The Art Part Next

Posted on Mon 22nd Jul, 2019 @ 9:19pm by Commander Paul Graves PsyD
Edited on on Sun 11th Aug, 2019 @ 12:28am

1,067 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: Addams Family Home, Deck 1554, Security Dept.
Timeline: MD 6, 1445

Previously, an Addams, a counselor and a ghost sat down for a talk and a nap ....

Purulence slept for a good twenty minutes, during which Paul could see that she was actively dreaming, her eyes moving back and forth beneath her closed eyelids. She awoke with a tiny shriek, sitting bolt-upright on the sofa, trembling.

"Oh, my God, Victoria--" Then she realized where she was and calmed herself. "Well, that was exciting." She let out a breath and looked at Paul. "I got an image of her husband's attacker. Didn't think I could encounter someone worse than my ex-fiancé, but there he was." She swung her legs off the couch, leaned forward, and picked up the art pencil and sketchpad. With decisive strokes, she began to draw.

Victoria relaxed, let her mind drift for a few minutes as the artist sketched. She hoped what Ms Addams had in her head was what she had been visualizing. And what had she meant about someone worse than her ex-fiancé? The ghost had sent the view she'd had of the man's face, but had the woman been able to pick things out of her brain? If that's what she still had. It was hard to know what body parts a ghost had when there was no body.

The image of a man wearing a hooded cowl took shape on the paper, his eyes staring out of the page and filled with menace. Purulence spent an unusual amount of time on them before moving to details of clothing, using draping and folds to show the sudden movement as he'd pulled his weapon free of the wound he had made with it. At last, she let out a deep breath, signed the sketch, and set the art pencil down on the table. She flipped the sketchbook around so Paul could see the drawing unobscured by her long, black hair. "Victoria, is this your guy?"

Dal's wife examined the drawing line by line, avoiding the eyes. The artist was better than she'd had any reason to hope. Finally, she looked at the eyes. Yes, there was no doubt about the threat that lurked there. It was the same man, and she pushed waves of positivity at both of them before rising. "I have to go to Dallas now," she said, knowing neither of them would hear or understand. "You have what you need to root out this evil."

Victoria pushed gratitude toward them, and then she simply became vapor and rose up out of the room, through the next floor, finally the attic and out through the roof. She continued to rise until she came to Main Sickbay where Dallas still lay quietly resting, no longer surrounded by the living, but only by machines which monitored his vital signs.

"That's him," Paul told Purulence. He shook his head at the sketch. "I hope I never meet that guy in a dark alley."

"Me, neither," Purulence agreed. "Let me print an image of this sketch that you can take to Security. There's an officer name Michaels and one named Morgan. I've worked with them before--They used my sketch from the seance to investigate the guy that woman killed."

"Thank you," Paul said. He waited as Purulence went upstairs to make the print. She returned a couple of minutes later and handed Paul a folder with the printed sketch inside. "Is there anything I can do in thanks for this?"

Purulence smiled and shook her head. "Just tell Michaels and Morgan to catch this guy. He's bad news."

=====

Victoria hovered over her husband for a moment, resting her hand on his shoulder, not letting it go through him, but resting in the air just above his skin.

"I've heard your aura can help you heal, Dal. I can't interact with you to reflect it on your body. You'll have to wake and do that yourself. But I'm here, and I'm staying. I'm going to be right over you until you awaken, darling. You are not alone," she told him. Then she rose up to the head of his bed and tucked herself into the monitor. No one would see her ... because she didn't interact with the reality of anyone else in Sickbay at the moment. As she watched over Dallas and waited for him to become conscious again, she tried to absorb the events of the day.

=====

About ten minutes later, Paul walked into the main lobby of the Security Department. "I need to speak with Lt. Michaels," he said to the person at the front desk. "I have some art that he needs to see."

An Arachnae officer looked up from her knitting and came closer to the desk. "I'll take this, Mortmanus," she said to the Provost Officer behind the desk. "Doctor Graves? I don't know if you remember me... I'm Muffet Langston." She held out her right fore-hand, the Humanoid one. Even she wasn't sure if she was offering a handshake, or reaching for the art in question.

Paul shook the officer's hand. "Hello, Ms. Langston. It hasn't been that long since we met." She had joined the observation team in the Intelligence department during Zelda Alegari's interview four days previously. "I was told to ask for Lt. Michaels, but who I really need is the person or team assigned to investigate the attack on Lt. Dallas Briggs that occurred earlier today."

"That would be Lieutenant Michaels," Muffet agreed, "though I did the crime scene analysis. Our guy left plenty of DNA at the scene; I expect we'll catch him in a day or two."

"If he's still on the base. That's a big 'if,'" Paul said. He handed the folder to Langston. "This is a portrait of the attacker."

Muffet withdrew the print and looked at it. "Hello, ughly. Care to step into my parlor?" After a moment, she looked back at Graves. "With a major crime on the books, we've activated DNA recognition at all transit access points. If, as you say, he's still on the base, we'll get him if he uses a turbolift, or the tram, or a transporter. It's difficult to get around this place without those, so..." She shrugged.

"I certainly hope so," Paul said. "Lt. Briggs is a tall, muscular guy. A person who didn't think twice about taking him down is not someone we want at large."

 

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