| It Takes One to Know One Part 9 - by Jemmiah |
| Just as Jemmiah had expected, her little ruse did not fool An-Paj one little bit. It was surprising how firm a grip the man had, even although Jemmiah had expected him to be a sympathetic, kindly sort of person where his patients were concerned. Still, as he marched her swiftly across the lawn away from the debacle of tree-diving initiates and senile, uncontrollable jedi masters, Jemmy could feel the gentle yet conversely uncompromising feeling of his fingers circling around her wrist. Here, Jemmiah struggled to think through her fogged-brain, was a very clever man indeed, knowing exactly what it took to get the patients to do what was best for themselves. The pressure against her skin wasn't enough to cause any pain but more than enough to make sure her progress towards the safety of the infirmary was assured… "Hey!" Jemmy gave a startled cry, looking back over her shoulder. "Wait, An-Paj sir! I can't go just yet…" "Yes you can." An-Paj replied firmly, not to be deterred by any pleading or coquettish eyelash fluttering aimed his direction. "Come along now. It's for your own good…" "When people say it's for your own good," Jemmiah answered, her reply mumbled into her shoulder, "it usually means the opposite…ooooh, more butterflies!" The girl pointed excitedly to a spot in the garden totally devoid of anything other than crisp, newly mowed grass. "That's it." An-Paj shook his head, antennae jiggling in consternation. "You are going to have a nice long soak in a bath to steam out the impurities. Then you are going to stay in an equally nice infirmary bed, in extremely nice, starched sheets that you won't be able to get out of if I have to use a pry-bar!" "B-but the Bantha…" Jemmiah waved to the giant creature as it careened all over the gardens, tossing its horned head disdainfully at anyone who got too near. "Nevermind the Bantha." An-Paj was not to be dissuaded. "He can't come with us…" "She." Corrected Jemmy, not caring if she was making it up as she went. "Whatever, I'm afraid he/she cannot come with us. There's no room in the infirmary." "You let Ferdi in!" Countered Jemmy, still protesting. "Oh, do let him in! He'll get lonely out on his own…you've got no idea how horrible it is to be alone!" "You said 'he' was a 'she', if you remember." He reminded her, upping his pace in a bid to put the temple gardens long behind him. What would Qui-Gon think when he got back and found that the child he'd left behind had managed to somehow get caught up in…in…force knew what: some kind of mass hallucination of the kind that he'd never experienced before in his life! Something in the gardens…probably airborne. The plants, perhaps? Even with his little cream-colored facemask slipped firmly over his mouth and nose, An-Paj was prepared to admit feeling a touch on the lightheaded side himself. And if it had that sort of affect on an adult, just think of those poor innocent initiates, children exactly like Jemmiah… Okay, maybe innocent was not the right word to use in Jemmiah's case. There was something about those bewildered copper eyes that seemed altogether too lively…too satisfied. Most likely it was an effect of the toxin that was currently affecting the youngsters, but still… "Qui-Gon will not like this." He muttered, as they reached the outer security door which separated the temple building from the gardens, violently stabbing the three-digit entry code as if his life depended upon it. "I know what he's like. He'll feel so guilty for leaving you behind…what WERE you doing in the gardens anyway?" The healer demanded, ushering her forward with his hand. "Me…emmmm….I was…" Jemmiah looked the picture of confusion, as she spun about in search of an invisible revolving door. "I wanted to get away." "Away from what?" An-Paj all but picked her up and tucked her under his arm, guiding her carefully in the direction of the turbo lift. "Sal-Fina." Jemmy sighed, the corners of her mouth extending almost impossibly towards her feet. "I don't like her. She hates me. And I caught her trying to read my diary! And I bet she won't want all those butterflies following me home. Look!" The Corellian's finger extended to the circular imbedded lighting on the ceiling. "You're still seeing butterflies?" An-Paj muttered to himself, feeling increasingly worried. "Better make that an extra hot bath! Sweat the wretched stuff out!" "I'm not getting into a bath with you!" Jemmiah looked indignant. "I'm not a baby! I can wash by myself." Her chin extended so far in defiance that it was almost comical to watch, but there was no room for argument in this instance. Not for the first time on finding out that Sal-Fina was the girl's temporary guardian had he come to rue the fact his wives weren't in control of her instead. Why, six of them should just about be a match for one solitary Corellian? Maybe. "I'm not asking you to take a bath with me!" An-Paj chuckled, shaking his head. "But you are going to be bathed. And I'm afraid that you are going to supervised by somebody else. If you became dizzy then you might slip under the water and drown. And then Qui-Gon would feel extremely aggrieved. You wouldn't want that, would you?" "I'm not having a bath without Snordle." Jemmiah tried to shake her hand away from his, but without any success. "Besides which, if I drowned then maybe it would serve Sal-Fina right for being such a witch to me! Look, I'll be okay, I'm only a little bit dizzy, that's all." "I don't believe that for a second." An-Paj replied grimly, his sensitive antennae alerting him to the untruth in her voice. "And just because you think the whole galaxy is out to get you - and suppose yourself friendless - don't imagine for a moment that I don't care for your welfare. Because," An-Paj smiled warmly, hoping to regain her trust, "after seeing you safely through to this stage amidst all your trials and tribulations and medication and sickness, I want to see you making continual progress. Drowning yourself to spite Sal-Fina would throw away all my good work, all your determination to overcome the odds…and it would grieve Obi-Wan and his master terribly!" "But they left me." Jemmiah whispered, regarding him with large hurt eyes. "They left me behind…" An-Paj let his shoulders droop on hearing her heartfelt utterance. She was an intelligent girl…she must know that they'd had no choice in being sent away. Qui-Gon would have mixed feelings about the matter, but he would do what the force willed him (even if it was not always what the council willed!). And Obi-Wan? He would follow dutifully in the footsteps of his master. Their lives would be frequently subject to such departures and much as it hurt him to say it, An-Paj knew Jemmiah would just have to get used to it. There was no other alternative. "Child," he twitched his lips sympathetically, "sometimes things happen over which we have no control. There's no use in fretting over what you can't change. The only thing you can do is to concentrate on achieving all the things that would make Qui-Gon proud of you in his absence. So, what do you think he would say is the sensible thing to do now?" Jemmiah's lips hardly moved. "Have a bath." She answered in ventriloquist fashion. "Pardon?" "Have a bath!" She repeated crossly. "Shoozer, you want it in triplicate? Sign it in blood or something?" "No, no…nothing so melodramatic." An-Paj stood patiently by the side of the turbo lift, watching the floor numbers ticking gradually down towards their floor. "Signing in blood is only required for padawans." He watched her eyes grow round with horror and gestured at the opening lift door. "In you get." He was joking, Jemmiah thought as she warily edged past him. That was all. At least she hoped he was joking…then again there was rather an unpleasant rumor that Ferdi ate the patients that never made it… Nervously, Jemmy put her fingers to her lips and managed a watery, weak-sounding whistle. "For the Ronto." She explained AS An-Paj questioned her with a single, raised white eyebrow. "Ronto?" "Yeah…" Jemmy nodded seriously. "He can come, can't he?" The healer looked backwards down the turning passageway from whence they had came, not knowing whether he should be grateful there wasn't a Ronto in sight or whether he should be unhappy. "Yes, he can come." Resignedly, An-Paj nodded in the affirmative, holding the lift door open with one finger on the stall key, whilst waving towards the empty white passage that faced them as they stood in the lift, staring back. The man sighed, hoping he didn't appear as insane as he actually felt. "Well, come on if you're coming," he beckoned the imaginary Ronto into the lift, waiting five seconds before letting the doors slide shut. "And don't step on the butterflies…" Several hours later and a somewhat exhausted looking Ferdi dragged herself into the healer's rest-room on leaden, heavy legs, throwing herself down on the nearest available chair. Trying her best to ignore the protesting squeal of the metal frame beneath her copious - if shapely - rear, Healer Xadaani released such a monster sigh that An-Paj, who was sat opposite, thought she resembled a deflating rubber cushion. Ferdi's posture slumped, her shoulders seemingly disappearing altogether whilst the robust frame looked as if it had turned to liquid jelly. Relief was the only word that could be used to describe how she was feeling…how they were all feeling. It had to have been one of the most trying days that the temple infirmary had ever witnessed in its millennia-spanning history! "Tired?" An-Paj asked, shifting around on his seat so that he could face her directly. Ferdi gave a derisive snort. "Never in all my days…" The woman ran chubby fingers through the near-black hair that lightly skimmed her shoulders. "…I've seen nothing like it! Dizzy crèche masters…padawans vomiting in the rose bushes…several reports of seeing pink Flipperphants wading in the wildlife pond…initiates running about, throwing each other out of trees..." "Ah, yes." An-Paj smiled pleasantly at his colleague, watching as Ferdi rubbed agitatedly at her ankle. "How is the bite mark? Will it go, do you think? Or do you need a bacta patch to take down the swelling?" Ferdi tried her best to ignore An-Paj's rather wicked, teasing sense of humor. The fact that she'd been savaged by two of the youngest crèche children, one on each ankle, had not gone unnoticed by either the healers who had gone in to help their associates or those padawans who were in a sober enough state of mind to realize what was going on around them. Gethin Territ in particular seemed to find the image amusing - and for once An-Paj didn't have the heart to disagree with the young man. Fortunately for Ferdi, one of the initiates was missing the majority of his teeth and so her left ankle had been subjected to only a major 'gumming' instead, otherwise things might have been a lot more unpleasant… "We did manage to get Master Montal back more or less in one piece." Grunted Ferdi unenthusiastically. "Eventually. Once we threw the large butterfly net over his head he came quietly enough. I've informed Knight Kizzen that it might be a better idea to keep the old man away from the gardens for the time being." Ferdi's brows knitted inextricably together for an instant. "Although why he cheered with delight is quite beyond me." "Ah." An-Paj's smiled broadened easily into a wide, delightful grin. "Well, if you had to take Master Montal out in the repulsar chair every day, knowing what he was like, wouldn't you be ecstatic?" "Ahem!" Ferdi grumbled, pointing indignantly at her own breastbone in an outpouring of injustice and wounded feelings. "Who has to bath the old curmudgeon? Ever since he moved into the infirmary I've been responsible for looking after him. Wouldn't mind so much," she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind a somewhat fleshy ear, "if he didn't grin all the time while I did it!" Whilst the image of Master Montal taking a bath wasn't necessarily one An-Paj wanted to linger over for any great length of time, it did however bring something else to mind that he'd momentarily managed to push to the back of his thoughts. "How did it go with Jemmiah?" An-Paj wondered, interlacing his fingers amongst each other. "Did she finally allow you to be in the same room as her? Or did she insist that you hide behind the curtain whilst she sat and stewed in a hot tub?" For a moment Ferdi forgot about the teeth marks in her abused anatomy, pausing mid massage. "Hmmm." She replied cautiously, not exactly certain what she should reply. "Let's just say that she wasn't terribly happy about it…and it took me quite a while to figure out why, too. I thought at first," Ferdi chewed distractedly at her lower lip as she recalled the incident, "that it was because she was ashamed that she was so small for her age. In fact that was what she told me - that she didn't want people staring at her like she was some kind of stunted Jawa - and for a while I actually believed it." "It seems reasonable." An-Paj agreed, remembering Soul Healer Sidatu's report on the Corellian child, and the frustration she had felt at not being particularly well developed for her ten years. "It does seem to be an issue as far as she's concerned." "Yes, that's what I was thinking." Ferdi nodded back at him. "But then it transpired that the reason she didn't want anyone to see her undressed is because she has a tattoo…" "What?!?" An-Paj exclaimed, a brief bark of disbelieving laughter escaping his throat. "A tattoo? Does Qui-Gon know about this? Where on Coruscant did she go to get that done? I can't see him being pleased - far from it!" "It's not that kind of tattoo." Ferdi replied with sensitivity that most people might not have credited the woman with having. An-Paj blinked, very much confused. "Well, what kind to tattoo is it?" He wondered, his antennae pausing at half-mast as if trying to sense the meaning behind Ferdi's words. "What kind can you get? I can't see Qui-Gon liking it no matter what, even if it declared 'Jemmiah loves Quiggy' in bold, red lettering!" He let his eyes wander over her face, scrutinizing her. "Is it very noticeable, then?" "It says '55450Property Rufus Merdan." The healer stared at him directly, not so much as flinching at his hawk-like gaze. "And yes, it is very noticeable indeed. But fortunately only when it contact with really hot water." "Aqubrand?" An-Paj looked extremely taken aback. "A bit primitive in this day and age. But I suppose considering her background it's reasonable. It's a way of identifying a person without it marking the flesh in plain sight. That would account for why we never noticed it when she was first in the infirmary as a patient. Still, rather unpleasant I should think." Ferdi placed her tender foot against the floor, testing it once again. Darned initiates! She didn't think she'd ever met one that she liked in all her years as a healer. "She told me that she didn't even know of its existence before she arrived on Coruscant." Ferdi replied quietly after a moment's reflection. "That whilst she was shut away on that dreadful planet they only ever had sonic showering equipment. So the first time she spotted what had been done," Ferdi actually managed an expression something akin to sympathy, "was when she had her first hot bath on arriving here. Not the hospital sponge baths she had to endure whilst she was ill. Just imagine the shock…" "I can well imagine it." An-Paj, a father himself, could not but help feel a certain amount of bitterness at the thought of somebody inflicting such treatment on a child. He'd come to know Jemmiah well over the past few months. He'd spoken to her, monitored her progress…and it was perfectly clear to him that she was more than just a serial number on a slave's brand mark. He doubted very much that this Rufus Merdan would ever see it like that. At the end of the day Jemmiah was just another commodity to be bought and sold; disposed of as he wished. "I don't think," he added hesitantly, "that we'll pass this information on to Master Jinn. I think that it would merely embarrass the girl and perhaps we've inadvertently caused her enough of that already." "My sentiments also." Admitted Ferdi, ruefully. "Besides, she made me promise not to tell him, or Obi-Wan." Ferdi frowned again. "Then she changed the subject and asked me if I thought Healer Territ was handsome…" An-Paj, pleased to find a lighter topic to discuss, tipped his head back and laughed. "Oh, dear…it seems that Jemmiah has a bit of a crush, I would say." His voice couldn't conceal the amusement he was feeling at the discovery. "Poor Gethin - he doesn’t know what he's up against!" The use of Healer Territ's name jolted Ferdi into total alertness. "Gethin was the only one who didn't display any symptoms in the gardens." Ferdi snapped her fingers suddenly, as if the dawn of revelation had suddenly enlightened her. "He and Knight Kizzen! They were both unaffected! Perhaps," She ventured boldly, "this has some bearing on the substance that caused the disaster in the gardens?" An-Paj picked up the breathing mask he had been wearing whilst tackling the strange phenomena head on. Certainly the substance had been hallucinogenic…the various independent reactions of those affected had confirmed that much! Airborne yes: just as he had feared. But this had been no deliberate attack against the temple. A serious protagonist would almost definitely have loosed the tiny spores into air conditioning and then watched as the mayhem ensued. The same for any practical joker. No, these things had been planted - actually physically planted - cared for, and left to grow to maturity. And the results of the swabs taken from the pollen grains on his clothing and mask had told a very pretty tale: "Drek." He stated confidently. "What we have is Drek poisoning. Some idiot has planted Tree Winders in the gardens. Probably a mix up with the padawans under Quillan's supervision, that's all. But the result was far from the one expected, I would say." An-Paj shrugged. "And both Gethin and Knight Kizzen have been exposed to Drek poisoning before: it's in their records. That's why they have a high tolerance to the stuff." Eyes widening dramatically, Ferdi cast her mind back to the surprisingly high-spirited and aggressive initiates she'd had to bathe one after the other. Drek?!? On reflection it seemed an obvious candidate. Certainly it explained the hallucinations and the giddiness. But what did that spell for all those who had suffered its effects? "I've had the initiates sedated." She laughed ironically at the notion. "Drugged them to counter the drug, as it were. It was either that or physically tie them to the bed, and we didn't have enough healers to supervise so…" "And Jemmiah?" Asked An-Paj curiously. "Has Sal-Fina come to visit her yet?" Ferdi's scornful expression more or less told An-Paj what he needed to know. "She's been sent for." Xadaani grumbled, folding muscular, broad arms across one another to form an indignant barrier. "But so far nothing." An-Paj looked down at the floor. It was always difficult to know what to do in a situation like the one Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan and Jemmiah was now facing. On one hand, Jinn had a duty to the child he'd sworn to protect. On the other, he knew that he simply had to put his jedi life, and the wishes of the council, first at all times. Balancing the two was nigh on impossible: the council had seen it, the healers had seen it…everyone had seen it except for the ever-loyal Qui-Gon. Perhaps he simply hadn't wanted to see the truth. The fact was however, that he was entitled in his absence to expect that the right thing be done where his young ward was concerned. And had the right thing been done? Foisted onto Sal-Fina? What was the reasoning behind that? A bad decision wouldn't jeopardize Master Windu's place on the council. But it would inevitably weaken his standing and indeed his credibility to make future important decisions. Would the confidence in the newest Council member simply evaporate? One thing was for sure; Qui-Gon would fight his own corner if he felt justice had not been served to Jemmiah. "I hope you know what you are doing, Mace." An-Paj's lips thinned as he spoke to himself. "I think you are going to hear a lot more of this in the very near future." |
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