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Seignur Veeoni’s Private Laboratory


The first thing she did upon waking, aside receiving a glass of nutrient from M Traven, was to check on the downloads she had taken from the recovery deck.

Analysis was taking longer than she had hoped, but was still within parameters for modern analysis of Old Tech data.

She was eager to read the final reports, but she would not make the mistake of allowing eagerness to rush the process.

She paused to finish drinking her nutrient, left the glass on a workbench, and continued to the cubicle where the environments had been stored, shielded from random energies.

The first environment she checked—had failed.

Seignur Veeoni tapped the screen.

The error report was arrant nonsense. Environments did not fail in so chaotic a manner. At least, her environments, which had been manufactured to the highest standards, and thoroughly tested, and to which she herself had sole access—did not crash into insanity.

Scowling, she stalked over to the next unit, and tapped the screen. Analysis was still ongoing, but the partial files presented coherent data in an orderly and expectable format.

The third unit was likewise compliant.

She returned to the failed unit and read the error report again.

Complete nonsense.

She tapped the screen for the analysis—

“Seignur Veeoni,” M Traven said from the doorway, “Light Keeper yos’Phelium wants to speak with you.”

She did not turn around.

“I am working.”

“I told him that. He instructed me to interrupt you.”

Seignur Veeoni straightened, and turned to look at her henchwoman.

M Traven looked back.

“Very well,” Seignur Veeoni said. “I will speak with Light Keeper yos’Phelium.”


“This is Seignur Veeoni.”

“This is Light Keeper yos’Phelium,” came the crisp reply. “Attend me in my office, immediately.”

Seignur Veeoni stared at the comm.

“I am working,” she said.

“First Light Keeper of Tinsori Light Station requires your presence in his office immediately.” There was a noticeable edge to the crispness this time.

Seignur Veeoni looked to M Traven, who was standing by the desk, openly listening. M Traven, Seignur Veeoni noted, seemed amused.

She turned back to the comm.

“Of course, Light Keeper,” she said, and closed the connection.

Immediately requires the jitney,” she stated.

M Traven inclined slightly from the waist.

“I’ll drive you.”


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Framed