The Eye and the Mind
Posted on Mon 15th Feb, 2021 @ 5:45am by Lieutenant Damion Ildaran & Purulence Addams
Edited on on Mon 15th Feb, 2021 @ 5:49am
1,138 words; about a 6 minute read
Mission:
Business Not At All As Usual
Location: Damion Ildaran's office, Intelligence Department
Timeline: Halloween Eve, 2394
Purulence Addams took care to dress in a business suit for her visit to Lt. Ildaran in the Intelligence Department. A year or so before, she had visited the Security Department with a sketch; she'd learned something from that encounter--If people considered you a professional businesswoman and not a freaked-out artist, they accorded you more respect and attended to things faster. Today, she was all business. Today, people nodded politely at her rather than staring at her as if she didn't belong. Purulence decided she liked that. She held her back straighter and met people's gazes calmly.
If a business suit can make me feel like this, I should wear one every day, Purulence thought.
The tram ride up to the Fleet decks was a new experience. Purulence had never been up to Deck 20 before; it was a rarified height for a civilian. By the time she got off at Deck 100 and transferred to the lift that would take her the final 80 decks up, she was just about the only civilian still on the tram. At last, she exited at Deck 20 and went to the main lobby of the Intelligence department.
"I'm Purulence Addams. I have an appointment to see Lt. Damion Ildaran," she said to the duty officer.
"Thank you, Ma'am," the woman said without batting an eye. "If you'll have a seat he'll be right out."
Purulence glanced at the wall art and concluded that it was boring--all motivational posters. The one captioned "Commitment" made her snicker, though, as it showed people jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft into open sky. Well, they certainly were committed.
A door hissed open to her left. "Miss Addams?" a male voice said. Purulence looked in his direction. Good, clean jawline, dark hair, eyes that could be distant or friendly as the occasion demanded. Right now he was looking her over in turn. There was the instant of surprise that she always got from people because of her extremely dark skin, and then lively curiosity, masked behind a professionally neutral expression.
"I'm Lt. Ildaran," the man added. "Would you like to come on back?"
"Thank you," Purulence said and followed him behind the hissy door.
Ildaran's office was much more interesting than Lt. Michaels' had been in Security. Ildaran kept plants--in this case a pot of basil and some Denobulan roses that smelled heavenly together. He also had a knitted sweater draped over the back of his chair. It had a sense of him all over it.
'You knit?" Purulence asked with a glance toward the sweater.
"My mother taught me how," Lt. Ildaran said with a brief smile. "May I get you some coffee?"
Purulence shook her head. "No, thank you." Sne set her SketchPADD case on Ildaran's desk. "My sister Ischemia asked me to draw a sketch of a man described to me by Ms. Helle Endrade. I finished the sketch yesterday, and Ischemia told me to bring it to you."
Ildaran let out a slow breath. "Ah. All right, then. That was fast work. Thank you. May I have a look at it?"
Purulence flipped open her folio case and tapped the controls a few times. "Here he is."
She watched as Ildaran looked at the image. His eyes widened. The blood drained from his already pale face to the point that Purulence began to worry that he might faint. He remained perfectly still as he studied the portrait, however. Then he abruptly began typing on his computer keyboard at breakneck speed.
"Do you recognize this person at all?" Ildaran asked, his voice clipped and brisk.
"Never seen him before in my life," Purulence said, "but you obviously know who he is."
"Unfortunately, I do. Thank you for bringing this drawing to me. Would you forward the file to my email?" He gave her a secured address. Purulence took a moment to remove her signature and save the file, then she forwarded the unsigned image to him.
"So what happens now?" Purulence asked.
"Now we figure out how to bring this man in--and that will be only the tip of the iceberg," Ildaran said. He looked directly at Purulence. "Memorize that face, and don't ever let yourself or anyone you care about fall into his hands."
Purulence nodded. She deleted the file and closed her PADD. "My family are Addamses, Lieutenant. We take care of our own."
Ildaran gave her a crooked smile. "Good. I actually think the three of you might be a match for that blaggard--but let's not tempt fate. Please tell Ischemia that I will make good use of what you've given me. I thank all three of you for your help in this case."
"Thank us by catching him--you, or Starfleet, or whoever," Purulence said.
Purulence returned to Chlamydia's home. it will be time for me to leave soon, she thought as she contemplated the dead tree and the leaves skittering across the front walk in the artificial wind. She entered the house and went upstairs to her bedroom, where she shut the door.
"Computer--Replicate for me a memory sheet that will fit into a lockable durasteel folio frame, 8.5 x 11 inches, designed to hold an 8 x 10-inch drawing, highest possible resolution."
She copied the 'police sketch' from her PADD into the memory sheet. Then she wrote a letter.
Dear Mother,
The portrait in this folio case is the man described to me by Helle Endrade, aka our Zelda. Ischemia told me to destroy all copies and to remove my signature from this one, but I can't destroy my own artwork; I put too much of myself into it. I have, however, destroyed all other copies; this is the only one left, save what Lt. Ildaran has.
This particular piece contains elements of Zelda/Helle and everything the universe gave me to see of the subject as reflected in Helle's eyes and filtered through my own. I'm surprised it looks anything like the actual person, but Ischemia and Lt. Ildaran tell me it does.
Please store this in the locked family vault and not with my paintings. It is not to be sold. I think perhaps you and Grandmama should look at it; possibly Dad, also. I leave that to your discretion. I want it stored as ... insurance. I'm told the Cardassians have a habit of passing along secrets of their enemies to their heirs on their deathbeds. I think we should perhaps keep this portrait for similar reasons. If the universe is very fortunate, I hope this portrait will become nothing more than a historical forensic curiosity.
All my love, and thank you,
Purulence
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