The Departure Protocol

Chapter 8

The following morning, Wared woke up to the faint aroma of tea emanating from the kitchen. He sat up and rubbed his eyes and glanced in the direction of the kitchen. There was no-one there.

"Alice?"

"Good morning, sir."

"Are you making tea or is Tarun awake?"

"Tarun is still in his bedroom. I know you like your tea in the mornings, just like he does."

Wared sighed and sat up.

"What time is it?"

"Almost seven in the morning."

Good. He hadn't overslept.

He dressed and drank his tea in silence. If Tarun was still sleeping, he didn't want to wake him any earlier than he had to. As he returned to the kitchen to put the cup in the washer, he noted a piece of paper on the floor. He picked it up and was about to throw it in the trash when he noticed the printed writing on it.

"What's this?" he said to himself.

"That is the prescription for the medication Tarun was administered yesterday."

Wared furrowed his brow and checked the trash can. An empty medication container, the label partially ripped of, lay at the bottom of the trash can. He looked at the prescription label again. The name of the substance was unknown to him.

"Alice, do you know what this is?" he said and held the label up in the air. "What does it do?"

"It's a mild sedative that calms the nerves and blocks unpleasant memories."

Wared gasped. No wonder he had been so relaxed the prior evening. The doctor hadn't helped him recover. He had merely covered up the trauma, probably in an effort to get Tarun through to the ceremony.

"I've got to talk to him," Wared said and marched over to Tarun's door. He knocked and waited. A few moments later, he heard the sound of shuffling from inside the bedroom. The door opened first a crack, then enough that Wared could see Tarun's face.

Tarun looked up at Wared with blood-shot, large eyes. "Who's there," he demanded. "Who are you?"

"It's me, Wared. I'm here to take you to the ceremony."

Tarun blinked a couple of times and stared at him. "Ceremony?" He rubbed his eyes. "Wared, is that you?"

"It is, uncle, it is. Are you ready for your Departure?"

"My Departure?" Tarun's eyes grew larger. "Oh, I forgot. I've been watching—" His words trailed off.

"Watching what?"

"It doesn't matter. You're here now. We should get going. I don't want to be late.

"Hang on a minute. You can't go to your Departure ceremony dressed like that," Wared said and nodded towards Tarun's pajamas.

Tarun looked down at his clothes, then back at Wared. He ran a hand through his hair, nodded and disappeared into his bedroom without saying a word. Wared sighed and sat down on the couch as he waited for Tarun to return.

"Did you sleep well?" he shouted towards the bedroom, knowing full well from Tarun's appearance that it was likely the answer was no. He only heard a grunt and a door slamming shut.

"How are you feeling? All recovered from yesterday?"

Tarun popped his head out from the bedroom. "Why do you care?"

Wared opened his mouth to respond but found himself speechless. Tarun's question had caught him off guard. It was obvious to Wared that whatever medication Tarun had been given was wearing off.