Dictated

[modernholmes]

 [If anyone has happened to run into Conan over the last few days they might have noticed that he's been a little sluggish in his responses.    That his voice has been hoarse and that he seems to be sneezing a lot.  Not that anyone has had much chance to talk to him with all the running around he's been doing this week.

What is a cold compared to all the things there were to investigate here?  

Whatever this illness was, Conan had been determined to ignore it.  With the result that this wasn't just a cold anymore.  

It is the dizziness and coughing that at last force Conan to accept that he needs to rest.  He reaches out for the journal and dictates into it in a  hoarse and stuffed up voice.]

I think I'm a little sick.  If anyone needs me I'm going to be in my room.

Comments

[modernholmes]

I don't know what you mean. [His voice is perhaps a little too innocent right now.]

[atadiscoverer]

That's what I mean.

[modernholmes]

What?

[atadiscoverer]

Conan, where are you?

[modernholmes]

In my room.

[atadiscoverer]

I'll be right there.

[modernholmes]

[Conan sighs. This was another annoyance of being trapped in the body of a child. People insisted on taking care of you.]

First floor of Satis tower.

Action

[atadiscoverer]

[Learn to look after yourself, then.]

I'll be there in wee a bit.

[Ten minutes later, there's a knock on the door.]

Action

[modernholmes]

[Conan slowly gets out of bed and makes his way over to open the door.]

[atadiscoverer]

Thank you, now back to bed. I'm going to run a full scan.

[And you thought he was making the scanner up. He has the device in his hand]

[modernholmes]

Is that really necessary?

[He eyes the device skeptically, but heads back over to the bed.]

[atadiscoverer]

[Carson pulls out a notepad and moves over]

Judging from that cough, aye, I'd say it is.

[modernholmes]

[He awkwardly climbs up onto the bed and reaches for the tissues.]

[atadiscoverer]

[Carson starts to scan Conan's body, making notes in a language that looks like this, and a corresponding translation]

I'm getting a few odd readings...

[modernholmes]

[Conan stiffens at the comment and leans over to try to see the notes.]

Ah, really? That isn't a good thing, right?

[atadiscoverer]

[Unfortunately, that part of the notes is still untranslated.]

No. Not usually.

It's picking up...Something.

[modernholmes]

Something?

[It takes all of Conan's acting skills to keep any of his panic from showing in his voice or expression.]

[atadiscoverer]

This is very strange...

You're just feeling cold-like symptoms, aye?

[modernholmes]

Mmm, it just feels like a bad cold!

[atadiscoverer]

The scanner is picking up some trace signs of something... It's not recognising the substance, which is a wee bit odd.

[modernholmes]

[Okay, definitely panicking now. Haibara was going to kill him.]

Maybe it's an error?

[atadiscoverer]

No, there's nothing wrong.

[He taps a few commands on the device, more notes written down in that same language.]

[modernholmes]

Ne, how does that device work?

[atadiscoverer]

Internal power supply with a genetic security coding.

[That's said completelty natural]

[modernholmes]

...Genetic?

[This was not good.]