneuvered through the door, around the other people in her room, and stopped next to the other side of the bed with a pouch of water, made to keep her from drinking too quickly. She took a grateful sip.
“I feel…fine, considering.” She took another sip. “My memory seems a little…messy.”
Inspector Hussein smiled kindly, but Libby wasn’t sure that was genuine. “That’s understandable. Just a few preliminary questions.”
She nodded.
“We haven’t found your arrival manifest, Ms. Wade, is there a reason for that?”
Libby blinked at her. “I don’t know.” She shifted, uncomfortable. Why couldn’t they find her manifest? James had called them in as they docked, hadn’t he? “James called the transport in.”
Inspector Hussein took notes on her personal device. “And what was James’ last name?”
“Smith.” Libby rubbed her forehead. “James Smith. I remember him calling the transport in, but I don’t remember the call sign. I know the control answered, and the barrier opened normally.”
“Okay.” The inspector nodded. “Have you known Mr. Smith long?”
“About two years.”
“We haven’t found you in the system yet either, can you tell me what you do?”
“Population statistics. I run non-government surveys.”
“And that pays well enough for private transport?”
Libby flushed. “No. Not even close. James had the transport. He works…worked in banking? I’m not really sure what exactly.”
She scribbled another note. “Do you remember who he worked for?”
“He was changing jobs. They just hired him at PacIC City Conglomerated.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Global Information Gathering LLC. My supervisor is Matthew Perthins. His office number is on the website.”
“Was Mr. Smith a work connection or a personal connection.”
“Um…”
There was a soft noise from Captain Halliday in the back of the room, and she resisted the urge to tell him to stuff it.
“Um?” Inspector Hussein asked, patiently waiting.
“I met him at a business function, but I don’t believe he was ever actually connected to GIG.”
“Did you have a romantic relationship?”
“No.” Libby rubbed her forehead. “He hinted. A lot.” She took another drink from her little pouch, and waited for the ‘why didn’t you date him’ question that was probably coming because of course she wanted to talk about her private life with complete strangers.
“Should I be looking for you under a different name in the database? We’ve tried Elizabeth and Libby, neither got a return that fit you.”
“No.” Libby swallowed. “That’s my only name. And given I filed my taxes like six months ago and that went through fine, it should be there.”
“It should.” Inspector Hussein nodded. “Well, that’s all I have for now.” She pulled out a small, actual paper business card. “I’m going to leave this with you. Please inform me when you leave the hospital, I’m sure we’ll have a few more questions.”
She turned, and nodded to Captain Halliday, and stepped gracefully from the room.
Libby didn’t feel even a little better. She was supposed to be answering questions for the inspector, not coming up with a million more for herself.
Maybe the ball at Bingley’s, or Mr. Darcy’s failed proposal, if her subconscious was going to stick with the Austen theme.
Instead, a nurse walked through the door and Libby Wade become immediately aware of her surroundings. This was not to say that she woke up. Waking implies one was previously asleep and slowly stirred to consciousness. Libby was not asleep before the nurse opened the door with a soft swoosh and stepped through. Libby wasn’t…anything. Libby felt as if she wasn’t before that exact moment.
She hated sedatives.
“Well you’re going to be difficult,” the nurse huffed, checking her vitals. “Do you feel good, sugar?”
She closed her eyes and carefully took stock. Her head felt fine, minus the swimmy bits from the sedative that clearly wasn’t completely out of her system yet. Her leg was all healed, and whatever internal bleeding she’d had—they’d been thankfully vague about that—seemed to have healed. “Yeah, I’m good.”
The nurse—her pin said Carolynne and she had a kind dark face, excessively pink nails, and perfect straight white teeth—leaned over and checked her pupils. “Wonderful. The doc-in-a-bot will be in to see you in a second.” Carolynne glanced over her shoulder. “There are some officers here to see you, do you need me to chase them off?”
“Run, Libby! It’s not going to hold.”
“I can’t leave you here—”
“Go!”
“James—”
“Go! I’ll give you as long as I can. Tell them—”
“Hey.” Carolynne snapped in front of her face.
Libby swallowed, her head hurting. “Can I have some water?”
“Of course. Do I need to tell them to give you more time to rest?”
She laughed, relaxing against the pillow. “Does that work?” She didn’t wait for Carolynne to answer. “No. I’m okay.”
Carolynne muttered on her way out the door, and it’d barely swished closed before it opened again.
“Can we come in?” her Mr. Darcy asked, voice gruff. He was tall, like properly tall, and had the stupid fad beard that’d come back into style, and she couldn’t remember his actual name.
“We?”
He stepped forward. “My name is Cap…” He cleared his throat. “Brody Halliday. Do you remember me?”
She pushed the bed control up gently, so she wasn’t flat on her back trying to crane up to look at him. “I remember you, I didn’t remember your name.”
He nodded, like that was to be expected, and glanced over his shoulder. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He looked back at her. “There’s a detective here from PacIC CID that has some questions though.”
“Are you going to offer to chase her away for me, too?”
Captain Halliday cocked a brow at her, eyes wide. “No. I thought I’d make introductions, since she asked.”
The other figure stepped through the frosted privacy door, and Libby realized why it’d only been a blob of dark on the other side of the glass. The CID detective was wearing a black headscarf and a dark, neat suit and it’d all sort of blended together through the glass.
“Ms Libby Wade, this is Inspector Dagny Hussein.”
The inspector stepped up to the bed, dark brown eyes clear and direct. “Miss Wade, are you feeling well enough to answer some questions for me?”
Libby swallowed, and watched as the gopher robot maneuvered through the door, around the other people in her room, and stopped next to the other side of the bed with a pouch of water, made to keep her from drinking too quickly. She took a grateful sip.
“I feel…fine, considering.” She took another sip. “My memory seems a little…messy.”
Inspector Hussein smiled kindly, but Libby wasn’t sure that was genuine. “That’s understandable. Just a few preliminary questions.”
She nodded.
“We haven’t found your arrival manifest, Ms. Wade, is there a reason for that?”
Libby blinked at her. “I don’t know.” She shifted, uncomfortable. Why couldn’t they find her manifest? James had called them in as they docked, hadn’t he? “James called the transport in.”
Inspector Hussein took notes on her personal device. “And what was James’ last name?”
“Smith.” Libby rubbed her forehead. “James Smith. I remember him calling the transport in, but I don’t remember the call sign. I know the control answered, and the barrier opened normally.”
“Okay.” The inspector nodded. “Have you known Mr. Smith long?”
“About two years.”
“We haven’t found you in the system yet either, can you tell me what you do?”
“Population statistics. I run non-government surveys.”
“And that pays well enough for private transport?”
Libby flushed. “No. Not even close. James had the transport. He works…worked in banking? I’m not really sure what exactly.”
She scribbled another note. “Do you remember who he worked for?”
“He was changing jobs. They just hired him at PacIC City Conglomerated.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Global Information Gathering LLC. My supervisor is Matthew Perthins. His office number is on the website.”
“Was Mr. Smith a work connection or a personal connection.”
“Um…”
There was a soft noise from Captain Halliday in the back of the room, and she resisted the urge to tell him to stuff it.
“Um?” Inspector Hussein asked, patiently waiting.
“I met him at a business function, but I don’t believe he was ever actually connected to GIG.”
“Did you have a romantic relationship?”
“No.” Libby rubbed her forehead. “He hinted. A lot.” She took another drink from her little pouch, and waited for the ‘why didn’t you date him’ question that was probably coming because of course she wanted to talk about her private life with complete strangers.
“Should I be looking for you under a different name in the database? We’ve tried Elizabeth and Libby, neither got a return that fit you.”
“No.” Libby swallowed. “That’s my only name. And given I filed my taxes like six months ago and that went through fine, it should be there.”
“It should.” Inspector Hussein nodded. “Well, that’s all I have for now.” She pulled out a small, actual paper business card. “I’m going to leave this with you. Please inform me when you leave the hospital, I’m sure we’ll have a few more questions.”
She turned, and nodded to Captain Halliday, and stepped gracefully from the room.
Libby didn’t feel even a little better. She was supposed to be answering questions for the inspector, not coming up with a million more for herself.
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