Without further commotion, the doctor Duplicated, forming a second identical body and stepped through the wall of the incarceration chamber. Dorn watched with unmitigated apprehension as the creatures took bored notice of the visitor standing quiet and motionless in their center.
"Their minds are linked." The copy of the doctor that remained outside the structure sounded fascinated. Dorn waited for something he didn't already know.
"Their lethargic state is due to…grief."
Grief?
"They are horrified with themselves. Confused. Concerned. Afraid." The final observation was whispered in a near awed sadness. Dorn knew he was well into his exam by this display of emotion from the usually monochromatic doc. "Something…something in the boy triggered it. Their reaction was highly unusual."
"What does that mean?"
The doc stretched his hand out and touched the forehead of one of the creatures with a bony pale digit. Dorn wished he'd told him about their power infiltration abilities now. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't worry but in this operation, nothing was certain. Allowing the creatures unfettered access to someone with the powers of the farechtera could be a fatal error.
"I am aware of their ability." The doc moved his hand to the next creature. The one he'd already touched stretched out on the floor and closed its eyes.
"They're resting. They've not rested since the ordeal. It seems…that their combined remorse has decimated the limbic system which has led them to this near comatose state. Remarkable." He methodically touched each one and each submitted as the first had done. "It's almost as if their very soul is infused with their bodies, inasmuch as their minds and concentrated beliefs alter it. That should mean that when they are all angry, they become mutually strong, and when they are all grieved, they are mutually weak."
The doc exited the chamber and rejoined the first version of his body, then turned his clear gaze to Dorn. "I have to wonder what would happen when they are all full of joy. Or…pride. Or love."
Dorn angled his head and stared at the group of sleeping creatures, curious, now. "I have no clue. We haven't had a lot of time with them."
"I would like to spend time with them, if that's okay. See what sort of developments I can encourage." He turned back to the creatures. "I'd also like to meet the human they attacked to attempt to isolate the cause and learn if it can be replicated."
Relief flooded Dorn. "Yes. Indeed. That would be immensely appreciated in our reckless world-saving franchise."
The doctor nodded once, slowly. "I presume Earth has come with tidy vestibules of insufferable mayhem."
A burst of laughter came before Dorn could stop it. To hear such a vocabulary was equivalent to a war lust ménage with his Brothers. His cranium felt as if it expanded and stretched toward the stimulation in a manner similar to the opening of the petals of a heliotropic flower at sunrise. Dorn patted the doc on the back in gratitude. The immovable frame of dense muscle reminded him how the good doc's physical strength was at complete odds with his almost frail appearance. He was a force to be reckoned with, being a farechtera and having a wide variety of supernatural powers unrelated to his medical practice.
"You would be absolutely correct." Dorn hoped his humorless smile said as much as his words about the unending catastrophe. "Although the vestibules are far from tidy, and the mayhem spews rapidly."
"Perhaps I can cultivate some surprise advantages that will serve you well in this witless war of bone and plasma."
Alarm filled Dorn at the mention of surprise. Sally had used that word the other day with enthusiastic joy. He didn't like the concept at all. It was the correspondent of uncertainty and confusion, two of his newest and seemingly constant enemies. He needed to have a deep bro-talk with Kassern and Toren and find out what on this demon-infested green Earth she was going on about. She'd mentioned anniversary as well. He couldn't fathom of what, since they'd only been consummated for approximately…eight weeks. Did anniversary not imply yearly?
"Shall I have quarters set up for you at our compound? Or would you prefer to work with them at Aesculapius' Grotto?" Dorn secretly hoped he'd take them out of their hair and off of the planet.
"My efforts will be far more effective in their native environment. I won't need to allow time for them to acclimate and it will give me an opportunity to adapt my own powers to a new habitat."
"Are you sure?"
The farechtera stared at Dorn, puzzled, and Dorn realized belatedly the doc had not been in human company long enough to comprehend such a concept as ambiguity. Dorn resisted a snort, or maybe even a derisive snicker. One week. That's about how long it would take for the doc to become intimate with rampant uncertainty. Quite intimate.