Ryven: Lost Time

Cerra Manor
Huola VII
Ryven's Suite
4/2  YC 115  1800

Ryven lay awake on his large, but nondescript bed.  His room was not lavishly decorated, but instead seemed the expected blend of Caldari and Amarrian influences.  There were some references to Caldari bands, including some jazz/electronic fusions.  He was smoking a cigarette, his eyes staring up at the vaulted ceiling.  His eyes peered up through the dark and the haze of cigarette smoke and past the ceiling and into the universe, bending backward and inward onto himself.  From this deep reverie, the chirping of his neocom pulled him crashing back into the present.  He pressed a button, and heard Leela's voice.

"Ry, we need to talk." Her voice was dripping with urgency and something else that he guessed must be trepidation, or even fear.

His curiosity was piqued.  "What's up?"

"No.  In person." 

"That serious?" He wasn't surprised.  Leela's life was secrets.  Strangely, she was also the most honest person he knew.

"It's about your episode.  The lost time." She hesitated. "I think I know what's going on."

Ryven sighed, relieved. His mind had been returning to that constantly.  As an immortal, he was the pinnacle of human power, and even more so, an embodiment of the will to power.  What an immortal wills, he can realize.  If he cannot master himself, however, then he is still a slave.  This is no simple contradiction, but one filled with paralyzing paradox.  It eats away at the belief, and the immortality loses its potency.

"Okay.  I'm on my way."

                                        ***************************************
Undisclosed Location
"Safe House"
4/2 YC115 2300

When he arrived at the safe house, navigating through the maze of safeguards and false corridors, he came upon Leela and Zhou, both seated on a surprisingly comfortable looking sofa in the house's living room.  They both looked concerned, their eyes probing him, but neither speaking.  He sat down on a chair across the coffee table from them, leaning forward, fingers interwoven in a plaintive gesture.   He studied them both, seeing the signs of their closeness.  He allowed himself a moment of happiness at the way they had both found each other.  However, his need, his desperate need for answers overrode his interest in their blooming romance.

Leela broke the silence, her voice seeming both tiny and infinite, booming in the confines of the safe house, but fragile, the crystal ringing of champagne glasses. "I've uncovered what I believe is the answer to your episode."

Ryven nodded, clearly impatient. "Okay, so out with it."

She shook her head. "First, I have a question."  She placed a slender finger on her lips, thinking how best to proceed. "Are there any other periods of your life where your memories are, well... alien to you, or perhaps lost much as this recent episode was?"

Ryven shook his head, but then stopped, his mind reverting back to his time in J.D. Gaffa, Inc.  There was a period of missing time.  He had some memories, but they didn't make sense.  They never really had, honestly.  But, he was a different person then, guided by his every whim, not by purpose.  He had not given it much thought and had chalked it up to stress/drugs/shock/whatever.  He nodded. "Yes.  Seven or eight months of periodic lapses."

Leela nodded. "Two to three years ago, yes?  Before your time up in Deklein, before you left JDGI?"

His eyes widened. "Yes.  Exactly."

She nodded. "Tell me, does the name Dr. Silas Tobit ring any bells?"