Nano 2
I just hit a little bit over 12k. Not as much as I had wanted to reach, but I had to sacrifice four precious writing hours for university course work to go through a 21 page long case and write a paper on it. Curses! I hope tomorrow will be better.
Title: Endgame (2/30+)
Fandom: Star Ocean: Till the End of Time
Pairing: Luther/Fayt, mentions of Albel/Fayt
Rating: NC 17 overall
Warnings: A/U, blood, gore, slash, mindfuckery, incest, typos as far as the eye can see, no proof reading, cliches ... it's NANOWRIMO writing, that should be a warning of its own.
Summary: A series of seemingly unconnected murders draws Detective Leingod into a morbid game of hide and seek. As he hunts a phantom across the worlds, real or not, through high tech metropolis and abandoned asylum, he finds himself chasing more than just a murderer, but his own forgotten past. And what secret lies with the elusive Owner of Sphere, Luther Lansfield? Is he a powerful ally, ... or a deadly foe after all?
The sky was still grey, the sun barely over the horizon and the streets still mostly empty, just a few stragglers from the night before on their way home, or the first few workers, already on their way to another long day at the job, as Fayt, after some searching, pulled up in front of the apartment complex Dion Landers had lived in. Peterny Complexes was situated more on the urban side of the city, not yet over run with towers of steel and glass. The houses were of concret still, just a few levels in height, leaving the view of the sky unobstructed of the usual high walkways and abyss spanning bridges. Trees and bushes were scattered about, and even if the concret under his feet was cracked and the streets in quite a bit of disrepair Fayt felt as if he could breath easier here. It was soothing, a difference to the constant hustle and bustle of the city center, where sometimes it was hard to find the difference between night and day. He found his steps slowing unconsciously, strolling along the sidewalk as he searched for the correct house number. Maybe he should look into getting an apartment around here himself. Fayt wasn't too fond of the city. Certainly, he enjoyed the luxuries it offered and he did live rather close to his work. But it had lost a lot of charm since he had been younger. Back then he could not have imagined living anywhere else but in the heart of technology, when he himself had enjoyed the first steps of virtual technology and followed every fad there was. But with his entrance into the Force time had become scarce and before he knew it he found himself outpaced by technology and not at all interested in catching. What little free time he had he was most often than not too tired to do anything else but crash on the next aviable flat surface and not move until he absolutely had to. That, and he had discovered that relationships with real people were a lot more satisfying than those with virtual ones, at least most of the time. All of that had conspired to the result that the thought of moving out into the middle of no where actually sounded rather compealing to Fayt. It was quiet, the air was better and it would probably be nice to just sit under one of those trees and just relax.
Geeze, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips and he mockingly shook his head at his thoughts, he sounded like an old man lamenting his misspend youth. He wasn't that old yet and his so called misspend youth had barely passed. The thing he needed most was probably a vacation and some good, dreamless sleep. Maybe he would ask Chief Traydor for leave after he had figured out what had happened to Dion Landers, drive into the country side and do something mundane as fishing. By the end of a week he would probably be so bored that the thought of returning home would be sounding like sweet relief.
Things so settled in his mind he but his concentration back onto finding the correct house, finally finding the entrance to the correct apartment bulding hidden away at the very end of the complex. "Apartment 516, on the fifth floor..." A quick check of his notes confirmed it and with a huff Fayt started up the stairs. Either the complex was too old to have an elevator yet, or the owner was simply too cheap to have one installed. It took him a while to reach the correct floor, slightly out of breath, and silently Fayt swore to himself that he would put a bit more time in working out.
At least it was easy from there. THe correct apartment, even if the doors all looked the same, was easily found. The yellow take that sealed it, together with the officer guarding it made it more than a little obvious.
"Detective." The man looked tired, dark circles under his eyes and barely stiffling a yawn. He looked a bit younger than Fayt, probably had not been part of the Force for long. Fayt smiled, forgoing a greeting otherwise. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes. Nothing much happened. The neighbours got a bit curious." The man shrugged lightly. "But that settled down a while ago. Can't blame them." His voice dropped, obviously speaking more to himself than Fayt as he added. "Too bloody early to be awake yet."
"Good then."
He waited for the officer to tug out the key to the apartment to open the door for him. "Relief will probably be here in about an hour." He ducked through the yellow tape, careful to not trip himself on them. "You can go home then."
"Yes, sir." The man didn't sound too enthused and, amused, the blue haired man shook his head as he closed the door behind himself. He probably had hoped to be dismissed right away. Fayt could still remember that he had hated guard duty himself. It was a thankless job, being made to stand around, shoo away the curious and wait for others to do the jobs of interest. He was glad that that time was over for him and now he was the one leading the investigations.
The door closed with a silent click, cutting out the light of the corridors and leaving Fayt in darkness. The first thing he noticed, even without the light, was that inside it smelled heavily of flowers. At the first moment the sweet smell was nearly stiffling. It wasn't the smell of rotten ones, but the fragrance of so many different blooms that it was hard to tell which flowers it were exactly. When his hand found the switch, flooding his surrounding with light it became rather obvious why. The small entrance room was filled with flowers, garlands and bouquets hung on the ceillings to dry, roses, wheat, poppies, forget me nots, and a whole lot of other flowers that Fayt didn't know the names of. It made the small room even more cramped than it was to begin with and the detective had to be careful not to trip over a few pairs of shows as he made his way through. Three doors led from here, two leading to the toilet and the bathroom respectively, while the third led into a medium sized living room. Here too flowers were present, though this time at least they were kept to vases and pots, acting as a natural room divider for what was likely used for relaxion on one side and work the other. There was an old, but well cared for couch, throw rugs and pillows placed on it in an attempt to make it more comfortable, and a low table between it and an older TV. A few papers lay scattered on top of it and an half empty glass stood on top of them. They had already taken a sample from that and were waiting for the results to come back from the toxiology together with the blood screening. Absently Fayt's hand slipped into the pocket of his uniform jacket, closing around the small shape of his communicator to reassure himself that it was still there. Albel had promised to call him the moment he got the results back. If he was not there to take the call he would probably have to go back to the department and grovel on his knees for an hour or two. The forensic pathologist wasn't the type to grand favours easily and could be rather pissy when they were not received with grace.
he gracefully stepped past the natural screen. The other side of the room had nothing of the cozy feeling the first one had. A rather big work desk dominated one corner, fairly groaning under the weight of books, papers and other knick knacks that covered every aviable surface. He could only guess where the computer was under all the mess, and even the chair in front of it had notes scattered on the seat. The other thing that caught his attention was the virtual simulator. Fayt, having spent the night looking up the various models aviable, recognized it as one of the older, cheaper ES Link models. The fifth version, if he was not mistaken. It didn't offer much in the sense of extras, a reclining chair and a full face visor, which lay discarded on the floor. It probably had been dropped there by Ameena, when she had run out and found her boyfriend gasping for air. She must have thought to help him.
He crouched down, tugging out a pair of thin gloves to put on, before picking up the helmet. It was surprisingly light, mostly made of smooth white plastic, printed with the blueisch green logo of the Sphere Company, and a visor of the same colour. A look inside didn't reveal much else, just black padding. Nothing of the cable work or computer chips were in the open. He stared at the item for a few moment, turning it over in his hands thoughtfully, before placing it back onto the ground. There were other things scattered close by, papers mostly and one or two pencils. The report had said that Lander's girlfriend had been woken by some loud noises. maybe the man had disturbed the piles on the table close by and toppled them to the ground with his flailing. Fayt picked them up anyway, flipping through them as he stood up again and went over to the desk top. The papers were full of futuristic drawings and calculations, and Fayt's eyebrows raised in surprise. Some of them were quite impressive, even to his unschooled eye. The calculations quite mind boggling. Fayt himself was far from stupid, had even been considered something of a genius in school and his fast rise in the ranks of the police force attested to his intellegence and wits too. But he had to admit that he would have been hard pressed to solve some of those calculations, especially as Lander's seemed to have set them up from scratch, going according to his designs. Fture riffling through the papers yielded much of the same, only sometimes interrupted by what seemed to be university assignments, reports on famous inventions, calculus sheets and the like. Sighing Fayt put them back, eyes straying over the surface of the desk. The books all were on the subject of technical design and electronics, bearing not a single bookmark. The man was nearly about to give up on the desk, when a glint of metal caught his attention, the object nearly completely hidden under the sheets of paper. Carefully he tugged it free. It was a frame, a simple one, the kind you got at fleamarkets or in drift stores. Old and beaten up. Actually, the only thing of worht he had seen so far, was the Sphere Link. Lander's and his girlfriend did not look to do too well in the monetary department. Idly he flipped the frame over to take a look at the phto within.
For a moment Fayt felt as if his heart skipped a beat before beating again, louder and stronger.
The photograph was not anything special, it showed a girl, wandering in the small meadow that was in front of thise apartment complex. She was smiling at the one taking the photograph, light blue eyes alight with cheer and love, her brunette hair dancing on a breeze behind her. It was not that she was some breathtaking beauty, she was cute, but Chief Traydor with her exotic blue hair, cool personality and long legs, or Mirage, fiery and tall, the definition of a blond bombshell, had her both beat in the looks department. No, it was because he knew her. Fayt couldn't say from where, but at the very moment he could have sworn that he had met the girl somewhere before. How long he stood there, staring at the picture of the girl he knew and did not know, he was not sure. It was a brief commotion outside, voices muffled through the closed door, but enough for him to tear his eyes away and look back the way he had come from, enough to break the spell of whatever had gotten a hold of him. The sounds died down again a moment after, the relief had probably arrived.
Fayt sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. He had not noticed how tensed up he had become. God, what was wrong with him? He had to chuckle at his own ridiculous reaction. He had not seen Ameena, who else could be the girl in the photo but Dion Lander's girlfriend, anywhere at all. He would remember that surely. He was seeing ghosts. So assured, laughing at his own guilable nature Fayt me to put the picture back down, but hesitated.
"What...?"
It was crooked. He had not noticed at first, to distracted by the girl's face, but the picture was placed sloppily in its frame, one corner sticking over the wood, bent and obviously often touched. Carefully Fayt tugged at the picture, which slipped easily out of the frame.
"What is this?"
The back of the phtograph was filled with letters and numbers, seemingly at random. 643x 94y 122z 4412/0119t 1734 16-423 ssubd elic2 air13sub 2l and similiar lines filled the blank space in neat, precise script. The first few lines reminded Fayt of coordinates, but he couldn't make sense of the strings that followed. It looked like some form of code, it was simply too long to be some kind of password and obviously Lander's had added to the list at a later date. Not all the strings were written with the same pen.
After a moments hesitation Fayt put the photo in his pocket. He would get back to it at a later date, maybe show it to Cliff or Mirage, the two of them were rather knowledge able when it came to code breaking or technical stuff.
For now he had some other things to check.
~*~
It was late afternoon by the time Fayt got back to the precinct. Nursing another cup of coffee he shoved his way through the corridors of the building, past collegues who stood talking or were hurrying to get out onto the streets, shoving suspects and criminals before them. Sometimes he was stopped, friends waving at him and asking how he was doing, or a few who recognized him and greeted him out of respect. His answers were mostly distracted, dismissive, still it took him a while to reach his office, shared with a few other detectives on the twentythird floor. He fairly fell onto his chair, head falling back to come to rest on the backrest and closing his eyes. His feet hurt and after a moment of hesitation he kicked off his shoes. He probably wouldn't be able to put them back on later, but who cared.
After he had checked the rest of the rooms, only a bedroom and a non descriptive kitchen, he had driven to the hospital to talk with Ameena. A trip that had, unfortunately, proved to be futile. The nurse had told him quite pointedly that Miss Fair was in no condition to accept visitors, never mind being questioned by the police, and would likely not be so for the next few days. Trying to get a doctor to allow him to see her had not yielded any results either, but at least he had learned that Ameena had been sick to begin with and that the shock of seeing her dead boyfriend had made her condition, which had been frail to begin with, worse. As of now they were not sure if she would make it. They had been able to stabilze her, but her heart was weak. The doctors voice had been grave when she told him about the girl's condition. They had done what they could for her, the rest, was up to Ameena herself.
Fayt desperately hoped that she would make it, not because of the case, but because he did not want anyone to die, especially not such a gentle girl as her.
Having reached a dead end at the hospital he had driven to Lander's university instead. If he could not talk to Ameena he would talk to some of Dion's classmates and teachers. He had figured that, maybe it would help him to get a picture of the man and his personality. And the conversations had been enlightening indeed. While most people he asked seemed to know Dion Landers and had something to say about him, none considered him their friend. The students had painted the picture of a friendly young man, who was a loner, by choice and circumstances alike. He had been the best student in any of his classes by far, ahead of his peers and already working on his doctorate. It set him apart and made him a little hard to approach. Some students even desribed him as stuck up, but Fayt was not sure if that truly was the case or simply envy speaking. The professors had painted the picture of a dilliquent student with outstanding marks and a bright future. Pleasent to teach, if not a little bit shy, he had been considered somewhat of a local genius. The only one who might have been able to give him a bit more information was one Dr. Elena Frahm, Dion Lander's mentor. Unfortunately Mrs. Frahm had been unaviable. The woman was known to be rather eccentric and tended to vanish for days after days sometimes if something caught her attention. She was known to spend hours on end immersed in her calculations and the designs of new inventions. Nothing would distract her from it if she got started and the university's administration had accepted that. They would not risk losing one of the known geniuses of their current time just because she missed some of her lectures. They had no idea when she would be back, but had assured Fayt that he was free to leave a message for her and she would certainly get back to him as soon as possible when she learned that something had happened to her favourtie student. What a pity that had been, Dion would certainly be missed. --
Title: Endgame (2/30+)
Fandom: Star Ocean: Till the End of Time
Pairing: Luther/Fayt, mentions of Albel/Fayt
Rating: NC 17 overall
Warnings: A/U, blood, gore, slash, mindfuckery, incest, typos as far as the eye can see, no proof reading, cliches ... it's NANOWRIMO writing, that should be a warning of its own.
Summary: A series of seemingly unconnected murders draws Detective Leingod into a morbid game of hide and seek. As he hunts a phantom across the worlds, real or not, through high tech metropolis and abandoned asylum, he finds himself chasing more than just a murderer, but his own forgotten past. And what secret lies with the elusive Owner of Sphere, Luther Lansfield? Is he a powerful ally, ... or a deadly foe after all?
The sky was still grey, the sun barely over the horizon and the streets still mostly empty, just a few stragglers from the night before on their way home, or the first few workers, already on their way to another long day at the job, as Fayt, after some searching, pulled up in front of the apartment complex Dion Landers had lived in. Peterny Complexes was situated more on the urban side of the city, not yet over run with towers of steel and glass. The houses were of concret still, just a few levels in height, leaving the view of the sky unobstructed of the usual high walkways and abyss spanning bridges. Trees and bushes were scattered about, and even if the concret under his feet was cracked and the streets in quite a bit of disrepair Fayt felt as if he could breath easier here. It was soothing, a difference to the constant hustle and bustle of the city center, where sometimes it was hard to find the difference between night and day. He found his steps slowing unconsciously, strolling along the sidewalk as he searched for the correct house number. Maybe he should look into getting an apartment around here himself. Fayt wasn't too fond of the city. Certainly, he enjoyed the luxuries it offered and he did live rather close to his work. But it had lost a lot of charm since he had been younger. Back then he could not have imagined living anywhere else but in the heart of technology, when he himself had enjoyed the first steps of virtual technology and followed every fad there was. But with his entrance into the Force time had become scarce and before he knew it he found himself outpaced by technology and not at all interested in catching. What little free time he had he was most often than not too tired to do anything else but crash on the next aviable flat surface and not move until he absolutely had to. That, and he had discovered that relationships with real people were a lot more satisfying than those with virtual ones, at least most of the time. All of that had conspired to the result that the thought of moving out into the middle of no where actually sounded rather compealing to Fayt. It was quiet, the air was better and it would probably be nice to just sit under one of those trees and just relax.
Geeze, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips and he mockingly shook his head at his thoughts, he sounded like an old man lamenting his misspend youth. He wasn't that old yet and his so called misspend youth had barely passed. The thing he needed most was probably a vacation and some good, dreamless sleep. Maybe he would ask Chief Traydor for leave after he had figured out what had happened to Dion Landers, drive into the country side and do something mundane as fishing. By the end of a week he would probably be so bored that the thought of returning home would be sounding like sweet relief.
Things so settled in his mind he but his concentration back onto finding the correct house, finally finding the entrance to the correct apartment bulding hidden away at the very end of the complex. "Apartment 516, on the fifth floor..." A quick check of his notes confirmed it and with a huff Fayt started up the stairs. Either the complex was too old to have an elevator yet, or the owner was simply too cheap to have one installed. It took him a while to reach the correct floor, slightly out of breath, and silently Fayt swore to himself that he would put a bit more time in working out.
At least it was easy from there. THe correct apartment, even if the doors all looked the same, was easily found. The yellow take that sealed it, together with the officer guarding it made it more than a little obvious.
"Detective." The man looked tired, dark circles under his eyes and barely stiffling a yawn. He looked a bit younger than Fayt, probably had not been part of the Force for long. Fayt smiled, forgoing a greeting otherwise. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes. Nothing much happened. The neighbours got a bit curious." The man shrugged lightly. "But that settled down a while ago. Can't blame them." His voice dropped, obviously speaking more to himself than Fayt as he added. "Too bloody early to be awake yet."
"Good then."
He waited for the officer to tug out the key to the apartment to open the door for him. "Relief will probably be here in about an hour." He ducked through the yellow tape, careful to not trip himself on them. "You can go home then."
"Yes, sir." The man didn't sound too enthused and, amused, the blue haired man shook his head as he closed the door behind himself. He probably had hoped to be dismissed right away. Fayt could still remember that he had hated guard duty himself. It was a thankless job, being made to stand around, shoo away the curious and wait for others to do the jobs of interest. He was glad that that time was over for him and now he was the one leading the investigations.
The door closed with a silent click, cutting out the light of the corridors and leaving Fayt in darkness. The first thing he noticed, even without the light, was that inside it smelled heavily of flowers. At the first moment the sweet smell was nearly stiffling. It wasn't the smell of rotten ones, but the fragrance of so many different blooms that it was hard to tell which flowers it were exactly. When his hand found the switch, flooding his surrounding with light it became rather obvious why. The small entrance room was filled with flowers, garlands and bouquets hung on the ceillings to dry, roses, wheat, poppies, forget me nots, and a whole lot of other flowers that Fayt didn't know the names of. It made the small room even more cramped than it was to begin with and the detective had to be careful not to trip over a few pairs of shows as he made his way through. Three doors led from here, two leading to the toilet and the bathroom respectively, while the third led into a medium sized living room. Here too flowers were present, though this time at least they were kept to vases and pots, acting as a natural room divider for what was likely used for relaxion on one side and work the other. There was an old, but well cared for couch, throw rugs and pillows placed on it in an attempt to make it more comfortable, and a low table between it and an older TV. A few papers lay scattered on top of it and an half empty glass stood on top of them. They had already taken a sample from that and were waiting for the results to come back from the toxiology together with the blood screening. Absently Fayt's hand slipped into the pocket of his uniform jacket, closing around the small shape of his communicator to reassure himself that it was still there. Albel had promised to call him the moment he got the results back. If he was not there to take the call he would probably have to go back to the department and grovel on his knees for an hour or two. The forensic pathologist wasn't the type to grand favours easily and could be rather pissy when they were not received with grace.
he gracefully stepped past the natural screen. The other side of the room had nothing of the cozy feeling the first one had. A rather big work desk dominated one corner, fairly groaning under the weight of books, papers and other knick knacks that covered every aviable surface. He could only guess where the computer was under all the mess, and even the chair in front of it had notes scattered on the seat. The other thing that caught his attention was the virtual simulator. Fayt, having spent the night looking up the various models aviable, recognized it as one of the older, cheaper ES Link models. The fifth version, if he was not mistaken. It didn't offer much in the sense of extras, a reclining chair and a full face visor, which lay discarded on the floor. It probably had been dropped there by Ameena, when she had run out and found her boyfriend gasping for air. She must have thought to help him.
He crouched down, tugging out a pair of thin gloves to put on, before picking up the helmet. It was surprisingly light, mostly made of smooth white plastic, printed with the blueisch green logo of the Sphere Company, and a visor of the same colour. A look inside didn't reveal much else, just black padding. Nothing of the cable work or computer chips were in the open. He stared at the item for a few moment, turning it over in his hands thoughtfully, before placing it back onto the ground. There were other things scattered close by, papers mostly and one or two pencils. The report had said that Lander's girlfriend had been woken by some loud noises. maybe the man had disturbed the piles on the table close by and toppled them to the ground with his flailing. Fayt picked them up anyway, flipping through them as he stood up again and went over to the desk top. The papers were full of futuristic drawings and calculations, and Fayt's eyebrows raised in surprise. Some of them were quite impressive, even to his unschooled eye. The calculations quite mind boggling. Fayt himself was far from stupid, had even been considered something of a genius in school and his fast rise in the ranks of the police force attested to his intellegence and wits too. But he had to admit that he would have been hard pressed to solve some of those calculations, especially as Lander's seemed to have set them up from scratch, going according to his designs. Fture riffling through the papers yielded much of the same, only sometimes interrupted by what seemed to be university assignments, reports on famous inventions, calculus sheets and the like. Sighing Fayt put them back, eyes straying over the surface of the desk. The books all were on the subject of technical design and electronics, bearing not a single bookmark. The man was nearly about to give up on the desk, when a glint of metal caught his attention, the object nearly completely hidden under the sheets of paper. Carefully he tugged it free. It was a frame, a simple one, the kind you got at fleamarkets or in drift stores. Old and beaten up. Actually, the only thing of worht he had seen so far, was the Sphere Link. Lander's and his girlfriend did not look to do too well in the monetary department. Idly he flipped the frame over to take a look at the phto within.
For a moment Fayt felt as if his heart skipped a beat before beating again, louder and stronger.
The photograph was not anything special, it showed a girl, wandering in the small meadow that was in front of thise apartment complex. She was smiling at the one taking the photograph, light blue eyes alight with cheer and love, her brunette hair dancing on a breeze behind her. It was not that she was some breathtaking beauty, she was cute, but Chief Traydor with her exotic blue hair, cool personality and long legs, or Mirage, fiery and tall, the definition of a blond bombshell, had her both beat in the looks department. No, it was because he knew her. Fayt couldn't say from where, but at the very moment he could have sworn that he had met the girl somewhere before. How long he stood there, staring at the picture of the girl he knew and did not know, he was not sure. It was a brief commotion outside, voices muffled through the closed door, but enough for him to tear his eyes away and look back the way he had come from, enough to break the spell of whatever had gotten a hold of him. The sounds died down again a moment after, the relief had probably arrived.
Fayt sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. He had not noticed how tensed up he had become. God, what was wrong with him? He had to chuckle at his own ridiculous reaction. He had not seen Ameena, who else could be the girl in the photo but Dion Lander's girlfriend, anywhere at all. He would remember that surely. He was seeing ghosts. So assured, laughing at his own guilable nature Fayt me to put the picture back down, but hesitated.
"What...?"
It was crooked. He had not noticed at first, to distracted by the girl's face, but the picture was placed sloppily in its frame, one corner sticking over the wood, bent and obviously often touched. Carefully Fayt tugged at the picture, which slipped easily out of the frame.
"What is this?"
The back of the phtograph was filled with letters and numbers, seemingly at random. 643x 94y 122z 4412/0119t 1734 16-423 ssubd elic2 air13sub 2l and similiar lines filled the blank space in neat, precise script. The first few lines reminded Fayt of coordinates, but he couldn't make sense of the strings that followed. It looked like some form of code, it was simply too long to be some kind of password and obviously Lander's had added to the list at a later date. Not all the strings were written with the same pen.
After a moments hesitation Fayt put the photo in his pocket. He would get back to it at a later date, maybe show it to Cliff or Mirage, the two of them were rather knowledge able when it came to code breaking or technical stuff.
For now he had some other things to check.
~*~
It was late afternoon by the time Fayt got back to the precinct. Nursing another cup of coffee he shoved his way through the corridors of the building, past collegues who stood talking or were hurrying to get out onto the streets, shoving suspects and criminals before them. Sometimes he was stopped, friends waving at him and asking how he was doing, or a few who recognized him and greeted him out of respect. His answers were mostly distracted, dismissive, still it took him a while to reach his office, shared with a few other detectives on the twentythird floor. He fairly fell onto his chair, head falling back to come to rest on the backrest and closing his eyes. His feet hurt and after a moment of hesitation he kicked off his shoes. He probably wouldn't be able to put them back on later, but who cared.
After he had checked the rest of the rooms, only a bedroom and a non descriptive kitchen, he had driven to the hospital to talk with Ameena. A trip that had, unfortunately, proved to be futile. The nurse had told him quite pointedly that Miss Fair was in no condition to accept visitors, never mind being questioned by the police, and would likely not be so for the next few days. Trying to get a doctor to allow him to see her had not yielded any results either, but at least he had learned that Ameena had been sick to begin with and that the shock of seeing her dead boyfriend had made her condition, which had been frail to begin with, worse. As of now they were not sure if she would make it. They had been able to stabilze her, but her heart was weak. The doctors voice had been grave when she told him about the girl's condition. They had done what they could for her, the rest, was up to Ameena herself.
Fayt desperately hoped that she would make it, not because of the case, but because he did not want anyone to die, especially not such a gentle girl as her.
Having reached a dead end at the hospital he had driven to Lander's university instead. If he could not talk to Ameena he would talk to some of Dion's classmates and teachers. He had figured that, maybe it would help him to get a picture of the man and his personality. And the conversations had been enlightening indeed. While most people he asked seemed to know Dion Landers and had something to say about him, none considered him their friend. The students had painted the picture of a friendly young man, who was a loner, by choice and circumstances alike. He had been the best student in any of his classes by far, ahead of his peers and already working on his doctorate. It set him apart and made him a little hard to approach. Some students even desribed him as stuck up, but Fayt was not sure if that truly was the case or simply envy speaking. The professors had painted the picture of a dilliquent student with outstanding marks and a bright future. Pleasent to teach, if not a little bit shy, he had been considered somewhat of a local genius. The only one who might have been able to give him a bit more information was one Dr. Elena Frahm, Dion Lander's mentor. Unfortunately Mrs. Frahm had been unaviable. The woman was known to be rather eccentric and tended to vanish for days after days sometimes if something caught her attention. She was known to spend hours on end immersed in her calculations and the designs of new inventions. Nothing would distract her from it if she got started and the university's administration had accepted that. They would not risk losing one of the known geniuses of their current time just because she missed some of her lectures. They had no idea when she would be back, but had assured Fayt that he was free to leave a message for her and she would certainly get back to him as soon as possible when she learned that something had happened to her favourtie student. What a pity that had been, Dion would certainly be missed. --