Envoy was able to locate the sisters quickly enough. They were rather agitated from the news that Icarus was nearly killed, but at the same time somewhat mollified that Envoy managed to save him. They still went to dinner as planned, a rather nice place that serves faux-steak and vegetables in all sorts of creative ways. The wait-staff were all human and dressed exceedingly well and were all actually polite and courteous to their non-human guests. They even knew Silent-Sign!

The meal ended and at Envoy's request, they returned to the consulate to see Born-In-War. The twins escorted Walter Thorndike and Elsa Daedelus to one of the 'relaxing' rooms while Envoy and Icarus went to the upper floor to meet with Born-In-War. Before they reached the top floor, Icarus actually put on the mask that was made for him. His reason was, "Out of respect."

Consulate Office
The main office for the Silent-One consulate is a huge high-ceilinged room; the entire top floor of the building. Pillars carved in the shapes of Silent-Ones in full armor reach upward as if holding the ceiling above up with their might. A black granite floor is polished to perfection beneath their feet. And at the far end of the room sits an ornate desk surrounded by plush-looking chairs.

At the far end sits the Silent-One, Born-In-War. He's reading through what always seems like an endless supply of paperwork and does not look happy. Even with the mask, it's obvious he is frowning.

"Hello, Born-in-War," Envoy says out loud, since Icarus is still learning to sign. "Have you heard the news already about the sniper?"

"I have been reading the report, yes," Born-In-War signs with his gloved hand so that it is vocalized for his guests. He folds up the paper and places it on his desk. "You have endangered my blood. How do you defend your right to retain him?"

"Wh.. what?" Envoy asks, shocked. "I.. don't understand how you came to that conclusion," she finally says. "But I was willing to give all I had to save him. And whether he is with me or not, if the attack came from the source I think it has, he will still be in danger."

"Argument accepted," Born-In-War signs. "I intended to request that the sniper be transferred to us as the attack was on one of our kind. Well, at least as the records describe Silver-Mane that were submitted; a felid alien with similar markings hinting at common ancestry. He therefore has some small matter of protection as one of us, even if not full benefits. It allows me to make formal requests related to him with the local government. I intended to have the sniper executed if the transfer is approved. Did you have alternate wishes?"

"I'd like to interrogate him," Envoy says. "Execution may not be needed, as I suspect the only reason he's still alive is because his master may want to talk to me. Then the shooter will self-destruct or something. It may only be a puppet."

"Is that so?" Born-In-War signs. "By what logic do you come to this conclusion?"

"Ah, yes. The incident before the kidnapping," Born-In-War signs. "A reasonable speculation, then."

"It would be a simple matter of using radio detection equipment to find out if there are signals coming from this one's head," Envoy points out, hoping she's right and that it is simple. "Mainly, I need to know if this was just to get my attention, or a declaration of war."

"Then I will file the request. You will be allowed to interrogate him first. If you have any particular requests for instruments of persuasion, you can file a request with the building manager," Born-In-War signs. "It is likely a transfer will not come until tomorrow. Therefore, you are welcome to stay overnight. Silver-Mane, are you feeling well? The report is vague on the extent of your injuries."

"He was shot through the chest," Envoy explains. "I'd like to check out the progress of his healing in your medical facility."

Born-In-War's mask lifts up slightly, an obvious sign of a raised brow. "He is unusually ambulatory for a chest-wound from a high-calibre weapon. Please explain," he signs.

"There are certain compatibilities between his and my biologies," Envoy says, figuring that's the easiest way to put it. "I was able to transfer my own rapid healing ability to him temporarily."

"With no side-effects or rejection?" Born-In-War asks. "Hormones and blood types are not often cross-species compatible."

"Well.. that is what I'd like to check on with your equipment, if you allow it," Envoy notes. "My tissues don't have any of the usual biological markers that would lead to rejection. They're fairly neutral, as far as typing and histamines go."

"Permission granted," Born-In-War signs. He pulls out a form, then fills in several fields and signs it. "If anyone asks, give this to them. It is authorization for usage," he signs, then lifts up the piece of paper and holds it out.

Envoy takes the documents and bows her thanks to Born-in-War. "Will it be possible to stay the night, until the prisoner transfer is made?" she asks. "I have two guests with me, though."

"Of course," Born-In-War signs, "My daughters will tend to your, and their, needs." He taps his claws on the desk top, then looks to Icarus. "Would you wish to pursue military training, Silver-Mane? If you are going to be at risk, it may be to your benefit to consider such a career."

"Uh ... " Icarus stammers and plays with his tail. "Maybe some day? Not right now, though ... I just. There is a lot for me to do and see."

"He's too young for that," Envoy insists. "He has to enjoy being a child first."

"And you were in born at a time of war," Envoy points out. "Icarus should enjoy himself while he can. He'll be an adult soon enough."

"I will respect your opinion in the matter. It is not a requirement, merely a question," Born-In-War claims. "Is there anything else you require of me? I have much paperwork to still do. In truth, at least a battlefield is honest. Bureaucracy is ... soul killing."

"I think that is all, thank you for your generosity and understanding, Born-in-War," Envoy says. "Although you could always request a secretary to help you with the bureaucracy."

"Let's got get your other mother and check you out," Envoy says quietly to Icarus, leading him towards the elevator.

Collecting Elsa from the twins was simple enough, thought it did leave poor Walter in their clutches. When they were leaving, Walter was sitting on a pillow between then. His face wore an expression that begged for rescue as the pair were tandem licking his cheeks. "Hurry back!" he pleaded as they left.

The walk to the medical bay went without incident. No one interrupted them and demanded to see papers. Perhaps because Icarus was with them and was wearing a ceremonial mask. In short order they're walking into the medical section.

Silent-One Medical Bay
The medical bay is a room perhaps twenty by twenty feet with two examination (or perhaps operating) tables bathed in bright light. Along each wall are arrays of monitoring machinery made from metal and crystal. One machine is some sort of tube that the patient stands in and the hand-symbols marked on it translate roughly as 'deep tissue examination probe'.

"I.. well, I think that's normal for normal people to feel," Envoy notes, not wanting to bring up Icarus' infancy. She gestures to the tube first. "Let's see if you're healed up properly first."

"Because you were created in a similar environment," Elsa offers, bringing it up anyway, "Subconscious memories of your early life. Nothing bad happened to you ... but it is still traumatic to someone young to be in such a cold place."

"That weird tube?" Icarus asks as he eyes it, head tilted. It takes him a few seconds of staring before he shrugs and heads towards it. After figuring out how to open it up, he steps in.

"An opto-electro-field flash scanner," Elsa remarks as she looks over the controls. Her talons make little clicks as they pass over each of the buttons. "It uses numerous spectrums to peal away layers of the body and provide a detailed view that can be cycled through."

Envoy sets the controls, and presses the big button. "You've used one before I take it?" she asks Elsa, after covering her eyes in anticipation of the flash.

"A 'borrowed' one, yes," Elsa admits. She turns her head away from the tube as Envoy presses the activation switch. Even with her eyes covered, Envoy can make out the flash as it literally was bright enough to illuminate through her hands, making them appear pale 'sacks' around her bones.

Once her vision clears, Envoy turns to the display screen, and tries to zoom in on Icarus's chest. "It should be okay to come out now, Icarus," she notes.

The tube opens and Icarus steps out rubbing his eyes. "You could have warned me it would be bright," he complains.

Elsa has come over and is peering over Envoy's shoulders as she's zooming in on his chest. At the current depth, Envoy can make out Icarus' chest muscles just below his skin surface. Though healed, there are remnants of scarring in the muscle where the bullet penetrated. There's also something odd, a spider-web like set of golden strands that have spidered out from the penetration point and into the muscle. It looks like the striations of the muscle fibers have actually been altered.

"That's unusual," Elsa notes. "Muscle fibers do not usually have that color to their sheathing. High levels of copper, perhaps?"

They extend about three inches out along the muscle fiber direction from the point of entrance.

After staring at the image for a moment, Envoy asks, "Icarus, could you get back into the scanner for one more image?"

He grumbles, but Icarus steps back into the machine. "What image do you need now? You should have several layers you can pan through," Elsa notes.

"Time," Envoy says, and presses the button again. After the flash, she explains, "I need to see if those golden strands are expanding or not."

There appears to be a way to do a side-by-side view. It doesn't look like they're expanding, at least not fast enough that the period of time allowed would show anything.

"Without doing a biopsy, I cannot say if whatever that is, is actually dangerous to his health," Elsa says. "It could just be scar tissue affected by some sort of elemental consumption."

"We'll have to check again tomorrow," the Aeolun notes, chewing on her lower lip. "Although a biopsy now would tell us more, yes. You should have everything you need here to do one, right Elsa?"

"I should. It would be a matter of drawing a sample with a syringe, then putting it under a microscope," Elsa agrees. She goes to collect what she'll need for that. The cabinets are thankfully labeled with relatively easy to understand pictograph'.

"Is something wrong? You look worried," Icarus says as he steps over ot look at what Envoy is looking at.

"Take off your shirt please, Icarus," Envoy says, smiling to the boy to try and keep him from feeling nervous. "I just need to see if you've started to develop any of my own tissue in your wound."

"I really don't know," Envoy admits. "It all depends on how it reacts to your body. If it replaces your own tissue, you'll be immortal like me.. but you'll also be a teenager forever then. And there are other issues, like differing internal organs.. and I don't know what could happen to your brain, if anything. I'd hoped to test this on one of the plant people first."

"Although it may just be limited to the healed area also," Envoy notes. "Your body doesn't have the right metabolism or nutrient variety necessary to sustain the growth of my sort of tissue, so maybe you'll just.. absorb it as your own cells replace mine."

Elsa returns with some unpleasant-looking instruments. The worst is the one with a large hollow-tube needle on the end. It will definitely take some flesh with it if it goes in. "Envoy, can you apply some lidocaine to the area you want a sample taken from?" she asks and motions towards a bottle filled with some sort of slimy-looking goo.

"Alright," Envoy says, having no idea what the goo is for - topical numbing, probably. She uses her finger to spread some over and around the proto-scale on Icarus's chest.

"It'll make this feel not so bad," Elsa says as she brings up the thick-needle. "I'm sorry Icarus, this will hurt some," she apologizes. It's hard, but her reptilian face does look a bit upset that she's going to cause pain to him. "Yes, it will. It interferes with the local neurotransmitters."

"Try to breathe out as the needle goes in. It will hurt less," Elsa explains as she positions the needle in the center of the scaled area. She waits until he's breathing out before she pushes the needle in with a firm hand. Envoy can feel Icarus' grip suddenly tighten. "Ow," he semi-squeaks.

"It'll be okay," Envoy reassures her adopted son, and watches to see how the tissue reacts when the needle is withdrawn.

Elsa deftly slides the needle back out. No sooner as the needle tip exited than the hole begins to close up right before Envoy's eyes.

Envoy is almost tempted to suggest taking a biopsy from a different area, to see if it heals with normal tissue or Aeolun tissue.. but remains silent.

Elsa turns away and now extrudes the small 'plug' of flesh a bit from the needle. She uses one of the scalpels at hand to cut thin sections of the tissue out onto a couple small glass slides. Next comes a reddish dye in an eye dropper that she applies to one of the slides, then drops a clear lens over it. The other slide she leaves alone, save for its clear cover. "There. Now to take a look," she says as she takes her tray over to the counter where a dual-port microscope sits. She fits a slide under each of the ports, then peers into the device.

"Does it use polarized light?" Envoy asks. "If they are my cells, certain details will only show up with that sort of illumination. But if they lack nuclei that will be the biggest indicator."

"That's ... unusual," Elsa comments as she starts writing some notes. Probably not the sort of thing people want to hear from a doctor. She tries several spectra of light next, including polarized. "Very unusual."

Squeezing Icarus's hand again, Envoy asks, "Are you seeing cellular hybridization?"

"There are nuclei," Elsa states while she continues to look into the scope, "But there are also sub-components that only show up under certain directions of polarized light. A hybrid cell is the best description, yes. It's not quite his normal cells, as I know those intimately ... but it isn't what you describe as your own, either."

"Oh, that's probably good then," Envoy says, with a bit of relief. "Although if it spreads his diet will need to be altered to compensate."

"I can't say if it will spread or not. But it at least appears his body isn't rejecting it, which would cause serious complications," Elsa says as she shuts off the scope and turns back to face them. "I honestly can't tell you what will happen. Icarus was a unique design in interspecies union to begin with. We had to make his cells be adaptive and accepting of what would normally be completely incompatible. Worst case, how would his diet have to change, do you think?"

"Union ... oh! You mean I'm a chimera," Icarus reasons out after apparently having to think for something in his memory that would possibly mean the same thing. "Something made from other things."

"Well, I have to supplement my own with charcoal, chalk and silica every so often," Envoy notes. "So he may need more minerals. Hopefully he won't need to eat dirt though for nitrogen."

Icarus makes a 'bleh' face, then rubs his forehead with his free hand. "Uh ... " he starts to say.

Smiling, Envoy says, "Don't worry! I'm sure if this adaptation spreads, your normal organic digestion process will supply the necessary nitrogen and sulfur."

"Oh.. I don't know," Envoy replies, staring at Icarus's forehead. "My horn extends through my skull and into my brain core though. I'm not sure it would serve a function on you, besides making you look cool."

Icarus sticks out his tongue. "Well I don't. That was to get you back for suggesting I might have to eat dirt. But ... you are just impossible to make worry," he complains.

"I was worried that I'd given you immortal, unstoppable cancer before Elsa gave us the microscopy results," Envoy notes, all smiles.

"Ow," Envoy says after a moment. "On the bright side, the hybrid cells can store more energy than your normal ones - and those stored a good deal to begin with."

Elsa just shakes her head as she goes back to the scan results and starts flipping through them layer by layer. "Hm," she mutters, her brow-ridge furrowed.

"Anything unexpected?" Envoy asks the doctor. "Have his crystal nodes multiplied?"

"The latter," Elsa agrees, sounding slightly surprised that Envoy guessed what it was so quickly. "The original structures were only about one hundred-thousand micro-interconnects between the emitter nodes and the actual quantum manipulator. There are over a million now if I'm estimating correctly and the nodes themselves have been altering. They don't look the same as they did seven decades ago."

"He's been practicing," Envoy points out. "Maybe they're responding to that, like.. developing a muscle or how learning a new physical skill will rewire the motor cortex."

"That would imply the Sifrian components are themselves 'living' in a sense," Elsa says as she continues to zoom in and out of the layers. "And unfortunately most of that research was done only by Von Bronson himself. We didn't do as much with trying to understand the lattice. He's just ... very different from the boy I designed seven decades or more ago."

"He's a boy who's standing here while you talk like he wasn't," Icarus mutters to himself. "I'm not a thing."

"I'm sorry," Elsa says. She leans forward a bit, using her hand on the screen frame to steady herself. "I'm used to keeping separation when speaking about a patient or project. It helps in staying impartial. It's not that I think of you anything less than you really are. Thirteen, Icarus, you're still the child I helped bring into this world and one I did everything to try and save. You meant the world to me then and you still do. It's just ... I still see just the blueprint when I look in these pictures. It's like looking at a sketch of the painting. The design, not the beautiful creation it came to be."

"Speaking of blueprints," Envoy notes, "we have to erase those scans when you're done looking through them."

"Worried they would ask questions I would rather not answer," Envoy says. "Von Bronson's research into crystal symbioses was far too costly in lives sacrificed - it does not need to be repeated."

"I share as much responsibility in that as he does," Elsa notes, "Their blood is on my hands as well as his." She taps a bit on the screen and the various layers begin to vanish as the delete cycles.

Envoy hmms. "I should do a scan as well, to see if my own crystals have begun forming new connections," she says, and steps into the tube. "Flash me when you're ready, Elsa."

"Quick, lock her in and we'll go get pizza," Icarus urges Elsa. Elsa just gives him a funny look.

"You shouldn't joke about pizza, Icarus," Envoy says with a pout. "I'm still hungry after that energy transfer."

"There's just no blocking the light," Envoy complains as she blinks her eyes clear.

"Bring up my skull," she says as she steps out of the tube. "I want to make sure my brains are still there."

"That is the point of a deep tissue scan," Elsa points out as she taps the screen and brings up Envoy's skull. There sure seems to be brain tissue in there with her horn going right into it. Adjustting the depth a bit brings out the Sifrian etchings in the horn ... and those feed into her brain too. They've even begin to wrap around the other hard inorganic components of her brain.

"It's growing," Envoy notes. "I don't have the processing capabilities that are inherent in Icarus though. Pan down to my arms please."

Down the screen pans. Envoy's forearms and fingers are a spiral of her 'normal' bone combined with the crystal 'intruder'. It almost looks like an art sculpture.

"That's also grown," Envoy notes, and flexes her fingers. "Since my bones are crystalline, it may be able to propagate along them faster."

"Possible. Have you noticed any change in sensations?" Elsa asks, "Loss of feeling or enhanced feeling, for example? Temperature differences?"

"Doing that may be what is causing the growth," Elsa notes, "As it may be trying to increase its reception."

"Icarus sees the world in a bit more depth than I do," Envoy notes, smiling to the boy. "It's very pretty."

"I do?" Icarus asks. "He does?" Elsa asks, "There was no design for an enhanced retinal system, outside of some borrowed cone density aspects from a vartan."

"Look into his eyes, and tell me what you see?" Envoy asks Elsa with a big grin on her face.

Elsa grabs a small medical light as she goes to Icarus. She cups his chin in one scaly hand while she peers into his eyes, using the light to examine them a bit better. "That's ... the pigments have taken up aspects of the lattice. It's like ... is that possible? It shouldn't be possible."

"Aren't they gorgeous?" Envoy asks. "Maybe I can let him see how I - and probably most people - see.."

"It's like the crystal itself is alive and learning from him, and adapting to him. That would imply it, in itself, is some sort of lifeform," Elsa muses.

"It is as much a lifeform as I am, I'd guess," Envoy says, and then closes her eyes and thinks: Synchronize.

The world seems much stranger when there are two separate sensory inputs going on at the same time. Envot finds herself looking, well, at herself. It's not quite like looking in a mirror, though. There is a rolling soft light that seems to surround her body, surging and ebbing like waves on the shoreline. From her current viewpoint, even her horn seems to sparkle with light, its outer shell looking translucent instead of solid, betraying the network of energy within it.

Envoy focuses now. Transferring data is a basic function of her brain, and without Probe her own sensory input is filtered nearly as much as a human's. She does the mental gymnastics needed to make it accessible, and says, "Icarus, if you touch my horn you should be able to see like I normally see."

And Icarus' way of touching it turns out to be the hybrid grabbing it. Everything seems to turn upside down for both of them. It's practically stomach-churning. There's this snap and suddenly Envoy loses one of the two feeds of senses. All she sees is herself. That is, her Aeolun body standing before her. She can't feel her wings anymore, and she feels rather ... gangly. "Uhm," her body says in front of her, "Am I supposed to be in your head?"

The Aeolun's eyes then blink three times and then remarks, "Everything seems ... flat. Well, visually anyway..."

"I had not expected this level of synchronization," the hybrid cheetah notes, looking around with interest. He even studies Elsa for unusual energy patterns. Then he tries to sing through some musical scales.

Elsa looks ... odd. It's like there are two images overlayed on each other. One is an older woman, sad and tired, an after-image almost. The dominant form is reptilian and there's a slightly blue tint around that, possibly from absorption of heat from the air. As for singing ... boy does it come off-key. Not being able to do two tones at once is very limiting.

"I think I can see your spirit, Elsa," not-quite-Icarus says while rubbing his throat.

"I have a huge nose now," not-quite-Envoy complains as she grabs the nostrils and tugs on them this way and that. Next comes the sticking out of her tongue in various weird ways.

"Be careful of the tail and wings," not-Icarus notes. Then he reaches over to touch not-Envoy's horn to try and switch things back to normal.

As not-Icarus is reaching towards the horn, she 'hears' something in aelfin say, "Point fold, one unit." There's a flash and the next thing not-Icarus sees is his arm stuck into a swirling pool of light! About three feet past not-Envoy's head is another swirling pool ... and a white-furred hand sticking out of it!

"Okay. I've never seen that before," Elsa admits as she absently scratches at her scaly-neck and sheds a few scales here and there.

"Aaugh!" not-Icarus yelps! "No, I don't want a wormhole!" He slowly pulls his arm back.

It oddly feels like pulling an arm out of jello! There's an audible pop, and out comes his hand. The swirl vanishes.

"Alright, I have no handle on Icarus's abilities," not-Icarus admits. "And Icarus doesn't know Aelfin." He closes his eyes and thinks, "Synchronization status?"

"Discontinue synchronization and restore localized awareness," not-Icarus thinks.

notEnvoy briefly wonders if this is what feeling like being flushed down a toilet is like, because everything spins. The next thing she realizes is she's back where she should be, and still feel hungry.

"Okay, I think I can call that the weirdest thing ever," Icarus admits as he pats himself down to be sure. "Your body feels funky."

"I would ask what just happened, but I don't think I would understand the answer," Elsa admits.

Envoy sniffs at her armpit to see if she needs a bath. "Well, my energy reserves are low," she admits. "I think we should collect Walter and order a half-dozen pizzas. And milkshakes. Hot cocoa for Elsa."

Envoy discovers she smells slightly like sour milk. "Should we invite Setting-Sun and Rising-Star to eat pizza too? We can ask them when we go get Walter," Icarus asks.

"Yes, but if you guys are still hungry we should order extras," Envoy notes as she gets up. "I need a bath, I think. Oh, and I'll have to tell you about the time Mage Qing put my spirit into a candle-flame. I think you'll be able to relate to it now."

Thinking of something, Elsa goes and grabs the cell-slide-samples she prepared and pockets them in her -lab coat'. "As you said, things shouldn't be left behind," the reptile notes. "So, yes, lets go have a normal meal."