Blood Lines

Vicki mused, passing through the indicated double doors. Even watching for it, I barely saw her check the list .
    The woman at the inner desk, while still impressive, was not the least bit reassuring. "Mr. Zottie will see you in a moment, Ms. Nelson. Please, have a seat."
    It was considerably more than a moment before the door to the Solicitor General's office opened. Vicki tried not to fidget while she waited. The weekend had passed as a non-event, their only leads unavailable. Each morning she'd tucked Henry in-unsure if she should worry that the dream continued or be grateful that it remained only a dream and he still showed no sign of seeking the sun-then went home and did laundry, a little grocery shopping, called her mother, and marked time. First thing this morning, she'd pulled a few strings to get this appointment.
    'Ms. Nelson?" Solicitor General George Zottie was a not very tall, not very slim, middle-aged man with a •full head of dark hair, heavy dark brows, and long dark eyelashes. "Sorry to keep you waiting."
    He had the firm, quick handshake of someone who'd spent time out from behind a desk and Vicki, who despised politicians on principle, considered him to be one of the best. A combination of personal integrity and a sincere respect from the combined police forces he was responsible for had kept him in this top cabinet position for his last two terms of office. If the current government won the next election, which seemed certain, his third term was pretty much assured.
    Vicki had met him three times while she'd been on the force, the last occasion only eight months before her failing eyesight forced her to quit. They'd spoken for a few moments after the presentation ceremony and that conversation had given Vicki the idea that had gotten her in to see him today; a plan to raise the profile of the police force in both elementary and high schools. In fact, it was such a good idea that she was half convinced to pursue it once the mummy threat had been taken care of. Provided, of course, that the good guys won.
    That conversation would also give her a basis for judging his-stability? Reality? For judging how much of a hold the mummy already had. Or if it had any kind of a hold at all. Anything she found out today would help to arm Henry for Saturday night.
    Following the Solicitor General into his office, she had a quick look around. With next to no peripheral vision she couldn't be subtle about it, but she figured he should be used to first time visitors rubbernecking. Unfortunately, if the mummy had been visiting, it had left no easily discernible signs. No bits of rotting bandage, no little piles of sand, not even a statue of the sphinx with a clock in its tummy.
    'Now then," he settled himself behind his desk and waved her into a chair, "about this proposal of yours…"
    Vicki pulled a pair of file folders out of her bag and handed him one. As she spoke she watched his eyes, his hands, his overall bearing, trying to spot some indication that he was being influenced, if not controlled, by a millennia-old wizard-priest. He didn't seem nervous. If anything, he seemed calmer than he had at the police reception where he'd spent the evening twitching at the collar of his jacket.
    I suppose giving up your conscious will might calm you down , she allowed as she finished up the presentation . But then, so would cutting back the caffeine .
    'Very interesting." The Solicitor General nodded thoughtfully and made a quick notation across the top of the first page. Vicki's eyes weren't up to reading his reversed handwriting although she squinted down at it while he continued.
    "Have you discussed this with public relations?"
    'No, sir. I thought I'd try to get your support first."
    'Well," he stood and came around the desk, "I'll have a look at your written proposal and get back to you say, late next week?"
    'That would be fine, sir." Vicki stood as well and slid her own copy back into her bag. Let's just hope we haven't all had our lives sucked out our noses by then . "Thank you for taking the time to listen."
    'Always willing to listen to a good idea." He paused at the door to smile up at her. "And that was a good idea. A little visible law and order at an early age might tarnish the appeal of petty crime. I'm very interested in raising the police profile in the province's schools."
    'Yes, sir, I know." She slipped past him. "That's why I'm here."
    His smile broadened. "It was a pity you had to leave the force,