P.R.I.S.M of Memories -on Hold

Chapter Eighteen

~Conrad~

I kneel on the cold stone floor several feet away from a line of occupied thrones. Sitting on each throne is a smartly dressed man or woman wearing a creepy mask. Perfectly smooth, no indentations of where the eyes, nose, or mouth should be, and each one had different luminescent silver swirls. They remind me of the runes that  were floating around Astra's car. I can't really get a good look since the thrones were cast in shadow, the light from the torches that line the walls not quite reaching them.

The tallest throne in the center is occupied by a man dressed in a fashionable blue suit. His mask lay on his lap unused. I will admit, he is a good looking guy. Had I seen him in any other setting, I would've assumed he was a model. But his face...the uneasiness in my chest grows and spreads to my stomach.

For some reason, it seems worse to me that I could see his face. Like I might be seeing too much. And the people who see or hear too much always end up dead. This has to be some kind of cult. Or maybe a secret branch of government. All these people sure look the part of a high ranking government official.

The man that sat in the center's eyebrows furrow slightly.  Damn. He looks annoyed. That can't be good for me....

"Agent Data, I believe your orders were to await us in the boardroom. Not rudely interrupt our hearing with Agent Astra."

Astra?  

I had been so occupied by the very disturbing sight of these people that I hadn't even really paid attention to the person kneeling down to my left. I turn my head and see Astra with her eyes cast downwards. Her pale blond hair free from its braids and creating a curtain that obscured most of her face from my view. She is wearing similar clothing to mine except her tunic is black.

I subtly try to catch her attention but she seems pretty focused on the floor. Data's voice takes my attention away from Astra.

"My dear Elder Aristotle, it was never my intention to interrupt your hearing. I merely assumed that you would want to question the prisoner with the accused present. Considering the severity of her crime, I thought it would only make sense that the Council would like to speak with him before coming to a just decision. As is the way of Magi."

...There's that word again. She's mentioned that word before. But the way she uses it and speaks it is full of reverence. I don't understand. I thought Astra was a terrorist but during questioning they never mentioned religion. They kinda made it sound like Astra was probably more like a gun-for-hire type terrorist. If that even exists. I'm beginning to think the CIA probably only  knew what they said was "need to know".

I turn my attention to Aristotle. ...So he is the Director. That's a strange name. Wasn't that the name of a philosopher? I struggle to remember my history. Where was he from again? Greece or was it Italy? I shake my head. It doesn't matter right now.  

Data had mentioned that I would be meeting several high ranking people and that "it would be wise for you to keep your mouth shut."  There is only silence now. I peek out of the corner of my eye to my right and see Data with her hands clasped, as if in prayer, gazing so sincerely at the Director. His steely blue eyes bore into her's.

I am overly aware of how loud I'm breathing through my nose. Stealing a glance at Astra. Half hoping for a reassuring smile or something but she hadn't moved from the position that I had last seen her in. 

Breathe in for ten seconds, breathe out for ten seconds. I keep repeating, fighting to remain calm. I can't afford a panic attack right now.  

Aristotle suddenly breaks his stony face and then laughs. The others join in as well. Soft giggles and snickers fill the air around me.