Chapter Twenty-Two

Birdsong woke Dumar the following day. A cacophony of high-pitched chirps from numerous different birds all singing their praises of the new day.

Dumar rose and stood in one fluid movement, padding on silent feet to the window, opening it to allow the sunlight to flood in. Gazing out at the scene before him, Dumar felt an almost uneasy sense of peace float down over him. the brazen colours and native wildlife that teemed in Grethron's garden set a scene in which almost anyone could become happy, content even.

The big man turned and surveyed some of the items he had taken from the odd, time displaced room Grethron had taken him to the previous night, causing the feelings of peace and potential contentment to dry up like autumn leaves.

There would be no peace here, Dumar thought as he picked up one of the better items he had discovered, no peace for him.

As his arms slipped into the sleeves of the bodysuit, Dumar wondered at the sensation of familiarity, as if he were returning home from a long journey.

Of course the suit had been designed around his particular ergonomics and should fit perfectly. However, this one felt slightly too large for his body; or, he thought with a wry twist of his lips, this body was marginally smaller than the one he had previously occupied.

Designed and built in the dungeon-like laboratories of the Company's headquarters, a great deal like Dumar himself, the dark green bodysuit was a marvel of technology.

A multi-functional environment suit capable of protecting its wearer from extremes of both heat and cold had been combined with a new substance the Company had developed.

Capable of absorbing and dispersing energy easily, it made the bodysuits light and flexible while being bullet-proof.

Almost as thin as a single layer of cotton, the suit enabled him a free range of movement and combined with the armoured nature of it, made it extremely useful.

Dumar smiled as he tightened the cuff straps around each wrist, snapping the fixings into place and securing the bodysuit to his frame.

He checked the machine pistol, making sure the safety catch remained engaged and placed it in a holster designed for it just below his right hip.

Delving into the grey and black backpack Dumar had appropriated, he removed a pair of boots and slipped them easily onto his feet.

Designed once again by the Company, the boots provided protection for the ankles and delicate bones of the feet while allowing maximum flexibility and utilising the latest in grip technology.

Finally drawing out the last thing he had discovered in Grethron's room of oddities, Dumar looked at the tablet he had picked up.

Although there had been a number of similar devices stacked on the shelving, they had been broken or had missing batteries while the one he currently held was fully intact and had a warning plastered across the front - 'Property of Dr. J. Dawson. The Dumar Project. EYES ONLY.'

Flipping open the solid plastic cover, Dumar flicked a switch on the side. Nothing happened. Noticing the flashing battery icon in the top right corner, Dumar left it to charge through the photovoltaic cells across its back.

Dumar had noticed his stomach rumbling as he clipped the fastenings closed on the new footwear and made the decision to find something to eat.

He closed the backpack and placed it on the bed, leaving the tablet out to charge and crossed to the door, exiting into the passageway beyond.

Unable to detect any sounds that would indicate the presence of another in the great hall, the big man decided to enter the other door that presented itself, wondering what weird shit he might come across in here.

Aromatic scents and spices permeated the entire room alongside the smells of cooking meats and wood smoke.

The kitchen looked to be well stocked, from fruits and vegetables packed neatly in racks to cooked meats and birds, both plucked and feathered, which were suspended from hooks.

Multitudes of cooking pots and utensils sat in neat stacks, polished to a high sheen and the hearth had a pile of wood and small twigs laid ready to light. A long, metal arm extended into the top of the high fireplace and a large cooking pot was suspended from it.

There were also a few instruments he could not identify, a set of spiked hooks attached to arm length wooden handles lay on a worktable alongside three coils of rough wire.

Dumar made his way over and inspected the contents of the large pot that appeared to be a stew made from some kind of meat, lightly seasoned with herbs and swimming in gravy.

Swiftly, the big man grabbed a big wooden spoon and scooped some of the stew into a bowl he found nearby, he rippedtwo thick hanks of bread from a loaf he found and began devouring the whole meal greedily.

As Dumar wiped the remaining smears of gravy from the bowl with the second chunk of bread the door opened to admit Sherilee and the young man Vilt.

All three paused as the two newcomers assessed the scene before them, heads turning from the large cooking pot to Dumar, who stood next to it with a small drop of gravy on his chin.

"Morning," Dumar eventually offered, wiping the gravy away with one fingertip.

Sherilee looked at him with what Dumar assumed was an expression of amusement.

"Good morning, my lord," she replied crossing to examine the contents of the cook pot.

"It's just Dumar," the big man stated. "I'm no lord."

Sherilee nodded and looked at the bowl Dumar held.

"Nice?" She asked with one raised eyebrow.

"Excellent!" Dumar complimented, patting his stomach.

"Yes," Sherilee continued. "Teghime seems to enjoy the flavour."

Dumar raised an eyebrow of his own.

"Teghime?" He asked.

Sherilee nodded and with a completely straight face said.

"Yes. This is a special concoction M'thar feeds to his Palta."

Dumar swallowed hard and gave the bowl into Sherilee's outstretched hand.

"That's why my tail's so swishy," Dumar said.

Sherilee smiled and Vilt uttered a small laugh before glancing around almost guiltily.

"Would you like some real food?" The cat like woman asked.

Dumar nodded in reply.

"All right then."

Dumar watched quietly for the next half an hour or so as Sherilee moved lithely about the kitchen, effortlessly mixing, kneading, slicing, grating and combining the numerous ingredients seemingly at random without measuring anything.

Vilt had been busy sparking and encouraging a fire in the hearth and a hearty blaze flickered there now. Sherilee opened a metal door above the fire and placed a tray of rounded pastries inside the large oven. Throwing the thick cloth she held to protect her hands over one shoulder, Sherilee looked at Dumar again.

"If you wish to wait in the main hall, breakfast will be served shortly."

"Anything you want me to carry in?" Dumar asked.

Sherilee looked surprised for a moment before arranging a few items upon a tray and handing it to the big man.

Probably never gets any help from anyone else. He thought.