Title: First-handed.
Author: Keenir.
Spoilers: Including Second star from the right but no further.
Summary: It has happened before, they say; and they're more right than they know, which means...
Rating: PG-13.
Part One.
Part Two.
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AUSTRALIA, 1905
Many heavy doors were opened and closed. The occupant of this tiny cell could feel a progression to the doors, that the opening and closing meant that there was someone coming her way. This prisoner began to stir from the slumber she had slept for some time.
She was sitting up in the furnitureless cell by the time the last door opened and her guest was standing before her. She said nothing.
"So you're the one called Tamara," said the guest, as human as all the other members of the Organization Tamara had thus far held the misfortune to encounter.
"Yes. Yes I am. Am called that," Tamara said. Even before the disaster, she had not had much interest in learning the niceties of communication with the humans, no matter how many worlds they filled. And slumber held no mind-editing sleep like the humans had.
"And what were you, Tamara? I'm told you only began putting on pounds in the weeks before we put an end to your outpost."
"Yes," Tamara said, not lifting her head or moving any other part of her body. Most of her, body included, were recent additions...As our community began to settle into the physics of this universe.
"And what about you?"
"Part unchanged," Tamara said, each hand on each elbow. She had no writing implements, but then, the Organization is dreadfully paranoid.
Her guest thought, Very well, leave it unanswered for now. We'll move on... "As I understand it, you were spared. Everything else in that little...lets call it an outpost, shall we? The entirety of your friends and loved ones and - well, whatever else your kind have - no longer exist on this world. The way it used to be," she said with the voice of satisfaction.
"Bored. Tired. Leave. Go."
"I'm afraid we can't ever let you go, Tamara. You understand."
"You go. You leave. Leave me." And then Tamara peered straight at her guest. "Leave like he did."
*That* bristled her guest, driving her corsetted spine even straighter. "If I thought you could find him, I'd let you out right now. And yes, I have that clearance." It would rid us of you, and it would find him for me.
"I can. Can find. Find like snarks do."
"And how do I know if you're lying to me right now?"
Tamara balled up one hand and tapped her knuckles against her own forehead. The echoing sound was crisp and clear. "Humans lie."
"Then I'll consider your offer. My report might well get you released in the next five hundred years. In which case, I'll expect you to find the person you know I want."
He won't be dead by then? Tamara looked at her and, with that same blank look, asked her, "And who? Who are you? You care? And why?"
Tamara's visitor smiled beatifically and said, "My dear, I'm Wendy Darling."
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the End.