Marianna8: Isolated

“Good evening, Marianna,” says Makda, Medina standing behind her, arms crossed.  “We’ve let you sleep all day.  Did you sleep well?”

“Horrible nightmares,” says Marianna.  “About that stupid god.” 

“That might mean something.  Or it might not.  Medina will find out for you, tomorrow,”

“I can enter dreams.  Perhaps, if it’s a fragment of power left over, I can help,” says Medina. 

“Anyway, do you need anything?  I’d like to start examining you, but maybe you want to take a shower first.  And I hope you don’t need to eat, I don’t have anyone suitable at the moment.  But then, you’ve had two big meals in the last day, so if my vampire knowledge is good, you should be good for the week, I hope.”

“I’m OK.  And it looks like you bathed me before dressing me in pajamas, so we can go ahead,” says Marianna, looking absently at the buttery-yellow flannel pajamas she’s wearing.” 

“OK, great!” says Makda.  “First, we need to see if you still have any of the god’s power.  The easiest thing to do will be to test your strength.  Let’s arm wrestle!” 

“You do know that I’m always pretty strong?” asks Marianna.  “Do you really know what you are doing?  Not that I don’t appreciate this, but…”

“I know that, but I’m a djinni!  And I do try to stay in shape.  As superior beings, djinn are much stronger than humans.  I can lift almost 1200 pounds;  I should be a close match for a vampire, at least in strength.”

“I'm normally quite a bit stronger than that; I've been tested at a bit more than 4000 pounds.  Also, you seem awfully proud of being a djinn,” says Marianna. 

“Wouldn’t you be?” asks Medina. “After all, it’s simply a fact.  We are physically and magically superior, and really morally too.  After all, we are all driven to help humans,”

“Help humans?” asks Marianna.  “I think you have a reputation for causing mischief.”

“Oh, that’s such an unfair stereotype!” says Makda.  “I’m always working to help humans by finding cures!  There’s no mischief there.” 

“And as a personal djinni, I’m concerned only with the wishes of my boyfriend,” says Medina.  “You’ll find he doesn’t complain about me at all.  It's true that other humans are sometimes inconvenienced by his desires, but that's hardly my fault.” 

“Well, I know when I’m beat.  Let’s get on with it.”  Marianna sits down and puts her arm out. 

"If you are back to normal, you should beat me, but with some effort," says Makda.  "You are actually stronger than I thought, for a vampire."  

"It's because I was very fit before the change; our strength after is proportional to what it was as a human.  Not to brag, but you probably are a match for most female vampires.  I was exceptionally fit as a human." says Marianna. 

“Enough discussion!  Start on my signal,” says Medina.  “Ready?  Go.” 

Marianna smoothly pushes Makda’s hand to the table. 

“Oh my!” says Makda.  “I couldn’t even slow you down.  Were you even trying?”

“Not really,” says Marianna.  “I only tried to be gentle enough not to hurt you.  Are you OK?  I tried to be careful.” 

“Fine.  But you were really strong after killing the wendigo girl, so maybe that’s all it is.  Let’s go to the basement and try you against Medina; you two are strong enough that I’m worried you’ll crack the foundation, my poor table would have no chance.”

In the basement, Medina and Marianna get ready. 

“Go,” says Marianna.  In the first second or so, Medina starts pushing down Marianna’s arm, but she grits her teeth and soon the contest reverses. 

“Stop!” says Makda when she sees Marianna’s face.  “We can’t risk you losing control.  Come, let’s go upstairs and watch something calm on Netflix.  Do you like “Sex and the City?”  I’d offer you some tea, but,”

“I don’t drink tea,” says Marianna, smiling wide.

“Oh, don’t scare us like that!” says Makda, laughing.  “But it’s good that you are joking.  Chaos gods have no sense of humor.” 

After a break to make sure that everyone is either bored or entertained by Carrie Bradshaw, Makda starts talking again.  “Now, don’t be scared, but that was really sort of bad news.  I’m still sure we can come up with something, but I don’t think it’s bragging to say that my sister is a champion among djinn.  And among our community as a whole, really.  I’ve never heard of anyone stronger than her who wasn’t referred to as a god.” 

“Or, to be fair, demigods,” says Medina.  “But it’s true.  Not very many are stronger than me.”

“Not many?  Medina, if we ever hold our own Olympic games, you’ll be in the running for a whole set of medals,” She turns to Marianna, “Medina can stop a speeding train cold, or bench press an oil tanker.  I think if you are beating her, then we’ll have to assume that we need to exorcise an outside influence.  That’s the bad news.” 

“Is there any good news?” asks Marianna, sobbing.  “Will I have to watch rom-coms for eternity?” 

“Don’t worry,” says Medina.  “If I’m a champion athlete among djinn, then Makda is a Nobel prize winner.  If she can’t find a solution, it doesn’t exist.” 

“That’s what I’m worried about,” says Marianna. 

Makda ignores this. “Thanks for the confidence, Medina!  But yes, don’t worry!  I have several ideas already, and I’ll start work tomorrow.  I think we’ll have a cure worked out pretty quickly; I already know from Father’s work about Lath-Cyo’s nature and likely counters… it should be simple, really, compared with argyria.  Or many of the other things I’ve successfully researched.”

“You already know that?  How’d you have time?  We just found his name out last night," says Marianna. 

“Oh, I never forget anything I’ve read, and I’ve had enough time to read a whole library.  Lots of it is outdated, unfortunately, but I doubt Lath-Cyo has changed much over time.  Please, keep watching, but I need to go to bed.  Good night, Marianna!” says Makda, as she heads off to her bedroom. 

“I’ll stay up with you a bit, I’ve always been a bit of a night djinni,” says Medina.  “And don’t worry.  This sort of thing is Makda’s obsession.  She will find a solution, guaranteed.” 

“Can we watch something besides romantic comedy?” asks Marianna. 

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.  You need to stay calm.  Very sorry.  You should listen to Makda.” 

“Do all djinni have an obsession?  You talked like you do, earlier.  What is yours?”

“You should ask, who is yours!  I get obsessed with a person, like a lot of djinni.  Some of us, like my sister, obsess with something more abstract; cures for illness, like Makda, or painting the perfect still-life with watermelon, could be anything at all. Mine is Ron.”  Medina sighs.  “I should be getting back to him soon, even if he did tell me to take as much time as I want.  I miss him.” 

“We do, and you don’t need to stay for me,” says Marianna.  “I’m going to try very hard to stay calm, as your sister recommends.  I’ll even watch rom-coms.” 

“Good morning!  Or should I say, good afternoon!  I’d offer you coffee, but you don’t drink coffee, do you?”  Makda smiles down at Marianna, still waking up as the sun sets. 

“Good… morning?”  says Marianna. 

“Let’s go to the lab.  I’ll need to get a blood sample, if you don’t mind.  Medina sends her regrets, she missed Ron too much and so had to leave, but she did visit your dreams and confirm that there’s a bit of a problem.    I’m thinking that Lath-Cyo is a bit like an infection, in some ways, and maybe there’s some way to destroy it while leaving you unharmed!  But I’ll need to experiment a little.”

“You’ll have to be quick, drawing blood.  My body heals so fast, it will dissolve your needle in a few seconds.   But we can try.”  Marianna sits down and rolls up the sleeve of the yellow pajamas. 

Makda picks out a syringe and finds a vein on Marianna’s slender, wiry arms.  But when she tries to push it in, the needle bends.  “That’s strange.  I was expecting trouble once it was in, but… let’s try again.” 

The second attempt has no more success. 

“I have an idea,” says Marianna, biting her wrist and sucking.  “Give me a beaker to spit in, please.”

Makda looks a little shocked, but finds a sterile beaker.  “Doesn’t that hurt?  I’m so sorry.” 

“Not really, no.  My fangs are really sharp, one hardly feels them going in.” 

“I’m sort of curious now.  I’d ask you to bite me, but I’m also a little afraid and I think that I’d end up burning you reflexively.” 

“I’m very strong now, but I think that would hurt; you can be very intense.  And really, people who get bitten by one of us end up either dead or vampiric.  You don’t want that.” 

“I’ve never heard of any djinni vampires.  I suppose it’s our fire defense.  It’s a reflex, you know; no matter how fast you are, we’ll be faster to ignite.  Are you doing OK, otherwise?  Let me or Harvey know if you need anything.  But don’t drink Harvey!” 

“Of course not!  What sort of vampire-”

“He’s caught on fast to running the store, so I only have to come up front when a licensed pharmacist is required.  Very useful.  Thanks for your help with him.”

“It’s nothing, it seems like it’s working out well for him as well.  I always try to do the right thing; I wouldn’t have had him go with you, if I didn’t believe you’d be nice to him.” 

“Yes, he seems so happy, after being a shut-in for so long, to see that people can be kind to him.  Medina tells me he has a huge crush on me, but I hope she's joking.  I’m just not into him like that.  But if you should find a blue woman once you’re cured, perhaps you’ll send her this way, too?  There are so few subjects to study.  Before we get started on your case, vampire senses are very astute, yes?  Tell me, do you thing Harvey looks lighter blue in one of these photos?  If I cure him, perhaps I can set him up on a dating site.  I think the blue would just be a turn-off right now, you know?  How would you write a profile for that?”

“I imagine it would be.  Um, race… Smurf?  I’m sorry, that’s rude.” 

“Now where was I? Yes, do you need anything?”

“I’m fine; I don’t need anything right now.  Harvey looks… a little lighter in the photo on the left?”

“Ha!  You see, my argyria cure is working, slowly.  Now, if only I can get the vomiting under control…  Damn side effects.  Anyway, I’ll go get started.  Stay calm!  If we see that you’re stable, maybe you can work in the pharmacy soon!  Wouldn’t that be fun?  Anyway, I’m going to see if there’s anything unusual in your blood, and if there is, I’ll see if I can find something to counteract it.  Lath-Cyo is a god of the cold darkness, so in theory something contrary should be a counter.  Well, back to work.”  Makda walks out, in her purposeful, energetic way.    

Marianna barely sees Makda for a few days, except for a few requests for more blood from her, or sometimes from Harvey, and occasional trips up to consult with customers. Otherwise, she spends long hours in her lab, looking through a microscope or using laboratory equipment that, to Marianna, are simply mysteries.  Before her change, Marianna studied languages, and dance, and since, occult law enforcement, and unlike Makda, she doesn’t remember much from the science courses she did take long ago.  When she visits Makda, she normally seems too busy to talk, distracted by something interesting in her mysterious experiments.  Bored of TV, she starts hanging out in the store with Harvey, who turns out to be more interesting than she thought.  She’s tempted to reveal that she’s a vampire, and then simply make him forget, but Makda’s warning not to use her abilities makes her stop.  And even though Harvey lives in the attic apartment, she’s not sure he’s actually aware of their world or even that he works for a powerful djinni who’s probably trying to cure his condition using magical techniques, so she talks about ice hockey instead, as they are both big Blackhawks fans.  Asking Makda if Harvey is in the know seems like it would be embarrassing, no matter the answer. 

Harvey, for his part, never mentions anything about magic. 

After several 18-hour days, Makda comes up with a look of triumph.  “Come look at this!” she says. 

She points to the microscope.  “Take a look!” 

Marianna looks.

“Let me change the slide!  See the difference?” 

“Makda, I haven’t any idea what I’m looking at, I’m sorry, but please explain.” 

“Marianna, the first slide is your blood currently.  It’s contaminated with Lath-Cyo’s essence, and a bit of Wendigo taint as well.  In the second sample, I’ve successfully destroyed that by using a mixture of one part Harvey’s blood to ten parts my own blood, concentrated using my own technique, and then added to your own blood in a 1:1 ratio.” 

“Er… OK?  So I can be cured?”

“In theory, yes.  You’ll have seen the obvious problem, which is that while Harvey’s donation is only a little more than recommended, that my own is, well, total.  But I have a solution to that.”

“Really?”

“Yes, my sister can grow and then we can get a donation from her that’s easily big enough for this, while being a negligible amount to her.  No, have you seen the other problem?”

“No, there’s another problem?” 

Marianna and Makda look at Medina and Ron on the computer screen.  “I’m glad you are doing well, Medina!  And how are you Ron?  Be nice to Medina!”

“Makda!  Ron is the nicest master ever!” says Medina.   

“That’s what I want to hear! Your last human was no good for you, but would you listen?  But Ron does seem nice.  Anyway, we need your help.  Ron, does your library have a good occult section?  And more importantly, a good occult Nazi section?  We’ve run into a problem here.  I have a cure for Marianna, but it needs to be taken intravenously, and I don’t have anything that can penetrate her skin.” 

“Really?  Have you tried-“

“Seriously Ron, we’ve tried lots of things.  I’ve managed to tickle her a few times, but other than that I’ve only broken a lot of equipment.  I was able to cut her with my janbiya, but that’s unhelpful for transfusing blood; further, I can’t rework the janbiya into something useful, as it’s just normal Damascus steel with a spell on it.  If I reforged it, the spell would be lost.  I can’t enchant something as powerful myself.” 

“I see how that’s unhelpful then.  Who did enchant it? Could you check with them?”

“My father, but he’s been missing for ages,” says Makda. 

“We are sure he’d have got to his bottle if there were trouble, but it must be hidden somewhere and sealed so he can’t escape,” says Medina. 

“So that’s not an option.  And I don’t know any other powerful enchanters well enough to ask for such a thing.  Something so powerful would require a high price.  We need something very specific, a hollow needle.  I don’t think anyone’s bothered to enchant one.  Everyone who requests magic items is either a warrior who wants weapons, or a creep who needs love charms to get girls, it seems like,” says Makda.

“She doesn’t mean you, Ron.  This is talking about love potions, that sort of nonsense,” says Medina, as Ron turns red. 

“Magical roofies, really,” says Makda.   “Not much scientific stuff done, and when it is, it’s usually things like that enchanted submarine, or an item that turns lead to gold, or things like that.  Not a needle that won’t break.  Needles are pretty cheap, and they are supposed to be one-use anyway, though that shouldn’t matter for us anyway.  Adamantium is practically unbreakable, used for the weapons of the gods!  I know the Nazis were looking for it, but did they find any?  Did they make any?  And can we get at it?   I think it’s the best hope to penetrate Marianna and survive in her body long enough to transfuse enough serum.”

“How will you shape that,” asks Ron.  “In the comics, you can’t do anything with it once it hardens.”

“This is real life, not Marvel Comics!” says Makda.  “Stan Lee just underestimates how hot djinn are.  We’ll only need a small needle and if you think about how much power it takes to make a fire tornado, well, now think about that focused on something small.  It can be very intense, with proper focus.  That won’t be an issue.” Makda looks a little indignant at Ron doubting her.

“I don’t think just looking for Nazis in the occult section is going to help with this.” 

“Ron, please try.  I’ll come along, just let me into the rare books and we’ll be sure to find something,” says Medina.

“OK, Medina, I’ll try.  Makda, I’ll really try.  But no guarantees, this is really hard,” says Ron, feeling hot as the two djinni glare at him, surely just in his head.  “But I’m on it!  We’re on it!  Good-bye.” 

A familiar Cadillac pulls up outside, and Marianna goes to get the door.  “Good morning Marianna!  And Doctor Al Hazred!  How are you doing?” asks Val. 

“Oh Val!  I miss work, but Makda has been working hard and may have a solution soon.”

“That’s good to hear.  I brought some of your clothes down, I don’t think Doctor Al Hazred has quite your style,” he says, handing her a suitcase. 

“Thanks Val, but I’m not getting out much anyway.” 

“I’m sure we’ll be out on watch again soon,” says Val.  “Doctor Al Hazred, so you’ve found a cure?  How long will it take?”

“It depends, Inspector Ericsson.  There’s a complication.  Why don’t you stay for dinner, I can tell you all about it.  It’s no trouble at all!  I don't like to cook for one, and Harvey likes American food so; I don’t think the spice agrees with him.  He’s very into watery food.” 

“Watery food?  What do you mean, Doctor Al Hazred?”

“Tasteless, spiceless! I mean, maybe you are into that, given your background, but we from hot places know about spices.” 

“I’ll try something spicy, then,” says Val, smiling. 

            “So you need something that will penetrate her skin, but not kill her?  And you think you’ll find Nazi adamantium?  People have been looking for that for ages.  But maybe Ron can find something new on it.  Most of the Nazi treasures have been long since found.”

            “I know, it’s just frustrating.  I’m sure I have a solution that will work, but I don’t have any way to use it.”

“Couldn’t she drink it?” asks Val.  “I mean, it’s what she does, right?” 

“That’s not going to work.  She could, but her system prevents absorption of things harmful to her.”  A timer rings.  “Anyway, dinner is ready.” 

“This is really good, Doctor; I mostly go out to eat but I haven’t found middle-eastern like this.” 

“It’s not the same sort of thing you’d find out in town.  That’s mostly Lebanese, which is similar to Mediterranean cuisine. This is Sabean, what today is Yemen and parts of Eritrea and Ethiopia, and it’s where I’m from originally.  The Red Sea, not Mediterranean.  We aren’t so good at deserts, though, sorry.  But perhaps you'd like mango sorbet?  I found some at the store last time I went.”  Makda walks back towards the living room.  “What do you want to watch, Marianna?”

“I think I’d like to see The English Patient.  It was the last film I watched when I was alive.” 

“That was new the year you joined our world?  Well, I suppose it’s not too much of an adrenaline rush.”  Makda starts the movie, sitting down next to Val on the sofa, while Marianna sits on an armchair. 

“I remember the war; but I started in Finland,” says Val. 

“I was in Djibouti, close to my old home; it was Vichy French for a while, but I didn’t get involved in that and it was over soon enough.  What was I researching then?  Polio, that's right.” 

“Have you always been a researcher?”  asks Marianna.

“I guess it’s always been my passion.  I like to think that I’ve helped people.  But yes, diseases and disorders are my obsession.  Occasionally I've worked on big ones, like polio, but mostly I like to look at obscure diseases that others don't work on,” answers Makda.  “And you, Inspector?” 

“I suppose it’s much the same.  I started as a Viking, long ago.  And since, I’ve always been a soldier, then a guardsman, then eventually captain of a town guard.  One day, I solved a case of a serial killer, he killed women on pilgrimages, and I felt good about that.  I suppose I found my calling, and have kept at it,” says Val.

“That is much the same.  And Marianna?  What brought you here?” 

“I just want to do the right thing.  I can’t ever slip, for a vampire is meant to be damned and I’d never recover.  I thought being a cop would help me remember that.” 

“You’ve been remarkable so far,” says Val. 

“You helped save my town, and the world, so I hope you’ll continue your path, of course.  And whatever you decide to do, we’ll have you back to normal soon.”   

The next morning, Makda is in the pharmacy when the phone rings.

Just then the phone rings.  “Hello?....  Oh Ron, hello!...  Are you and Medina doing well?...  Of course!.... Did you find anything out?.... Really?.... Well that’s great…. What?... Oh dear… Medina knows someone? …. I’ll be up on Sunday, then.” She hangs up the phone.

“Good news, then,” says Marianna.  She’s decided to give in Makda’s suggestion to mind the store.  Makda insists that the town is small and the people nice, never any terrible customers.  Because they would be getting more than they’d bargained for, wouldn’t they? 

“You can really get it?” 

“Medina says it’s just a matter of knowing the right people.  I’ll drive up to the city on Sunday, and see what needs to be done.” 

“So I’ll be cured?”

“Count on it,” says Makda.