“Roshanak… the lab equipment log shows you signed out the defective canister.” The whisper cut through the receding brass horns. Roshanak’s gaze snapped to Laleh, whose chin shook beneath glistening lashes. Analytical clarity displaced any lingering shock from the rodent assault. “The ethics board will convene immediately,” a metallic voice boomed from the comm-unit, which Laleh still clutched. “All parties involved are to present themselves before the Auric Panel within the hour. Failure to comply will result in immediate suspension of all clinical privileges and permanent revocation of Citadel access.” The line went dead. One hour. To explain a Tier IV noise violation, a catastrophic rot contamination, and now, a falsified supply sheet. Roshanak felt the familiar prickle of social anxiety, the one that made her want to retreat into the quiet logic of her experiments, but this time, it was laced with something far more dangerous: a predatory clarity. *** The Auric Panel room offered no concessions to comfort. Three members of the ethics board occupied the raised bench, stone-still. Rector Kian stood in the center, his beard trimmed to a severe line, eyes unblinking. To Roshanak’s left, Behrouz Jahandar, impeccable even after battling gherbil-rats, watched with cool disdain despite the slight twitch beside his ear. To her right, Laleh Safavi wept discreetly into a silk handkerchief, a picture of traumatized innocence. “Master Bahrami,” Rector Kian began, his voice flat as slate, “the charges against you are severe. Gross negligence in handling volatile pathogens, leading to a containment breach and wild mutations within a Level III testing facility. A Tier IV noise violation originating from your immediate vicinity, causing structural cracks in the Dar-al-Hikma. And now, evidence indicating you knowingly signed out faulty equipment, precipitating the outbreak.” Roshanak’s prepared defense evaporated under the glare. “Rector, the containment glass was intact when Laleh brought it to me. The record must be… erroneous.” “Erroneous?” Kian raised an eyebrow. “The Dar-al-Hikma’s sensory validation system is infallible. Your dermal print and retinal scan are affixed to the manifest for substandard Unit 734-B, logged mere hours before the breach.” He pointed to a brass projector displaying Roshanak’s scanned identity beside an entry stamped ‘DEFECTIVE: FOR DISPOSAL ONLY.’ Laleh let out a small, shuddering intake of air. “Oh, Roshanak, I watched you approve it! I thought… I thought you knew it was for disposal, but then you brought it into the lab anyway!” Her voice cracked. Roshanak stared at her, skin prickling cold. Before Roshanak could answer, the double doors flew open. Kavadh Firooz strode in, his face gray and theatrical, clutching a crushed bunch of crimson roses. “It was me! I’m the culprit! I… I tampered with the glass to impress her! I wanted to show her my strength, my passion!” He thrust the roses towards Roshanak. “Forgive me, my white moonlight!” Kian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Security! Remove this… disturbance.” “Wait.” Behrouz’s voice cut through the room like a scalpel. He stepped forward, eyes leveled on Roshanak. “Rector, this is preposterous. Bahrami is many things—infuriating, overconfident in her flawed hypotheses, and far too prone to using obsolete centrifugal protocols—but she is not negligent.” The bench members exchanged glances. Kian scowled. “Scholar Jahandar, you are her appointed partner. Your defense is noted, but the physical proof—” “The evidence is incomplete.” Behrouz extended his palm, revealing a silver scar glowing with alchemical luminescence. “I invoke the Oath of Prismatic Veracity. I bind my blood to hers. If Roshanak is found guilty of intentionally withdrawing flawed stock, then I forfeit all my laboratories, my academic rank, and my very meridian flow. My life becomes forfeit.” A collective breath sucked into the chamber. The ancient rite, dating to the Citadel’s founding, bound two practitioners' vitals to an absolute truth. If Roshanak were proven guilty, Behrouz’s alchemical nodes would collapse, burning out his nerves until only a shell remained. Kian leaned forward, mouth parted. “Jahandar… are you certain? This cannot be severed.” “Entirely.” Behrouz met Roshanak’s stare without blinking. “Now, Rector, can we conduct an honest inquiry rather than an execution based on a questionable notation?” *** The Dar-al-Hikma’s lower repository stretched through vaults of copper pneumatic tubes and shelves stacked with decades of folio sheets, smelling of dry parchment and sulfur. Roshanak, holding a brass optical scanner, strode down the central aisle while Laleh hovered two paces behind. “Perhaps we should check the Department of Symbiotic Genomics first,” Laleh murmured. “They lost several cultures last week. It wouldn’t surprise me if someone there shifted blame to hide their own negligence.” Roshanak ignored her, focusing on the intricate indexing system. “The master filing originates here,” Roshanak replied. “If the digital entry was altered, the iron gall ink remains on parchment.” She ran her brass glass across an indexing plate. “Vault Level Delta-Seven, Tier B, Drawer 19. Containment Protocols, Cycle 47.” “The Genomics staff were always resentful of your pace,” Laleh pressed, clutching her skirt. “Remember when their condensers vanished last cycle? Scholar Farhad was furious.” “Farhad’s condensers have nothing to do with my name on a cracked vessel.” Roshanak hauled a calfskin volume from the shelf, its binding stiff with dust. Here the primary ink records rested before transcription into the brass engines. She turned the yellowed pages, running a fingernail down the ink columns. Her pulse thrummed in her fingertips. Framing her with such precision was a methodical, calculated strike against her standing. As she reached the appropriate folio, paper rustled behind them. A figure, cloaked in shadow, darted from behind a towering shelf of ancient astrological charts. Kavadh. He held a single, luminous blue rose, its petals shimmering with a faint, unnatural glow. He must have snuck in. “My love!” he whispered theatrically, stepping forward. “I knew you would be here, delving into the mysteries of your genius! I brought you a gift, a symbol of my unending devotion – a Kavir Blue, cultivated from the rarest aether-infused soil!” He extended the rose towards her, a blissful, lovesick smile on his face. Roshanak, eyes locked on the column, did not look up. “Kavadh, get out. You’ll be stripped of all permits.” “Never! Not when my darling requires my protection!” He took another step, his foot catching on a loose floor tile. He stumbled, the glowing Kavir Blue flying from his hand. It struck a gas lamp, which teetered precariously, then crashed to the floor, shattering its glass. With a whoosh, a plume of highly flammable archive dust ignited. Flames licked up the ancient scrolls, spreading with terrifying speed across the dry parchment and into the wooden shelves. Smoke billowed, choking the air. “Kavadh, you idiot!” Roshanak pulled Laleh behind her shoulder as orange flame leaped into the ceiling rafters. Kavadh backed away, his posturing gone, trembling as ash drifted onto his collar. Pressure sirens wailed. Ceiling nozzles hissed, spraying chalky white retardant over the burning mahogany, though a row of upper shelves crashed downward in a spray of embers. Roshanak spat out soot, her gaze locked on the burning pile. She needed that folio. Shielding her mouth, Roshanak thrust her sleeves into the smoldering pile, shoving aside blackened boards. Heat scorched through her wool cuffs. Her fingertips struck vellum treated with lead-wash, intact despite the charred borders. She shook the soot loose. It was the manifest leaf for Unit 734-B. Pressed into the bottom margin was a flawless copy of her papillary crests and arterial rhythm, traced down to the micron.

Blood Pacts and Blind Spots