Back to the operating table. This time Eeri was plunged into unconsciousness; there was no point in her hearing Varnili cutting off his skullcap. The matisse had bitterly mocked Mazé'yum, until he told her he'd had enough:
- Enough is enough. If she's resurrected by the Powers That Be, we can start again. If she makes the slightest move, it could happen. And if she loses her mind, it'll all be for nothing. Especially as I didn't just give her something to put her to sleep.
The rest was a little wonder learned from Tao Sian. Obviously, the Dynastic Healer hadn't taught this to the Black Circle scientists directly, but the information was circulating. A few years earlier, the illustrious Zoraïe had tried a remedy on Supplice to slow down her illness, using a rare Prima flower. The mixture had indeed slowed the ailment... and the Sage, stuck in a time that stretched out slowly, very slowly. Not exactly the desired effect at the time.
But in this case, it was perfect. From the moment a homin's skull was opened, a countdown began. What better way to kill someone... and for the Powers to bring him back after far too little time. For a long time, Varnili and Mazé'yum had to (discreetly) explore the inside of hominin heads with an hourglass beside them and in ten-minute increments. At the end of this time, and provided they hadn't done too much damage beforehand, they had to use a healing spell, or see their victim recalled by the Powers. It was virtually impossible to reach the life seed in such a short time and without doing too much damage. As for acting on it...
Here, the Puo-Kean was going to give them time. It was timed too (and quite precisely, thanks to other unwitting guinea pigs), but it offered a lot more room for manoeuvre.
Cutting, cutting, carefully, cautiously, never going too far. Admire the sight that so few homins knew: a seed of active life, at the heart of the brain, whose ramifications extended in all directions. Mazé'yum had prepared an entire magnifying device so as to be able to see the details. The seed of life had yet to reveal its mysteries, but at least he knew what it should look like, more or less. A tiny grain with innumerable striations, whose infinitesimal threads ran to various areas of the cortex and body, binding to the nerves until they merged with them. He took lucios, in every possible way, so as to be able to observe any damage more calmly once Eeri had been sewn back together (and saved from resurrection). They had to repeat the whole operation three times, to prevent the resurrection from setting in, before the Zorai felt he had seen everything and had enough shots. He paused again, watching the lucios pensively. This was really, really complex. A homin with less pride than him could have admitted defeat, right then and there. How could he do better than the Karavan, when he didn't have all their knowledge, nor their tools?
But that wasn't going to stop Mazé'yum. Certainly, he couldn't understand why this arm wasn't responding. Since no two seeds of life resembled each other exactly, it was hard to say whether the differences on Eeri's were due to damage or to the nature of the hominin. It was also hard to know how to change that. From experience, he knew that touching a life seed was... very random. They were extremely solid, almost unalterable, until they suddenly shattered into thousands of pieces that dissolved in the process, for no really identifiable reason.
Varnili didn't scoff for the moment, waiting for the Zorai's instructions. Despite her sadism and contempt, even she felt the sacredness of the seed of life. The two scientists felt almost sacrilegious approaching this mystery, daring to intervene in it, and only their ambition to go ever further, to fight any arbitrary limits that might be placed on them (be they the limits of a still somewhat hominous feeling) drove them on.
- Ukio," mumbled Mazé'yum, who at times like this rediscovered the accents of her native tongue. I can only see this... it has to work.
"It was a vial with black and purplish highlights, untouched until then. "Above all, it was the culmination of long years of research spanning several generations. The sciences of the Zorais, the Matis, the marauders and the trytonnists, the various tribes of the Bark and the more or less avowed research of some, combined to transcend homine limitations. "This, if Mazé'yum hadn't made a mistake in his formulas, would have the same effect on a life seed as a healing spell did on a homin body. Or break it.
- We're going back. Don't cut any wires.
- You want to take my place, Ser la tremblotte?
- Varnili...
Too much tension, which would have to be released at some point. But not now. La matisse began cutting again. Slicing, slicing, until the seed of life appeared once more.
- One drop," breathed the Zoraï. Just a drop.
The pipette dropped its black tear onto the glistening seed of life. For a moment, the liquid seemed to slide down the corpuscle, then was suddenly absorbed, transforming the color of its support, as well as its texture. It was one of those moments when the absence of a Goddess to whom one could address one's prayers was keenly felt.
- Close... We'll have to see...
Varnili repositioned the materials around the seed of life and its web, letting a gentle flow of care slide along her instruments, until she closed the skull and skin of the fyros, still asleep and slowed down, but whose breath had become heavy and jerky.
Mazé'yum slid down a bench, not even trying to hide the trembling of her hands. Varnili couldn't keep still, at times clutching the table with all her might, as if this would speed up the fyros' awakening.
The wait was unbearable. But their patient was breathing. Breathing harder and harder, as if the air were struggling to reach her. Then, suddenly, Eeri arched her back, cracking the bonds that held her, and letting out a cry from the depths of her soul. Mazé'yum rushed in, working to limit the damage of the convulsions, even reluctantly giving new drugs to calm the fyrette. He would have preferred to limit the products, unsure of the interactions, but she was going to kill herself if she went on like this.
For three days, he watched over her, waiting for her to regain consciousness. Each time she emerged, Eeri screamed incoherently and struggled with all her might, until the Zoraï gave her painkillers again. It was impossible to find a happy medium: either it knocked him out, or it wasn't enough. He was beginning to accept that he had failed, but still refused to give up. As long as she was alive... And then, despite the fact that Eeri wasn't coming to her senses, there was one successful aspect: she clenched her right fist fiercely in those moments of suffering.
Varnili had left them, that part didn't interest her; the suffering of others only excited her when she took an active part in it. Patiently, Mazé'yum watched over her pupil, reading and rereading his notes to find an idea, something he might have forgotten, that could improve the situation.
And then, little by little, the pain seemed to subside. Eventually, Eeri woke up, his eye haggard. The second eye was still dead, but it's true that they hadn't worked on this mechanical part (and that it seemed more complex than an arm). She was in no condition to speak yet, and seemed lost, terrified even, which was disturbing when you knew her. But still, a little more "there".
A few more days of unconsciousness, pain and daze... and then...
- Enough is enough. If she's resurrected by the Powers That Be, we can start again. If she makes the slightest move, it could happen. And if she loses her mind, it'll all be for nothing. Especially as I didn't just give her something to put her to sleep.
The rest was a little wonder learned from Tao Sian. Obviously, the Dynastic Healer hadn't taught this to the Black Circle scientists directly, but the information was circulating. A few years earlier, the illustrious Zoraïe had tried a remedy on Supplice to slow down her illness, using a rare Prima flower. The mixture had indeed slowed the ailment... and the Sage, stuck in a time that stretched out slowly, very slowly. Not exactly the desired effect at the time.
But in this case, it was perfect. From the moment a homin's skull was opened, a countdown began. What better way to kill someone... and for the Powers to bring him back after far too little time. For a long time, Varnili and Mazé'yum had to (discreetly) explore the inside of hominin heads with an hourglass beside them and in ten-minute increments. At the end of this time, and provided they hadn't done too much damage beforehand, they had to use a healing spell, or see their victim recalled by the Powers. It was virtually impossible to reach the life seed in such a short time and without doing too much damage. As for acting on it...
Here, the Puo-Kean was going to give them time. It was timed too (and quite precisely, thanks to other unwitting guinea pigs), but it offered a lot more room for manoeuvre.
Cutting, cutting, carefully, cautiously, never going too far. Admire the sight that so few homins knew: a seed of active life, at the heart of the brain, whose ramifications extended in all directions. Mazé'yum had prepared an entire magnifying device so as to be able to see the details. The seed of life had yet to reveal its mysteries, but at least he knew what it should look like, more or less. A tiny grain with innumerable striations, whose infinitesimal threads ran to various areas of the cortex and body, binding to the nerves until they merged with them. He took lucios, in every possible way, so as to be able to observe any damage more calmly once Eeri had been sewn back together (and saved from resurrection). They had to repeat the whole operation three times, to prevent the resurrection from setting in, before the Zorai felt he had seen everything and had enough shots. He paused again, watching the lucios pensively. This was really, really complex. A homin with less pride than him could have admitted defeat, right then and there. How could he do better than the Karavan, when he didn't have all their knowledge, nor their tools?
But that wasn't going to stop Mazé'yum. Certainly, he couldn't understand why this arm wasn't responding. Since no two seeds of life resembled each other exactly, it was hard to say whether the differences on Eeri's were due to damage or to the nature of the hominin. It was also hard to know how to change that. From experience, he knew that touching a life seed was... very random. They were extremely solid, almost unalterable, until they suddenly shattered into thousands of pieces that dissolved in the process, for no really identifiable reason.
Varnili didn't scoff for the moment, waiting for the Zorai's instructions. Despite her sadism and contempt, even she felt the sacredness of the seed of life. The two scientists felt almost sacrilegious approaching this mystery, daring to intervene in it, and only their ambition to go ever further, to fight any arbitrary limits that might be placed on them (be they the limits of a still somewhat hominous feeling) drove them on.
- Ukio," mumbled Mazé'yum, who at times like this rediscovered the accents of her native tongue. I can only see this... it has to work.
"It was a vial with black and purplish highlights, untouched until then. "Above all, it was the culmination of long years of research spanning several generations. The sciences of the Zorais, the Matis, the marauders and the trytonnists, the various tribes of the Bark and the more or less avowed research of some, combined to transcend homine limitations. "This, if Mazé'yum hadn't made a mistake in his formulas, would have the same effect on a life seed as a healing spell did on a homin body. Or break it.
- We're going back. Don't cut any wires.
- You want to take my place, Ser la tremblotte?
- Varnili...
Too much tension, which would have to be released at some point. But not now. La matisse began cutting again. Slicing, slicing, until the seed of life appeared once more.
- One drop," breathed the Zoraï. Just a drop.
The pipette dropped its black tear onto the glistening seed of life. For a moment, the liquid seemed to slide down the corpuscle, then was suddenly absorbed, transforming the color of its support, as well as its texture. It was one of those moments when the absence of a Goddess to whom one could address one's prayers was keenly felt.
- Close... We'll have to see...
Varnili repositioned the materials around the seed of life and its web, letting a gentle flow of care slide along her instruments, until she closed the skull and skin of the fyros, still asleep and slowed down, but whose breath had become heavy and jerky.
Mazé'yum slid down a bench, not even trying to hide the trembling of her hands. Varnili couldn't keep still, at times clutching the table with all her might, as if this would speed up the fyros' awakening.
The wait was unbearable. But their patient was breathing. Breathing harder and harder, as if the air were struggling to reach her. Then, suddenly, Eeri arched her back, cracking the bonds that held her, and letting out a cry from the depths of her soul. Mazé'yum rushed in, working to limit the damage of the convulsions, even reluctantly giving new drugs to calm the fyrette. He would have preferred to limit the products, unsure of the interactions, but she was going to kill herself if she went on like this.
For three days, he watched over her, waiting for her to regain consciousness. Each time she emerged, Eeri screamed incoherently and struggled with all her might, until the Zoraï gave her painkillers again. It was impossible to find a happy medium: either it knocked him out, or it wasn't enough. He was beginning to accept that he had failed, but still refused to give up. As long as she was alive... And then, despite the fact that Eeri wasn't coming to her senses, there was one successful aspect: she clenched her right fist fiercely in those moments of suffering.
Varnili had left them, that part didn't interest her; the suffering of others only excited her when she took an active part in it. Patiently, Mazé'yum watched over her pupil, reading and rereading his notes to find an idea, something he might have forgotten, that could improve the situation.
And then, little by little, the pain seemed to subside. Eventually, Eeri woke up, his eye haggard. The second eye was still dead, but it's true that they hadn't worked on this mechanical part (and that it seemed more complex than an arm). She was in no condition to speak yet, and seemed lost, terrified even, which was disturbing when you knew her. But still, a little more "there".
A few more days of unconsciousness, pain and daze... and then...