Chapter Text
Cecilia lost count of how many times she’d been down that same elevator. The women who manned the archivum changed throughout the years, but the great shelves always remained the same. An unchanging monument to history. So unchanging, in fact, that despite visiting this place regularly, Cecilia had only a handful of relevant memories to recall.
And this just might be one she remembered.
After almost 15 years, she finally had a lead on what happened to Zamira. The Military Consul for the year nominated a certain ‘General Monkey’ to be promoted to Junior Matrón. Nothing out of the ordinary, but the woman’s name was so peculiar. Why would someone name their panpour child ‘Monkey’?... That was almost cruel if you asked her.
So, Cecilia did a little digging. Not to oppose the promotion or get dirt on the woman, god’s no. She was just curious. After some rudimentary searches, she managed to find some records of her deployments, as well as a few records being held in the Oracle’s section of the archivum.
Not too out of the ordinary, until Cecilia read the deployment schedules. Almost exactly coinciding with Zamira’s departure from the capital, this simipour was assigned to the first unit that was tasked with tracking her down and ‘helping her’. The same unit that allegedly knew what happened to her.
It made her jelly tingle just thinking about it. This was the best lead she has ever gotten. Though the logical part of her brain was skeptical this would work, she couldn’t help but smirk all the way to the Oracle’s sublevel.
When she finally arrived, it turned around, eyes blinking in sequence. Scanning... “Cecilia! Good to see you!”
“Good to see you too, Oracle.”
“What can I help you with?”
“I’m looking for the personal records of a particular ‘General Monkey’.”
Its eyes turned orange. “Why is that?”
“She has been recommended for a promotion to Junior Matrón and I just want to make sure she’s clean.”
After a bit of calculating, the Oracle’s eye returned to yellow, “Very well.” Then went rigid as it scanned through its data banks.
Easy, as always.
After a moment’s silence, the Oracle returned to normal. “I have recent written records that have not been sorted that may pertain to this individual.”
“I am looking for something a bit... older than that.”
“How old?”
“What’s the oldest you got?”
“The oldest pertaining to any individual named ‘Monkey’ is a stack of chiseled records dating ::14 May 2496 Standard Commune Calendar::” The date was relayed with a shrill howl.
Cecilia winced. She still hated that. “S-sorry, you said May 22, 2496?”
“Affirmative.”
A jolt in her jelly. That was the week Zamira left the Commune. “I will take those records.”
“Very well. Follow me.” Its body rotated exactly 90 degrees, and began hovering down an aisle of shelving. So far so good. This lead was looking very promising.
The shelves whizzed by, Oracle turning this way and that. Cecilia could remember the first time following the Oracle and how winded she got. A tiny chuckle. It was nothing now.
“Here.” The Oracle stopped instantaneously, then scanned a stack of slabs. “Personal written diary logs of: Private Monkey, Corporal Monkey, Lieutenant Monkey.” Its eyes blinked for several seconds. “There does exist several telegraph recording devices in substrata 94-122 titled: Captain Monkey, Lt. Col Monkey-”
“It’s-” She grunted. “It is fine, Oracle. I will take the written documents for now.”
“Very well.”
One by one it began to pick up the records and place them in a nearby box. Cecilia’s endoskeleton ached just looking at it.
With an awkward twist of her fin, Cecilia managed to input the keycode to her estate. The double doors slid open, revealing the grand foyer inside. A large crystal hung from the ceiling, illuminating the whole room.
“That you honey!?” Her husband shouted a few rooms away.
“Yes!”
“I am making dinner! Did you want anything!?”
“In a bit!” She tapped the button on the wall, doors behind her closing shut.
“You going to your office!?”
“Yes!”
“I will bring it up in a bit!”
A sigh. Bless his heart. She didn’t deserve a man as patient as him.
Cecilia swam up along the large stone staircase in the center of the foyer, then turned right. Four doors down and to the left was a small hallway, where at its end was her office. She pressed her head into another wall button, swam through the door, then finally heaved the box on to her table with a loud grunt.
She deflated onto the floor, breathing heavily, catching her breath. If she could have it her way, she would make the Oracle do the carrying. He was built for it. “‘But noooo’ they say, ‘you cannot violate tradition like that!’” She groaned. “When will they reverse engineer those inverse gravity runes?...”
When she circulated enough water through her jelly, she got up off the floor and swam into her chair. Yesterday’s dinner was still uneaten on its plate. A sigh. No wonder Zamira never ate...
She reached into the box, grabbed the earliest sketched slab, leaned back, and prepared herself for a night of reading.