She stared at the Doctor’s face before almost secretively taking it from his hand.
“The application to the Broilerhouse for your social security compensation has already gone in, but it takes a bit of time for the approval to come through. So, in the meantime, this is your property. Ask Oeufcoque for the PIN, I don’t know it.”
No man had ever given her money in this way before. Balot stared at the Doctor’s face with trepidation. The Doctor suddenly turned serious.
“Indeed. So. Looks like this is going to be the first test of your abilities. It’s certainly worth doing before we go to the courtroom, I suppose. I’m praying that you’ll be able to
Balot didn’t understand the Doctor’s words. She just looked at Oeufcoque, still perched on her shoulder. This mouse had listened to her heart in a way no one ever had before. And with a precision that no counselor could ever hope to match. There were still loads of things she wanted to talk about and countless things she wanted him to understand.
Right now, that was everything to Balot.
Balot returned to the room she had been allocated—the old morgue—and opened up the packages one by one, laying their contents out on the bed. She lifted up black leather and placed it against her skin. It was a rather snug little outfit. No skirt, but shorts.
Oeufcoque stared at the outfit, nonplussed.
“Ah…” he exclaimed, rather unenthusiastically.
Balot shrugged her shoulders and showed him the next outfit. This time they were normal pants, the blouse sleeveless, and Balot indicated by gesturing that she would add arm-warmers to it.
“Um, yeah… You know what, Balot, I’ll wait in the Doctor’s room. Come and get me when you’re finished.”
After speaking Oeufcoque jumped off the desk and walked to the door on his two feet.
When he was directly below the doorknob he leapt up—quite a jump for a mouse—and turned the knob, opening the door. He landed and was about to walk out of the room when Balot pinched the suspenders holding up his pants and hoisted him into the air.
“I’m not really one to ask for advice on feminine aesthetics, you know. And I’m not too keen on being called a Peeping Tom again…” Oeufcoque said somewhat miserably.
Balot pursed her lips and closed the door, putting Oeufcoque onto the bed.
She then took some clothes and ran into the bathroom with them. After a while Oeufcoque stood up and got off the bed, and just then the bathroom door opened. Still in her underwear she gestured at Oeufcoque to stay put. Her face showed unease rather than anger. Like when she said she was afraid at the display on the Doctor’s desk.
“Fine, fine. I’ll wait—no, stand guard—here. Don’t you worry.”
Balot still looked a little anxious, but she carried on and closed the bathroom door anyway.
“You’d be able to sense what was happening on this side of the door, you know. You’re still very insecure because you’re uncomfortable with your new powers, I suppose. Or no, maybe that’s why you’re so anxious—it’s your new powers that bring home the fact that no one is there,” Oeufcoque muttered, grumbling, and flopped down on his side. He gazed at the ceiling for a while, and then Balot was staring down at him.
Balot was wearing a black outfit. Her neckline—and just below it—were exposed, and her hair hung straight down. Her hair was newly grown—regenerated by the Doctor from the remnants of her old hair—so she didn’t tie her hair up or else a lot of it would have fallen out. The sleeves extended to her fingertips, covering the backs of her hands with triangular pieces of cloth, her middle fingers jutting through holes in the fabric. Underneath the shorts the stockings covered her legs perfectly, and she staggered unsteadily in her knee-high boots toward an abruptly rising Oeufcoque, twisting her body from left to right. Oeufcoque searched for the right words, but all he could come up with was, “I think it’s nice.”
Then, craning his neck: “Not too tight?”
When Balot heard this, she squeezed both arms together. Her attitude suggested that she preferred a snug fit. She looked like someone was hugging her, warmly. She took some fashion belts from the packages and fastened a few tightly around her hips and stomach and also her legs. Over this she put on a leather jacket. She looked like she was bound from head to toe. As if she would be snatched away if she didn’t wrap up tight.
She dropped in on the Doctor before leaving the building.
“Hmm… I like to think that my own doctor’s whites are something special, but I think I may have met my match with your outfit.”
Balot scowled a little at the Doctor’s honesty.
“It looks like we’re in for a chilly night tonight. Don’t get caught out just because spring’s begun. And make sure you take your medicine with you. There are still a few places where your cortex hasn’t completely stabilized.”
Balot made a gesture in front of her outfit
“Well then, shall we head off?”
Oeufcoque, on Balot’s shoulder, changed his shape with a squelch. He
Not so much a pendant as a dog tag.
Balot touched this, entwined it in her fingers as if she were meditating on it. When she let go the piece of metal had become an egg-shaped piece of crystal, and from inside it a gold-colored mouse winked.
The Doctor looked at the pendant with a complex expression.
“Our current client seems to be very good at telling us how things should be, doesn’t she?”
“Well, it’s good that we’re flexible enough to offer a variety of different services…”
Oeufcoque’s voice, serious to the last.
“Can we reconfirm that we have all our necessary documents, Doctor? And can you let the public prosecutor know about our deferred court appearance? There’s always the possibility of doing it by proxy, but the question is whether that would be enough to get the Broilerhouse moving.”
“The court doesn’t move according to an individual’s convenience, you know. It’s a power game—and a money game—run by the letter of the law.”
“Yes, and I’m not about to start playing a game that goes against the interests of the Concerned Party in this case.”
“Sure, sure. Well, I’ll look for something constructive to do.”
“Sorry about earlier.” The voice sounded a bit different now. In tone, if not timbre.
“Uh, in what way?”
“I hurt your feelings. But thank you. And I’ll be sure to pay you back your money.”
“Um…more importantly than that, would you mind not using Oeufcoque’s voice when you’re speaking? It’s pretty disconcerting.”
Balot touched the crystal with her hand.
She made a sound much more high-pitched than Oeufcoque’s voice. She opened her mouth and took a wheezy breath. Like a draft in a wind tunnel.
“She’ll get it back one step at a time, you’ll see. Step by step.” This time it was the real Oeufcoque who spoke, in his real voice.
02
Balot took one step out of the doorway and stood still. She looked petrified.
She closed her eyes and felt the sunlight, read her surroundings with her body. There were no disruptions in the surrounding air.
No men appeared to be waiting at the bend in the road, ready to ambush her.
From beyond the buildings in the distance that intersected like a chess board, she heard the noise of a gasoline-powered car.
Everything was different from anything Balot had ever before experienced.
