28: Worming Out

"Orwen, this is the third time this week where I've been forced to interfere in your scuffles with your teammates. If this keeps on repeating, I'm not sure you'll be able to accomplish a single thing here, let alone reaching the goal you set out for." Captain Galloway sounded tired as he ruthlessly smacked a purple seal on a stack of documents on his desk.

Sitting on the chair opposite to him, Orwen's countenance appeared even worse as he replied. "They were the ones who started it the last two times! Am I supposed to kneel to their stupid demands just because we're working together as a group? Ridiculous!"

Galloway smashed his seal down so hard that the desk let out a dangerous creak. "The first impression you gave them was terrible. Of course they're going to discriminate against you in the group assignments. You're not so immature that you can't walk around a few unsavory tasks. Why do you end up turning it into a fight every time?"

"Because I deserve better than that," Orwen said stubbornly. "A more just treatment would have been to let them taste what spiritual corruption feels like. Yup, that'd be the right punishment."

Galloway threw the seal at the wall behind Orwen, missing his head by inches intentionally. In his fury, he seemed half tempted to tear apart the documents he was working on, but he controlled himself at the last second and sighed.

"The world is a harsh place, Orwen. Justice is a blessing that only strong people can bask in. In this case, you're not strong enough to declare what's right and what's not."

Orwen's gaze drifted away, moving to the window behind Galloway, seemingly focused on something outside.

"Is that the Deputy's jeep?"

Galloway jumped to his feet and peeked out of the window. A bulky six-wheeler was visible entering the station premise in a hurry, nearly crashing into two other vehicles in the parking spot. A short, frail-looking man in a loose uniform rushed out of the jeep without acknowledging the salutes being directed at him from the officers outside the station.

Galloway cursed under his breath and jogged out of his office, equally tense. Orwen followed his trail with a sneer plastered on his face.

"Captain Galloway!" came a shout from ahead as the Deputy burst into the office corridor. "Give me the damn keys!"

Galloway's sprint slowed down in the middle of the corridor as his confusion skyrocketed. He even forgot to salute.

"Er... Deputy Mercell?"

"The keys! Give me the damn keys to your lockup!" The Deputy screeched rather uncharacteristically. Without waiting for Galloway to respond, he leaped closer and snatched the keychain from Galloway's waistbelt.

"Wha- Why?" Galloway ran after the fuming Deputy who hadn't even stopped to explain. Orwen made way for them inside the corridor passively, eyes glued to the Deputy's face like a hawk. Seeing both of them disappear inside the lockup chamber, he let out a chuckle and went outside the station to sit near the parking space, his nonchalance forming a stark contrast to the dozens of other officers in the station who crowded the corridor's mouth out of curiosity. Their hushed whispers and nervous, uncertain gazes made Orwen want to yell at them that he knew what was going on; that all of their assumptions were wrong.

On second thought, he didn't need to feel validated, at least not when the validation came from these peasant lowlives. So he kept his silence and waited for the real drama to begin. He didn't have to sit for long. A couple of minutes later, Deputy Mercell strode out of the station with a sputtering Galloway following him. There was a cuffed middle-aged man being dragged along by the Deputy beside Galloway. Orwen recognised him at a glance. In fact, he had been half-ready to see that man walk out free. He was the one who had arrested him, after all.

"What am I supposed to write in my case diary? The magistrate will want to see some official papers!" Galloway said in a pleading tone as the Deputy shoved the detainee into his jeep.

"I'll handle it. Just direct his enquiry to my office," Deputy Mercell replied dismissively. "This is a special issue. Don't spread the details if you can help it."

Galloway could only watch in silence as the door of the jeep banged shut on his face and the wheels began to spin. The criminal cheerfully waved his cuffed hands at Galloway through the rolled-up window. He did not seem to have an iota of concern about being shifted from the lockup off records.

Orwen sauntered over right behind him and sniffed the dust left by the jeep's trail.

"Don't feel so aggrieved, Captain. The world is a harsh place. You're not powerful enough to tell him what's right and what's not."

Galloway was silent for a long time, chewing on his own words. He broke his silence saying, "You said that guy was from a cult."

"I did, yes." Orwen agreed. "And there's a reason why I didn't speak its name."

"Is it the same reason why the declassification request I sent to the board never came back with a response?" Galloway said.

"Mm-hm." Orwen glanced at the wide-eyed crowd of officers behind them scathingly. "Sometimes, most people just don't have the qualifications to take what they need. You're not above that rule. I'm not above that rule. But I am above you in that yardstick."

"....I know." Galloway sighed and went back into the station, shouting at the other officers to resume their work.

Orwen closed his eyes and activated a frequently used mutation, known in the official records as the Lifeseeker Spore. He had left a few spores inside the jeep while waiting here. Now was the time to utilize some.

As if an extension of his perception had always existed inside the jeep, his mind suddenly received a series of sensory inputs that framed a vague picture. His spores did not percieve the world the way he did. But the mutation allowed his mind to interpret and synchronize the data received through the connection.

The jeep's fast vibration spoke of a hurried drive. There were two major life signatures nearby, and one of them very familiar to him– a life signature consisting of the most radical, chaotic genetic reforms that could possibly exist without spiralling out of control. Not even the twelve architects would design such insanity.

"I wonder if pulling you worms out of your holes would count as a big enough merit," Orwen whispered.