The Olive Grove - "Signs And Symptoms"
29 Mar 2018Jemine Caesar
“You really ought to see a medic about these headaches,” said a concerned-looking Sam Hodkin.“It’s just stress,” replied Jemine, as she removed her makeup. She glanced up at Sam's reflection in her dressing table mirror. “Running your own business does that to you. I’ll be all right once the painkillers kick in.”
But Sam was not to be put off. “You’ve been saying that nearly every day for the past couple of weeks. Recurring headaches can be a symptom of a more serious underlying problem, y’know. Inflammation of blood vessels around the brain, infection, intracranial pressure—“
“And stress,” Jemine cut in, tossing her makeup wipe away. “Look, Sam, I know you did a year of pre-med in the Fed Navy and you know a lot of stuff, but there’s absolutely nothing to be concerned about. I’ve had quite a bit on my plate at work, and that’s all there is to it. It’s – just – stress.”
“Jem,” said Sam, trying to sound reasonable. “Before you took on The Olive Grove you were a pilot for nigh on three years, and a bounty hunter for a good part of that. You dealt with stress on an almost daily basis, yet I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times you complained of having headaches. Until now.”
Jemine held up her hands. “All right!” She took a breath, forcing herself to calm down. “All right, Sam. Fine. If the headaches persist for much longer, I’ll make an appointment at the medicentre, okay? But honestly, there’s no need to worry. Now, I’m going to take a bath.”
The headaches had been coming for considerably longer than ‘the past couple of weeks’. At first they’d been easy for Jemine to ignore and easy to hide, but recently had become more and more debilitating. So she’d begun taking stronger meds to compensate. But then Sam had discovered one of her bottles of pills at The Olive Grove, prompting a series of concerned questions.
Sam’s right, of course, Jemine thought as she undressed. I really ought to see a medic.
Because it wasn’t just headaches...
She lowered herself into the bathtub and lay still, luxuriating in the bubbled water and inhaling its floral scent. Normally Jemine showered, but there were times when only a long, relaxing soak in a deep bath would do.
Closing her eyes, Jemine allowed her mind to drift. Tomorrow, March the first, would mark the beginning of her fifth month as proprietress of The Olive Grove. Her old life as a spacer seemed so long ago, but, as her recent trip to her homeworld had proved, she still knew how to pilot a ship.
Her tensatsuken training under Suki Hai had continued on an almost daily basis. Almost, because on two occasions a blinding headache had got the better of Jemine and she’d reluctantly had to cancel. Nevertheless, she had made good progress in the martial art, and had become reasonably proficient. Jemine fancied she would be able to hold her own in a fight, should one ever chance to come her way.
Sam’s birthday had been a bit of a disaster. For the last couple of years, Jemine had entertained her boyfriend by donning a fancy dress costume and indulging him in a little fantasy roleplay. This year, however, she’d simply not been up to it due to a bad case of indigestion. Forced to abandon the sexy flight attendant outfit she’d purchased, Jemine had hastily gone to the Citi Gateway shopping mall and bought Sam an expensive bottle of shaving cologne, as well as some meds for her stomach. That was when she’d bumped – quite literally – into Phisto Sobanii.
He’d been engrossed in reading something on his dataslate, and Jemine had been distracted by a pair of shoes in a store display. Neither one had seen the other coming, and so they’d collided, Jemine’s shopping bag falling to the deck. Phisto had been apologetic, explaining he’d been catching up on the latest edition of Valentina! magazine. Jemine thought it odd that a manly man like him would read a women’s publication, and said so. Phisto said he'd been reading an article about some particularly large star, and had added it to his list of places to visit.
Their conversation, punctuated by several bouts of coughing from Jemine, had then turned to the reason for Phisto’s presence on the starport.
"Had a rough patch at work,” he’d explained. “My FDL is... ah... in the shop, so I've been hanging around Citi Gateway the past few weeks."
"That must be rather frustrating for you,” Jemine had said. “A pilot without a ship. How are you keeping yourself occupied in the meantime?"
“Little bit of this, little bit of that. Catching up with a few folks has been nice. Actually just saw Marra a few hours ago."
"Marra?" Jemine said, in between coughs. "Marra Morgan? You've stayed in touch with her, then. Are you planning on seeing her again?"
It had come as quite a surprise to Jemine to learn that Morgan was still on Citi Gateway. She'd felt certain that the woman would have buggered off back to Pegasi, doing piratey stuff with her Black Omega gang and generally making a ruddy nuisance of herself.
"Why?" asked Phisto. "Wanna tag along?"
Jemine immediately realised her question had irritated the man, and it was now apparent to her that there was something going on between him and Morgan. The manipulative bitch had somehow managed to get her hooks into him. Jemine wondered if Phisto had been the missing fourth person at Morgan’s birthday party at The Olive Grove, and found herself fearing for him.
“Well,” she said, “I don't want to risk annoying you any further by prying into your private life. Who you choose for friends is entirely your own affair. But as for Morgan, well... Just be careful, all right?"
"I'd joke that's my middle name, but we both know it's already 'Fighter Jock.'" Phisto gave Jemine a warm smile. "I've got to be going. Not sure when I'll be back to Citi next, so try and stay out of trouble yourself, yeah?"
"Phisto, wait!"
Jemine coughed again, then composed herself and took a deep breath.
"I mean what I say,” she began. “Be very wary of her. Look, I don't know the extent of your relationship with her, but remember this; Marra Morgan doesn't have friends. She has people she uses for her own ends, nothing more. Whatever she's told you, whatever promises she's made to you, don't believe a single word. If she's keeping you around, it's only because you're serving a purpose. But as soon as you stop being useful, as soon as you cross her in any way-- she'll hurt you."
Phisto remained silent, and Jemine hoped for a moment that she might have actually got through to the man, made him see sense about getting tangled up with Marrakech Morgan. But his next words, and the cold tone he used, were enough to tell Jemine that she’d wasted her breath.
"Be seeing you, Caesar."
Well, Jemine thought sadly, I tried. And in trying to help this man, I’ve only succeeded in turning him against me.
"Good luck, commander Sobanii,” she said as she turned away. “Take care out there."
Jemine opened her eyes and stared at the foaming water. Her hands roamed across her body beneath the bubbles, coming to rest on her stomach. Her fingers traced along the slight imperfections of her stretch marks, only to then find the more recent scar inflicted upon her by Stryker Aune. She began to feel dizzy, and took several deep breaths to rid herself of the sickening sensation.
The dizzy spells had become more of a thing in the past week. The first one had happened in her office at The Olive Grove, two days after Sam’s birthday, mere minutes before a visit from Jubei Himura.
The Inquisitor had been full of praise for both the pleasure house and for Jemine herself. The main purpose of his visit, however, was to inform Jemine that an attempt had been made on the life of Corvallu Ibara. The HIP 108828 Trade Commission Deputy Inspector had interviewed Jemine at the end of January, as part of her faction’s investigation into attacks on Black Omega transport ships. The attacks had been linked to none other than Stryker Aune.
"You must understand,” Himura said, “that in my line of work, I have to do my research on anyone I may come in contact with. I don't know what your past with Stryker Aune is, but I can gather from various accounts that you do not like him. I’ve also gathered that you generally don't go out of your way to hate people."
"Hate is a very strong emotion," Jemine had replied, sniffing. "I am as capable of hatred as the next person, Mister Himura, but I dispense mine very sparingly."
The Inquisitor then asked Jemine for details of her experiences with Aune.
"Stryker and I have met four times,” she replied. “The first was just over a year ago, on January the ninth, at Marrakech Morgan's birthday party in the InGaBa. Stryker was a guest. He seemed like a nice man– considering he was amongst a bunch of pirates. We had a few drinks, we danced, and... well, one thing led to another. It was a happy time."
Jemine rose and turned to gaze at the landscape behind her desk.
"The second time wasn't so happy,” she continued, sniffing again. “I'd just failed a bounty hunting contract given to me by Morgan. Gaia knows why I ever took it on. Anyway, Morgan decided to punish me for my failure. It... it was Stryker who administered the punishment..."
"Yes,” said Himura. “That's his M-O. He gets right up and personal with his targets. He doesn't hide it. However, he usually kills his targets. You, on the other hand, are alive and in apparent good health. Please forgive me for asking, but what exactly was your punishment?"
"Before I tell you that," Jemine said, "I have to go back a bit. I had a daughter, called Bekka. But in giving birth to her, I also passed on a malignant virus. She died aged ten, of a rare and, at the time, incurable disease called Transuterophylomycaemia. I later learned that the virus had also destroyed my entire reproductive system, leaving me incapable of bearing more children. A transplant wasn't an option, due to the extent of the damage. I was devastated.
"Not long after Bekka died, I became a spacer, and met Sam Hodkin. A few months later they found a cure for my... my condition. They rebuilt my womb, though I almost died in the process. To cut a long story short, I could have children again, which was all I've ever wanted. But the life of a spacer isn't awfully conducive to being pregnant and bringing up a child, so I put motherhood on hold. I'd been well and truly bitten by the spacer bug, you see. I was only twenty eight, plenty of time left to have a baby.
"And then came the bounty hunting. I'd tried trading, and wasn't especially good at it, so after an acquaintance introduced me to bounty hunting, I thought I'd try that instead. I had a few successes, nothing huge, but I became desperate to make a name for myself at it. So when Morgan offered me a contract that other hunters would have given their eye teeth for, well... I thought I had it made. But, as it turned out, I simply wasn't good enough for that, either.
"Which brings me to the punishment..."
Jemine sniffed again.
"The first time I met Stryker, at Morgan's birthday party, I told him how much I was looking forward to one day having another child. I assume he must have told Morgan, because her punishment for my failure was to render me infertile once again, thanks to a device implanted in my womb. Implanted by Stryker Aune."
"I see," Jubei said, his voice sombre. “A parent should never have to bury their child. I know…”
The Inquisitor stopped, clearly struggling with whatever he wanted to say. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh, as if to relieve some great pressure that was interfering with his thoughts.
“I know the pain of losing children."
Jemine sniffed yet again. She took a handkerchief from her bag and blew her nose. Turning aside, Himura glanced at the framed holo-image on the desk.
“That’s my daughter,” said Jemine. "It's the only picture I have of her. Holo-imagers weren't a thing in the community I grew up in."
“She's beautiful, Miss Caesar. I’m sure she brought you much joy in your life.”
Jemine nodded. "She did. She was loving, and gentle, and considerate. She always tried to be helpful when she could, in her own little way. And she would pick daisies, make them into a chain, and bring them to me. 'Look, mama,' she would say, 'I made you a pretty necklace'. She was my world."
There was an awkward pause, during which Jemine sniffed and wiped away a tear. She apologised to Himura for having strayed from the purpose of his visit.
"I’m sorry, Mister Himura,” she said. “We’re rather strayed from the purpose of your visit. So... what will you do next? About the person wh tried to kill Miss Ibara, I mean."
"Well, that's the trick." Jubei sighs. "I'm going after Stryker. I feel at least somewhat responsible for your situation. I was the one that found him floating in space shortly after he lost his arm."
Jemine froze, lost in a sudden recollection. She was only dimly aware that Himura was still talking to her, describing something about a man named Rex, and about having a fight with Stryker, and about Marra Morgan...
"Jubei,” said Jemine at last. “You are Jubei."
Blinking, Jemine put a hand to her mouth and exhaled loudly.
"The first time I met Stryker," she said slowly, "just before we... well, he told me about how he lost his arm in an accident on a ship. He said his escape pod was scooped by a man named Jubei. That was you, wasn't it? You're the man who rescued him."
"Yes, I am," Jubei responded. "I didn't know what he was doing at the time. In fact, it's weird that I even picked him up. Normally, I send a distress signal to local authorities and then help gather the pods. But since it was only one pod, I picked it up and dealt with it myself. No matter how big the galaxy is, fate makes it rather small."
"It does indeed,” said Jemine. “Look, you mustn't feel responsible on my account, Mister Himura. When you scooped that pod, you performed an act of kindness. The consequences weren't your fault. Don't blame yourself for them. Stryker Aune chose his own path. He alone is responsible for his own actions. He must deal with the consequences for himself."
Paths? Jemine mused inwardly. Now I’m beginning to sound like Suki.
"Yes, he must," Jubei replied. "And that consequence may need to be me. Miss Caesar, unlike most of the 'verse, you did not take the opportunity to take revenge on Stryker when he was here. According to witnesses, you simply said a few words to him and he left without incident. If Stryker was truly repentant and tried to reverse the damage he had done to you, would you grant him any forgiveness, should he seek it?"
Jemine shook her head.
"He abused my trust, Mister Himura. He took away my future. He took away my heart's desire. If you were a woman in my position, do you think you could answer that question?"
"I could answer for myself," the Inquisitor said. "But that's not a time I'd like to revisit. I won't push the subject any further, though. Now, let’s talk about Apollonia Purduto... it would seem that you and your friends have a vested interest in helping her escape from Morgan, and I'm very happy that she wants to help Idris. However, I'm not sure that Idris can be reached. He's more machine than man now."
Jubei tapped a few more keys on his wrist computer and produced a small data chip which he handed to Jemine.
"This contains secure transmission codes that my field office uses for communications. If you're going to make another attempt to rescue Apollonia, let me know. I want to help out for... personal reasons. Besides, you're going to need someone to handle the giant if everything turns south."
"Very well," said Jemine as she studied the data chip. "Apollonia is aware that I'm willing to help her, but the final choice is hers. Should the opportunity arise, I'll contact you."
"Thank you, Miss Caesar. This has been a pleasure. I'm glad the people here are in the hands of such a capable woman. Not everyone can say they went up against von Steuben and survived."
"I know. I was one of the lucky ones. Well, good luck with your investigation, Mister Himura. If there's anything else I can help you with, you know where to find me. Oh, and please give my regards to Miss Ibara, won't you?"
The Inquisitor gave a polite bow, and left the office. As soon as the door slid shut, Jemine let out a deep sigh. Then she sniffed again, wrinkling up her nose in irritation. She dabbed a fingertip against her upper lip, and immediately felt that it was wet...
Wet with bright red blood.
Jemine lifted her hand above the foam-topped water and stared at her fingertip, recalling the sight of the blood. She was reminded of a speech from one of the Shakespeare plays so beloved of her papa:
‘Here's the smell of the blood still: all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.’
She’d not had a nosebleed since she was a child. Strange that she should have one now, after all these years, on top of everything else; the constant headaches, the nausea, the recurring pins-and-needles in her hands, the indigestion. She’d also started to have such vivid dreams, too. Abstract, nonsensical dreams, in which she’d become obsessed with counting things over and over and over again.
Lowering her hand back under the water, Jemine closed her eyes and sank down so that her chin rested amidst the bubbles. The fragrant water was beginning to make her drowsy. She’d lost track of just how long she’d been in the bath, but the skin of her fingers felt all wrinkly. Another few minutes, perhaps...
She heard the bathroom door slide open.
“Hello, Sam,” she said, her eyes still closed. “Have you come to tell me how beautiful I am? Have you come to tell me how much you love me?
She heard the sound of stiletto heels click-clacking across the deck towards the bathtub. She smelled a headily sweet perfume in the air. She felt the gentle touch of long, slender fingers cupping and caressing her left breast, of a fingernail around her nipple, round and round and round, making it swell and grow hard in anticipation. She heard a voice, speaking in answer to her questions...
“Nein, wenig Maulwurf. I have come to bury Caesar, not to praise her.”
Jemine’s eyes snapped wide open with fear as she felt a violent shove to her chest. Suddenly she was falling, tumbling naked through hot, rushing air. High above her in a red, smoke-filled sky hovered an olive green liveried Vulture – her Vulture, the Innocent Flower. She watched it suddenly bank upwards and rise into the sky, its engines sounding like a woman's maniacal laughter. Twisting her body, Jemine saw with horror that she was plummeting towards an angry sea of molten lava, the heat from which was already beginning to scorch her exposed skin, burning her hair, boiling her eyes, consuming her...
She screamed.
“It’s gonna be okay, darlin’,” came a faraway, but reassuringly familiar, voice. “I’ll help you.”
She heard the distant sound of a horse’s hooves galloping towards her, growing louder and louder and louder...
Jemine sat bolt upright in the bath, coughing and spluttering, gasping and stretching for air. The sound of the galloping horse had turned into an insistent thumping on the door of the bathroom.
“Jem?” called Sam from outside. “Are you all right?”
“Yes...” she replied in a breathless voice, brushing soap bubbles from her face and hair. Trembling, she stood up and carefully stepped out of the bathtub. “I’m... all right. I, umm... I fell asleep in the bath. I swallowed a bit of soapy water, that’s all. I’ll be okay.”
The images from her dream were still fresh in her mind’s eye, the voices of Kat von Steuben and Matt Lehman still ringing in her ears. Kat as the villain was understandable, given that the dream had been set on the lava planet where the woman had left her to die in real life; but why, she wondered, had her fevered imagination cast Matt in the role of knight in shining armour?
She grabbed a towel and began to dry herself, carefully wiping the soapy water from her eyes. Glancing in the mirror, she gasped as she noticed a tell-tale trickle of blood meandering its way down the inside of her thigh. Probing one hand between her legs, she confirmed what she already knew to be true. She was bleeding again.
But this time it wasn’t from her nose.
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Author's Note
Thank you to Phisto Sobanii and Jubei Himura for their contributions to this entry, based in part on a series of RP posts.