“For now, the coven has the worst of the energies at the house shielded and they aren’t leaking into the water table. Come dawn, Astrid and a few of her younger witches will be back at Melody Farm to see if the T-shirts and the thing we think might be a trigger for thedeath and decayare clean after being in the null room all night. Overall, the North Nashville coven is working well with the locals, so that’s a good thing.”
“I’d like a cost-benefit analysis of purchasing twenty portable null rooms,” FireWind said, watching T. Laine with the steady gaze of a hunting cat. “We currently have twenty PsyLED units throughout the contiguous states, and are getting ready to open one in Alaska and one in Hawaii. The cost of the null room at Unit Eighteen HQ was twenty-seven thousand dollars, inexpensive because all we had to do was insulate the walls properly so the Richmond coven could apply the working. However, we are limited by its permanent location. It seems wise to provide a portable null room for each unit, if the cost can be included in next year’s budget.”
“Witches make them, you know,” she said, her tone aggressive, staring back at him, her eyes seeing something I was clearly missing. “Including witches at Spook School. You should ask the Spook School coven for a price. But one thing to keep in mind. The trailers have to be tuned up periodically. Like, every time they’re moved. And it takes a coven of at least three to do that.”
FireWind said, “Tune-up,” sounding faintly amused. He used a paper napkin to clean his already meticulous fingers. When he was done, there was no grease on the paper. At all. Had the big boss just used a stalling technique? “I would prefer to keep this outside of the witch covens in Richmond and Baltimore. And away from the Seattle coven as well.”
“Really,” T. Laine said, her tone too cold to be called deadpan.
“Yes. All three of the major covens have benefited financially and politically from their relationships with the military and federal law enforcement. It’s time to expand PsyLED’s contacts with other covens in the paranormal world.”
“Past time,” T. Laine said. Something in her tone suggested that she had said these same words recently.
“I have recognized the benefit of consulting with covens in each city where a PsyLED unit is located. Would you be willing to fly out with each portable null room delivery and give a tutorial to the PsyLED units in the use and upkeep of such a tool?” He was staring at T. Laine, watching her, evaluating. “And, while there, would you consider negotiating with local covens who might be willing to consult with and partner with the human units, providing assistance with the trailers when they are moved?”
T. Laine had gone very still as he talked. “Sure. Bet that would make the entrenched old dudes on the units happy,” she said, her tone saying the opposite. “Is this just chitchat or is this a real thing?”
“I have sent a report with an urgent needs request to the director of Homeland. I’ll need to provide an additional protocol and budgetary request for the twenty portable null rooms and coven consulting fees. Yes. It’s areal thing,” he said, his voice taking on its first emotional content.
T. Laine sat back, her jaw forward, pugnacious as ever, but her body language looser. It was quite clear that something very unpleasant had happened between the two while I was off the last two days.
“You read my report,” she said, accusing.
“I did. It was passed along to me by Soul. In future, I would appreciate being apprised of any reports before they are sent up-line to the assistant director of PsyLED.”
My eyes went wide. It sounded as if T. Laine had gone over his head with something and FireWind was ticked off.
“Happy to,” she said. “But just so you know and so you can get your tail feathers out of that twist, that report and letter went to LaFleur and up-line to the assistant director before you were appointed to your current position.” T. Laine leaned in to FireWind, holding his eyes with hers. “I didn’t go behind your back or over your head. Sir.”
An uncomfortable silence built in the room, and I was aware of Tandy’s and JoJo’s interest. They weren’t even tapping on keyboards. “And next time you want to reprimand me for something you think I’ve done, let’s talk in private first, so I don’t have to bust your balls in the middle of a unit meeting.”
FireWind blinked. T. Laine didn’t.
Occam drawled, “I’da brought popcorn if I’da known there was gonna be entertainment.”
“I just stuck a bag in the microwave,” JoJo said from HQ. “This is fun.”
FireWind sat back in his chair. T. Laine didn’t. “I think that is a fair way to proceed from this point,” he said.
“Uh-huh. And I accept your apology,” she said.
FireWind smiled, one of those rare, wide, truly happy smiles I had seen maybe twice in all the months we had worked from the same office. “I didn’t offer an apology,” he said, amusement heavy in his tone.
“Should have.”
FireWind chuckled. “Yes. I suppose I should. Please consider it simply late, and not a lack of social graces. I apologize for the incorrect assumption and for not discussing this in private first.”
T. Laine remained unmoving, leaning forward for several seconds, before she sat back in her chair. She was wearing an oversized gray shirt and sweatpants and bright pink socks. She still looked tired and pale. “JoJo,” T. Laine said, continuing the meeting. “Update us on the lab work I collected on that green stuff on the bodies, please.”
The realization hit me. T. Laine had taken charge of the meeting. It should have been FireWind in charge. He had baited her and she had baited him back. The undercurrents in the room were as tangled as any in the Nicholson home back at thechurch, and surely had more causation than the back-and-forth I had just seen. These two had been in an argument, or something worse, and everyone in the unit knew about it except me.
JoJo said, “The substance is a complex mixture of proteins, sugars, tissue breakdown products, and enzymes, none of which are normal for living humans or in decomping humans. I sent the values to everyone with the comparable healthy living values. I sent samples to the CDC lab for bacterial and fungal cultures and possible virus identification involved in the tissue breakdown. But for now, all we have are the chemical lab values.”
I opened the file on my laptop, glad to focus on something other than the undercurrents in the room. There were things like glucose, BUN, sodium—dozens of chemicals. None matched the normal values in live humans. But then the people had been dead so maybe that was to be expected.
JoJo talked a lot more about chemistry, not a lick of which I understood. When she finished with test results, she said, “As soon as you can transport any bodies safely, the paranormal forensic pathologist at UTMC is ready and waiting. She’s seen the pics with the green-tipped fingers and she wants a look-see inside the bodies, especially as the hospital has live patients to treat. So far the hospital is just treating their symptoms. The hospitalists want answers and a way to devise a more comprehensive treatment plan.”
“The decomp is so fast, I doubt they’ll get to see bodies from this scene,” T. Laine said. “Probably just more sludge. But we’ll know more tomorrow, after we get them out of the null trailer.”
