Grimoires and Gunsmoke

“They still haven’t killed me…” Lysandra remarked as she glanced up at a curious artifact alien to her world. This strange, flat box had moving images and it showed scenes that shifted and changed.

Sometimes the artifact displayed more otherworldly humans doing mundane tasks, other times it showcased breathtaking cityscapes that Lysandra could only dream of visiting, like the capital of the Holy Dominion or the Magi’s Sanctum’s various seaborne Cities. However, what really caught Lysandra’s attention wasn’t the fact that they hand moving pictures, no, no, no. Those types of magicks were rare in her neck of the words, sure, but they were frequent enough for her to see them.

No, it was the fact that there was sound… and it was IMPECCABLE.

The voices, the music, the ambient noises - everything was so clear. It was as if she was in the same space as the scenes unfolding before her. The chirping of birds felt so real she almost looked around the room for them. The delicate notes of an instrument made her feel as if the musician was right next to her, playing a serenade just for her ears. It was a sensory experience unlike any other she had experienced.

She scooped another spoonful of the bland porridge they served her and shoved it into her mouth, the tepid mush barely registering on her taste buds. Compared to the vibrant sounds from the artifact, the food seemed something only the undead would find appetizing. As she chewed, she couldn't help but remark, "For beings that can create such wondrous sounds, they sure don't know how to make food exciting."

Every once in a while, however, they would surprise her. It was rare, but sometimes these otherworlders would bring in a dish or a drink whose flavors were so intense and unique that they would leave her speechless. Lysandra remembered the first time they had given her something they called "chocolate." The rich, velvety texture and the intoxicating sweetness had left her absolutely salivating, but those delightful surprises were short-lived. But after consumption, this world's version of what Lysandra assumed were 'healers', swarmed her conducting all manners of strange and indecipherable tests.

Over time, Lysandra realized that their intentions weren't malicious, but curious. However, she just wished they would step up their culinary game.

Suddenly, the thick metal door beeped and creaked open, and in walked a group of three individuals that frequented her room every day. The soldiers stationed in Lysandra’s room immediately snapped to attention and saluted the middle of the three, a tall pale woman with dark hair pulled back into a bun.

“At ease.” The woman said before turning to an even taller man with salt-and-pepper hair and glasses perched on his nose. He was flanked by a young woman with a head full of curly hair and a notebook clutched in her hands, who seemed to be absolutely giddy to just be here.

“Dr. Stenhouse, if you will.” The woman gestured towards Lysandra and stood next to the soldiers.

Dr. Stenhouse cleared his throat and began arranging some materials on a nearby table. He then turned his attention to Lysandra and started speaking, slowly and deliberately. Each word seemed to be weighed and measured, "You... feel... today... good?"

Though the sentence was fragmented, Lysandra grasped the essence of his inquiry. She blinked, genuinely impressed. "You... learn quick" she responded, matching his halting tone, her brows raised in surprise.

While the older man documented the exchange on his device, the young woman excitedly began feverishly scribbling on her notepad.

The lead linguist nodded, smiling slightly. "Yes. We try. Understand you."

Lysandra observed the two for a few moments and thought about how they made great strides since their first, awkward attempt at communication. It was obvious they had an excellent methodical approach that any Academy or school in her world would trip over themselves to get. Being able to break down language to its most rudimentary form and then gradually rebuilding it just to be able to communicate with some Freelancer was truly astounding.

The curly-haired woman, emboldened by the successful exchange, inched closer to Lysandra. She pointed at her and said, "You feel… good?" She asked again, trying to emulate the tone and pacing that Lysandra might find familiar. “No hurt?”

A chuckle left Lysandra’s mouth as glanced at the woman. “No Emma, no hurt.” She remembered the woman introducing herself as 'Emma' during one of their previous sessions. “But I would like some better food though…” Lysandra added with a self depreciating smirk.

Emma and Dr. Stenhouse exchanged puzzled looks. "Food," Emma murmured, jotting down the word. "That one we got."

Dr. Stenhouse leaned in, adjusting his glasses. "We also got ‘'better,' and ‘like’, but it’s the rest I’m unsure about… The syntax is unusual, but let's dissect it."

Emma tapped the end of her pen on the notepad, deep in thought. "Okay, whenever she says ‘like’, she usually indicates a preference or desire for something.

Tapping his hand on his head, Dr. Stenhouse nodded in agreement. "That's consistent with our language as well. And 'better' generally signifies an improvement or something of superior quality."

Flipping through pages of her notebook, Emma stopped on one page and circled a few passages. "If we pair 'like' with 'better food', it might be that she's indicating she's not really satisfied with her food.”

After a few moments of silence, Dr. Stenhouse straightened up, turned, and cast his gaze over to the group standing slightly apart from them. "Ms. Toivonen," he called, seeking out the stern-looking woman who was dressed in a crisp, tailored women’s dress suit. "What exactly are we feeding her?"

Toivonen turned to the senior linguist with an unreadable expression. "Primarily Porridge," she replied simply, her voice carrying a note of finality. "Until we know more about her biology and what is safe, it's the most neutral thing we can give her. We don’t know what might harm... the subject."

Emma's eyes flashed with a hint of defiance. "She's not a 'subject', Toivonen. She's a person. Her name is Lysandra."

The professionally dressed woman regarded Emma for a few moments and met the junior linguist's fiery gaze with an icy one. “We don’t know what might harm ‘Lysandra’.” She said, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to squabble with some random academic. “Our top priority here is to ensure nothing compromises her health.”

"Then let's work collaboratively.” Emma immediately responded, squaring her shoulders in refusal to back down. “Lysandra has given us so much in terms of communication and understanding. The least we can do is ensure she's comfortable. If she's expressing dissatisfaction with her food, shouldn't we address it?"

Never more than in this very moment did Toivonen want to roll her eyes, but she maintained her composure, giving Dr. Stenhouse a brief glance and communicating to him to control his assistant before addressing Emma again. "It's not our decision to make. If the medical team deems it unsafe, then it's not safe. The decision about Lysandra's food is based on a combination of factors, including her biology and potential allergic reactions. It’s a matter of security, not comfort."

Dr. Stenhouse, sensing the escalating tension, stepped in, "Ms. Toivonen, I understand your concerns, and they are valid. But perhaps we can find a middle ground? Maybe consult the medical team and see if there's any possibility of introducing a variety of foods to Lysandra, even if slowly? Monitoring her reactions, and adjusting accordingly?"

Toivonen exhaled slowly. "Dr. Stenhouse, it's not about denying her comfort. But our hands are tied until we have more information. I'll speak with the medical team, but I can't guarantee anything."

An exhausted sigh left Emma’s mouth as she basically snarled at the tall woman. "Ugh, you CIA types always say your hands are tied, all we’re asking-”

“What we’re asking for!” Dr. Stenhouse interrupted with a firm voice and giving his assistant a stern look, "is a chance for collaboration and understanding. Now I understand that we’re only here because YOU allow us to be here and no one's doubting the importance of security,” He continued, silently conveying to Emma to control herself. “but we're also dealing with a sentient being who's been nothing but cooperative and we could INCREASE that cooperation by simply addressing her basic needs."

Emma bit her lip, taking a step back, acknowledging Dr. Stenhouse's silent message.

Toivonen's face remained inscrutable as weighed the pros and cons of the argument in her own head. A full minute of silence stretched out between the three of them, making the room's atmosphere palpably tense. The gentle hum of the facility's ventilation system was the only sound cutting through the quiet standoff.

With impatience starting to win over her better judgment, Emma started to fidget, unable to understand how someone could deny another person their basic human rights. Every so often, she would glance at Dr. Stenhouse, as if seeking permission to interject.

Taking a deep breath, Emma opened her mouth to speak. But just before she could utter a word, Toivonen swiftly turned on her heels and strode over to the wall-mounted intercom. With a quick press of a button, she began speaking, "Medical team, this is Toivonen. Please report to conference room three. We have a matter to discuss concerning the... patient's dietary requirements."

Emma blinked in surprise, exchanging a glance with Dr. Stenhouse while their handler promptly left the room.

“All you need to do to convince those types of people is to speak their language,” Dr. Stenhouse said with a smile, motioning for Emma to follow him to a quieter corner of the room.

The assistant raised an eyebrow and gave Dr. Stenhouse an intrigued look. "And what language is that?"

"Pragmatism," he responded. "Spy types, especially at Toivonen’s level, deal in risks, benefits, and bottom lines. They're not heartless, but they've learned to set emotions aside in order to complete their objective. So, when dealing with them, it's essential to present your arguments in terms of practical benefits and minimized risks."

A frustrated huff left Emma’s mouth as she rubbed her temples. “I REALLY don’t like how they can just… set aside their humanity just to get a strategic advantage…” She said furrowing her brow. “But I get what you’re saying. It’s a matter of framing the narrative in a way that aligns with their priorities.”

Dr. Stenhouse simply gave her a wry smile. “I don’t like it either, but we have to play their game if we’re going to ensure Lysandra's well-being and understand her people. If speaking their language can get us there faster, then that's what we have to do."

Emma frowned as she stared down at her shoes. "It just feels... manipulative."

“Emma, their job is TO BE manipulative.” Dr. Stenhouse put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Their entire purpose is to think 10 steps ahead and most of the time, humanity isn’t even a factor.” He said, looking back at Lysandra who was giving them a concerned look.

A frustrated growl left the assistance mouth as she ruffled her curly hair. “No, their job is to be EVIL! How could someone treat another living, breathing person as if they’re some kind of… object!?”

Letting loose a deep sigh, Dr. Stenhouse pinched the bridge of his nose, “I don’t disagree with you, Emma. But you have to understand we’re in a delicate situation.” He explained, turning back to his assistant. “We’ve been given an infinitely unique opportunity that any Academic or Scientist would kill for and they’re the ones in control-”

“But it’s not right!” Emma interrupted, her voice quivering with anger and disbelief. "They can’t just strip someone's rights and dignity away because it's convenient!” She nearly shouted, gesturing animatedly. “When does it stop? When they dehumanize everyone of them and-”

Before she could continue, Dr. Stenhouse raised a hand, signaling her to halt. His voice took on a chilling edge as he looked into Emma’s eyes with a piercing gaze. "Emma, you need to understand something." He began, his eyes locked onto hers. "These people, this establishment, they operate on their own terms. They can and will do as they please and the moment we cease being valuable, the moment we're no longer an asset to them…? We’re gone."

Emma remained silent and gritted her teeth as the weight of the senior linguist's words settled in her heart. Tears welled up in her eyes, not just from anger but from the fear and realization of their precarious situation. "So, what? We just play their twisted games and dance to their tune?”

Dr. Stenhouse sighed again as he rubbed his temples. “For now, yes. But we do it smartly, subtly. We use the position we're in to GENTLY push things in the right direction.” He said, putting hand on Emma’s shoulder. “If we're too direct, we risk everything. But with a careful approach, we can influence outcomes and even turn them into seeing things how we see them.”

Even though Lysandra didn’t understand a word that was said, the tension in the conversation caused her anxiety to spike as she laid in her hospital bed. Her singular good eye consistently shot between the two scholars as she tried to figure out what might have gone wrong.

Only the hum of the fluorescent lights and the beeps of strange machines resounded in the room for what felt like an eternity, but it was Lysandra who finally broke the silence. "Problem?" she asked, her tone filled with worry.

The two academics exchanged a glance for a moment unsure how to respond, but Dr. Stenhouse gave her a reassuring smile and pointed to himself and his assistant. “No, no. We fix problem.” He paused, trying to find the words in his limited vocabulary. "Just... talking. All is okay."

Lysandra stared at them for a moment, her gaze searching and unsure, but then she nodded slowly. “Okay,” she responded softly, taking solace in their assurance.

The conversation had drained a significant amount of energy from both the linguists, but they chose to continue on with deciphering Lysandra's language as Emma reopened her notebook and Dr. Stenhouse resumed his questioning. However, as the hospital room regained its warm atmosphere, the chilliness of the facility's hallways were magnified by the clicks of Toivonens heels clicking against the sterile floor.

Toivonen didn’t much care for the melodramatics of the more emotionally driven University types. To her, there was just too much on the line for anything other than functionality, pragmatism, and clear objectives. Her fingers brushed against the cold metal of the handrail as she marched through the maze of corridors. The walls, painted in the stark whites and grays typical of military and research complexes, seemed to close in around her, echoing her every step.

Though most of the facility was brightly lit, Toivonen’s path was marked by pools of shadows, and her thoughts turned increasingly dark. These academics, with their lofty ideals and bleeding hearts, were always a hassle to deal with. They were simply too naive and failed to see the bigger picture. National security, global diplomacy, the very fabric of human society, these were the stakes that had landed squarely on her shoulders and an entity completely alien to their world like Lysandra represented risks and opportunities on a scale not even Toivonen herself could fathom.

As she approached conference room 3, she took a moment to straighten her jacket and compose herself. With a quick tug at her lanyard, Toivonen ensured her access badge was still in place as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a black featureless phone.

With a few taps, she lifted the phone to her ear and spoke. “It’s me. The academics have a new demand, they want to change the subjects dietary needs."

A few moments passed with a few hums and acknowledgements before she continued, "I've already called in the medical team for a review, but between you and me, this is starting to get messy. Stenhouse and his assistant are becoming emotionally invested and it's compromising their objectivity."

Toivonen paused once more as a muffled voice leaked through the device's small speaker. Whatever they said caused a thin line of annoyance to appear on Toivonen’s face as she pursed her lips. "Yes, yes, I understand the value they bring, but there are limits and I won’t hesitate to pull them off this project if they become a liability."

Sighing deeply, Toivonen pinched the bridge of her nose and tilted her head upwards to push back against her growing headache. “Yes… Yes sir. I understand sir.” She closed her eyes briefly, grounding herself before speaking again. "I’ll try sir, but we need to set clear boundaries with them going forward. Perhaps a meeting to reiterate our objectives and priorities is in order.”

The voice on the other end murmured in agreement, suggesting a time for the meeting. “Tomorrow at 0900,” Toivonen confirmed. “And make sure Dr. Stenhouse and his assistant understand that I WILL replace them if they can’t understand the gravity of the situation. We need to consider all angles, and we can’t compromise the subject’s health.”

With a final affirmation, Toivonen ended the call and slipped the phone back into her pocket. The woman kept pinching the bridge of her nose for a few more moments before glancing at the closed doors of conference room 3 and steeling herself for the meeting ahead.

As she entered the conference room, she saw it was filled with a blend of military and medical personnel, all sitting around a large, round table covered with documents, screens, and various classified devices.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," she acknowledged the staff in the room with a nod. "You all know why I’ve called you down here, so let's get down to it. I want a list of what we can safely introduce into the subject's diet without compromising her health."

Everyone in the room looked at each other before Dr. Kassa threw up her hand and cleared her throat. "Well… we've been closely monitoring the patients' reactions to various food samples that we've introduced," she began, adjusting her glasses. "And so far… she hasn't shown any allergic reactions to anything we've tested for.”

“Yet.”

The ‘yet’ made Toivonen’s eye twitch as her finger tapped against her arm steadily. “Go on, Dr. Kassa.”

Dr. Kassa took a deep breath and looked down at the documents in front of her. "Well…”