Even in flux, the Society clung to some social norms. One such being breakfast served promptly, as regularly scheduled, despite the changes in accommodation. And status.
Regardless, he wasn't an unreasonable man, and so rather than interrupt Cledwyn's meal, he stood in the hallway, eyes closed to shield his mind from the comings and goings of those around him, mental lists being made and reviewed, made again. Samples lost, those saved, those yet to be taken. The status of every experiment gestating in his lab, and the possible permutations now at his fingertips as the source lay all but within his grasp.
That fact Chase would not be included in the next incarnation of The Three aside, he was soothed by the promise that the man who no longer held any title would be under his charge, and the smile that shaped his mouth at the thought chilled those traveling the hallway to the bone, and all stepped more quickly, hop skipping away with a shiver.
A rattle of cutlery and china heralded the end of the morning meal, and Chase's eyes opened. Holding the door open for the guard who removed the tray, he waited to enter the observation room until the squeak of the cart wheels faded away. In order to avoid a paper trail, the chart in his hands was paper, and the good doctor flipped idly through the pages, speaking aloud as if making idle chit chat.
"It is a popular misconception that the phrase 'First do no harm' is a part of the Hippocratic oath. Isn't it amazing that if someone hears something often enough, it gains the semblance of truth?"