In the previous chapter: Zachery gifting Charlotte an ice sculptured rose led to Jessica deciding to ally with Elle out of jealousy.
-----
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It was another hour and a half until lunchtime and class had only just began. A tune radiated from the clamorous bell in the distance that struck eleven in the morning sharp. Oriane sat duly in her seat, a plastic high bench chair, and leaning onto the white bench-tops. In front of her lay socketry and a Bunsen Burner erected on a fire-proof mat. There were also a selection of tools like clamps and lighters. Around her lay all sorts of equipment she can neither identify nor name. The laboratory was fit for university level and no doubt research at that level were carried out in these very rooms.
Oriane recalled how last week before Jessica went missing and harassed by a few... 'Weres', Charlotte and herself had been around these laboratories. The technician Jessica was speaking with was most certainly a research student who had to be at least in her twenties. She had seen her working in another room when Oriane passed by.
Just then, with a harrumph and a puff, Jessica strode past her, completely ignoring her presence.
Or, rather, she'd acknowledged her presence and that was why she was huffing and puffing like an angry dragoness.
Oriane had the discomfiture of having Jessica in the same class, as was last week. Given what had transpired during the weekend and this morning with the ice rose, she had no doubt that Jessica wouldn't want to be talking with anyone at all. She was not a particularly forgiving nor accepting sort of person. Yet, she had no clue what qualm she had with her. What qualm she had with anyone at all. She seemed to disagree with any who placed a stake in what she wanted.
Not that it was any of Oriane's business. She had much more important things to do.
Her fingers found their way into her bag. They brushed against the roughness of the paper folder, the wax seal felt oily against her tips when it touched it. Oriane believed it be to be magickal.
She had assumed the wax would have been crushed into little pieces by now with the way she was handling it - squashing it under her pillow, tucking it sloppily into bags, crushing it with the rest of the contents inside her bag. However, the wax remained intact. On closer inspection, which she had done so in her privacy in the loos, the seal stamped on the wax depicted a phoenix or a bird with a long neck like a swan, with its head held high and wings stretched open in preparation for flight. But unlike a swan, it had a bulky beak. Surrounding it in a circle were Celtic knots, enclosing the bird like a cage.
Oriane had seen Celtic knots before, but not the way it had decorated the seal. Like barbed wires, it jutted geometrically in and out. It reminded her of spikes or a million swords pointing at the bird. Poor thing, she had thought, shaking her head.
Perhaps the wax seal had something to do with the explosives after all. She nodded to herself solemnly, wordlessly affirming her self-imposed obligation to find out more.
She had been so deep in thought that she hadn't noticed someone sit next to her.
"Hey there!"
Oriane jumped, wide eyed. It was the girl with the polka dots who lived on the second floor. Last time they met, Charlotte had introduced her as a classmate from last year mathematics class.
"I saw you with Charlotte last week!" she pointed out in a bubbly voice, she pointed at her jestingly with a wink.
She had a huge grin on her face. And her hazel eyes were widened to the brink. Two pigtails tied low and loose just above her neck bounced to her perkiness. Lashes flipping up and down rapidly. Oriane did recall that she was one of the most popular girls in the college and she understood that with her... friendliness.
"We weren't introduced last time! Hi I'm Shireen! What's your name? And hey, we're even in the same class!" she giggled.
Oriane smiled tentatively. She kind of reminded her of Marian because of the bright and loud persona.
"I'm Anna," using the nickname that the other girls called her. "How do you do?"
"Hrm, good! Any friend of Charlotte's is a friend of mine. So we're going to be study buddies okay?" she continued to grin at Oriane. Honestly, it was making her feel uncomfortable. Still she maintained a neutral smile.
Despite the cautions that existed behind closed doors, most of the people she had met in the college so far had been more than friendly, or at least a little boisterous like Elle and Jessica.
Beside Shireen, but was previously hidden from Oriane's line of sight, were two other girls, both fashioned with a single braid, similar white skirt and grey top, and identical dark green eyes. Further down, they were accompanied by a guy with a distinct gelled up dark green hair-do and very tight attire - tight sweater, tight white jeans.
All three of them propped up with a pout.
"Hey Shirie, what about us?" asked the boy, who leaned forward to slap Shireen softly at her arm, which led to another round of giggles.
"Yeah," nodded one of the girls, her nails were painted blue.
"What about us?" added the other girl, her nails painted pink.
"Aren't we your study buddies?" protested the one with blue nails.
Pink nails seemed to disapprove further. "We're your best friends!"
They must be the ones whom Shireen had met on the way to the sixties party, if memory served Oriane right.
Shireen grinned even wider if it was possible. "Aw! You're definitely my besties!" she exclaimed, and blew her friends a kiss, which was returned in ritual. "We're all friends!" she declared good-naturedly, followed by a round of happy claps.
A hush fell across the laboratory and Shireen and her troop followed suit. Then hurried footsteps tapped in. It was the teacher who was absent last week. The replacement missus was quite humorous and spent the entirety of the classes last week playing introduce yourself games and simply having a good time.
According to her diary, it was Mister Jerome Landon. He had on a vested beige suit on top of a white shirt and black tie. The slightly tinted round glasses he wore hid his eyes from the class. And in his hands carried a walking stick and a top hat. Make of him what one would, but Oriane thought he looked a little silly in his gangly small frame dressed like that.
Despite his strange attire, Mister Landon plastered on his best smile as he addressed everyone. And as class progressed, the class easily set into a rhythm of textbook reading and worksheets. It looked like they were starting the semester with biology. To be specific, bio-chemistry as Mister Landon introduced the structure of an atom and the periodic table. He had a smooth light voice which managed to capture everyone's attention, including Oriane.
However, she had planned earlier and since, for the life of her, she couldn't sit still in the previous classes, she sure wouldn't sit in this class very well until she resolved the little mystery in her head. Her feet felt jittery as she attempted to control her slight hyperventilation. She clutched her stomach and raised her hand.
"-it looks like there are certain types of air particles, and depending on what type of air particles you're looking at, whether it's carbon, oxygen, or nitrogen, they all seem to have different types of properties. Yes, Miss Moore?"
"C-could..." she swallowed loudly and expelled hard. She had never done anything like it! Lips tucked under her two front teeth, the nerves causing her to sweat profusely and no doubt it did look as though she was indeed very ill. She steadied herself so she could make out the words. "Could I be excused to the nurse? I'm not feeling so good."
Shireen was looking concerned next to her which made her certain she looked positively ill. Which was good.
"Oh," Mister Landon paused and peered at her from the front of the laboratory. "You really don't look so good."
He went around to the dark mahogany desk and reached from one of the drawers after tapping something like a passcode out on the surface. And a token was pulled out. Oriane recognised that token as a hall pass. Much like the one Doctor Finnell had given her that night when she got lost wandering around the empty halls late at night.
Picking up the token, he walked up to her bench-top and handed it to her. "That's fine. Go to the infirmary and get it sorted out. Are you okay on your own?"
Oriane nodded, mouth suddenly dry as she gingerly took the token and pocketed it in one of the pockets of her worn jeans.
Shireen tapped her shoulder and looked at her with her wide hazels, "I'll take notes for you!"
Her larynx managed to conjure a whispered 'thank you' before she took off from the back door, with her bag dangling on one shoulder weakly. Oriane was trying her best to look frail and sickly and she supposed she had succeeded.
Hopefully Mister Landon wouldn't be checking in on the records at the nurses'. And if she was in trouble, she would make up an excuse such as... she ran straight to the loo and spent some time there. Yep. That seems rather feasible.
The door to the laboratory clicked shut and she almost began hyperventilating again. Simply from the exhilaration of skipping class. She had in her life probably skipped classes something like less than five times. Probably not the wisest decisions, but those few times, either she had truly gotten ill or that someone had tricked her into skipping and thereby getting her into trouble. Attending all-girl schools had its downfalls, she supposed. Getting bullied for being different occasionally was one. Thank goodness she wasn't deemed a particularly 'fun' target.
But those few times meant she knew how to get out of class. Not to mention, she even managed to get one of those token hall passes that, crossing her fingers, would successfully allow her to go to the restricted areas.
Unless all the tokens functioned differently. She hoped not.
Oriane pulled the token from out of her pocket and examined it as she walked to the Main Building and towards the girls' dormitories. It sure looked the same. The same copper colour, the same abrasiveness, and the same letters 'PASS' engraved on its front and back. She tucked it back in her pocket and assumed the best. She promised herself she was going through with it and if she got into trouble, she would be the one to shoulder it.
Squaring her jaw and attempting to rid her mind of any doubts she continued.
The laboratories were in the upper floors of the Botany building, and she had taken note the diagonal corridor that led straight back to one of the entrances to the dorms. The stairway led her down to the ground floor; and down further she went that little stairway she had thrice been through. Once with Uilliam and twice with Charlotte. Down to the basement.
Down where she had recalled Carolina once insinuated to her the underground tunnels may be located - it was the only place she knew that was below ground and last she had been in the storage with Charlotte when it was lit up, they hadn't ventured through the entire space. Merely that one room where the torn wall was.
So there was a chance that it might lead her lower to those mysterious tunnels that she was sure existed. The report certainly confirmed an underground area. Like a large cavity below the entire building structure if it could hold explosives.
-----
"Did none of our insiders tried to prevent it?" Uilliam barked into the black corded telephone he pressed into his ear.
He was enraged. Livid. Beyond livid.
Things had gone... not according to plan. As he stood in his office, the Executive's office, he fumed.
"The opposing party had done their part," explained Gordon. His informant. Compared to Uilliam he was surprisingly calm which only fuelled his anger. Not to mention Gordon had just as much stake in the election as much as he did. Fine. He would be angry enough for the both of them. "I told you that last week it wasn't a hundred percent. We absolutely thought Feeney would win but guess the Council didn't think so."
He roared in fury, not caring the wave of shock and fear that emanated from the staff on his floor, and plunged backwards onto this chair, hand fisted his thick black hair in utter disbelief. He barely contained himself to not tear the entire place into shreds given the disappointment and bafflement that churned inside him.
If he did that, there would definitely not be another Enforcer stationed in any institution in the future. He would be taken off his station for the damages and he would most certainly be locked up by that bluidy woman.
So no. Despite the setback, he would not overreact. He would try not to overreact.
He wanted to tear someone's throat out.
The fist slammed on the sturdy desk, leaving a crack in its wake. Not so sturdy after all.
"What are your instructions?" asked Gordon.
"Stand down," he growled into the phone. Then hung up. By hung up, he threw the entire phone, cord and all, towards the wall in front of him. It embedded into the surface, leaving an enormous crater.
Good thing the wall had a metal frame and the rooms beside his were empty. Had there been someone, that someone would probably be screaming for mercy and petitioning a complaint to the Council. The last thing he needed.
Councillor Goff was now the official Chancellor Goff and Uilliam had not a clue how he had done it.
Especially when his instructions from the other leaders of the Enforcing Board had been to prevent the very vermin from getting into the office of the Diana Mist College. His instructions had been to wait until one of his partners found Charlene Mist, daughter of Diana Mist. Charlene was of course, no where to be found as yet, and now Goff had taken over.
A migraine throbbed at his temples as his vision saw red, which he promptly subdued with deep breaths. He could only imagine the paperwork, the explanations, and the let down. The damage to his reputation!
In his field of work, he had never made a mistake. Never undertaken a promise he couldn't fulfil. This was his first. And given his supposed superiority from the world as former god-!
He stopped himself. Not former. Just fallen.
Trapped.
Centuries of experience felled by stupidity. A failed guarantee.
Gods he hated politics.
Yet he had never been wrong before. So something else might have been at work here.
Uilliam narrowed his eyes at the thought suspiciously.
He pulled out one of the drawers from his desk and grabbed another black cellphone. It was one of those old fashioned flip phones. It never broke. So he never replaced it.
"Gordon," he barked as soon as the call was picked up. He stood up and grabbed his wallet. "I'm coming in to discuss. Have the team ready in fifteen minutes. And prepare the status reports, for **** sakes."
-----