by R S Penney
Anna shut her eyes tight, breathing deeply as she tried to dispel her irritation. “All right,” she began. “We're going to need a new approach. Would it be possible to have a police presence at each of these addresses?”
“Round the clock surveillance?” Bevi Tremana asked.
“Think of it more as guard duty.”
One of the other officers, a lean man who sat in an office chair with his legs apart, shrugged in response to that. “It's possible,” he said. “But since there's no way to detect a telepath, an attack could happen right in front of us, and we'd never know.”
“I can't monitor all sixteen victims simultaneously,” Keli chimed in. The woman stood by the wall with a bored expression, looking very much like a child who had been forced to pose for a picture and who hated every second of it. “Unless you want to gather them all in one place, that is.”
Wincing in frustration, Anna shook her head. “No,” she replied, turning to face the screen with her hands clasped behind herself. “That will just tip off the telepath, and he'll be extra careful.”
In her mind's eye, Detective Tremana sat on the edge of one officer's desk, staring solemnly into the distance. “Besides,” she added, “there's no way to guarantee that he won't just pick a new victim for his next attack.”
“I have a suggestion,” Keli said.
Every eye in the room turned toward her, and she wilted under the weight of all that attention. “There are certain techniques that normals can use to guard themselves against telepathic influence,” Keli went on. “I'd like to begin teaching our victims how to maintain emotional control. If I can get them to a point where they have enough presence of mind to call us the instant they experience anything out of the ordinary, we might be able to arrive quickly enough to catch this telepath in the act.”
“That,” Anna said, “is a good idea.”
Some of the officers murmured their approval.
A frown put creases in Bevi Tremana's forehead, and then she turned her gaze upon Anna. “We'll have to come up with a way to protect my officers,” she said. “Ms. Armana will be able to fend off a telepathic attack, and I'm given to understand that your Nassai offers you some protection, but the rest of us will be vulnerable.”
Anna stood before the woman with her arms crossed, bending forward as she let out a breath. “I don't intend for any of you to get involved,” she said. “If somebody calls in an incident that sounds like a telepathic attack, you pull your people back and send for us. I'll have several Keepers on standby.”
Thankfully, she received no argument from any of the officers. All those months on Earth had trained her to expect resistance from local law enforcement. It was hard to stop mentally preparing herself for the endless stream of objections to anything she said, no matter how reasonable. “All right,” she went on. “Keli, you'll begin training our victims in mental self-defense, and when you're done, I want you to do the same for each of these officers. I'll set up their multi-tools with a direct link to the station. Let's go to it.”
The elevator ride left Anna with the mild sensation of being compressed, but it was only a vague feeling in the back of her mind. She let her thoughts drift, let herself enter a relaxed state until time itself seemed to slow.
The world drifted away, and she found herself standing on a wooden platform with trees as thick as houses sprouting up all around her, their leafy branches forming a roof of green. Bluebirds chirped as they flitted about through the air, one landing on a thick rope right in front of her and then flying off.
Anna stumbled forward, grabbing that rope.
Catching herself before she tumbled over the edge, she had a brief glimpse of the massive tree-trunk that this platform encircled. It was a two-hundred-foot drop to the lumpy brown earth below.
She stepped back from the ledge.
Shivering at the thought of that long fall, Anna gave her head a shake. “Seth,” she muttered. “Maybe next time, you could avoid bringing me into the simulated world in a spot where one misstep might kill me.”
“The fall would not have harmed you.”
Turning around, she found her symbiont standing on the platform in black pants and a loose green tunic. Seth wore the guise of a tall and slender young man with olive skin and neatly-trimmed dark hair. His namesake from the Moons of Myria series. Seth the Scout. “You look troubled, my host.”
Anna smiled, then bowed her head to him, brushing a lock of hair off of her cheek. “You know me so well,” she said. “I feel like I'm being selfish, like it was wrong of me to come back here and focus on the art show.”
Seth folded his arms and leaned against the tree-trunk, his mouth a thin line as he gazed out on the forest. “You made a commitment to your teacher,” he reminded Anna. “It would be wrong to break it.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you feel selfish?”
She turned away from him and clasped her hands behind her back, standing on the edge of the platform and letting the cool breeze wash over her. “I guess I feel like I put that part of my life behind me when I accepted the Bond.”
Cautiously, Seth moved forward to stand beside her, shaking his head and making no attempt to hide his irritation. “That's foolishness,” he said. “Anna, a Nassai Bond and the duties that go with it were never meant to replace all other aspects of your existence. We Nassai benefit from Bonding hosts who explore the richness of human life.”
“I know that.”
“Then take this opportunity to explore a passion that you have neglected for far too long,” Seth insisted. “There are other Justice Keepers. You need not be on duty each and every waking second.”
It was good advice; she knew that, but there was something holding her back, and she was having a hard time admitting it to herself, much less to Seth. Then again, Seth already knew every thought in her head…
Sitting down on the edge of the platform, Anna gripped the rope with both hands to steady herself. “It might be a little more complicated than that,” she whispered. “I might be looking for an excuse to blow off the show.”
“And why would you do that?”
“You already know.”
“I do,” Seth agreed. “But humans find talking cathartic.”
“Because I was sixteen the last time I submitted a painting for professional review, and now I'm worried that my skills have atrophied. My mom used to tell me that I had a future as an artist, and she must have scolded me a billion times for giving up that future when I Bonded you…Sorry.”
Seth dropped to one knee beside her, chuckling as he shook his head once again. “You needn't apologize, Anna,” he said. “I am well aware of your mother's opinions on your decision, and I'm also aware that you don't regret it.”
Pressing her lips together, Anna blinked as she thought that over. “Well, at least we have that much,” she mumbled. “I'm glad that you know how much I value our Bond, but I'm worried that Mom might be right.”
“She isn't.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because your art teacher would not have asked you to be in the show if your skills had atrophied that much.”
“I guess you're right!”
Ignoring the momentary burst of trepidation, Anna dropped off the edge. For no particular reason other than her desire to see what would happen. The wind whipped her as she plummeted.
Trees rose up all around her with branches sticking out in every direction, although, miraculously, not one hit her as she passed. The ground rushed up toward her, and Anna braced herself for the impact.
She landed on both feet and immediately dropped to a crouch, surprised by the total lack of pain she felt on contact. It wasn't that she felt nothing at all. There was a slight jolt when her shoes hit the springy earth, but that was it.
Slowly, she rose.
Sucking on her bottom lip, Anna turned her head to examine her surroundings. “So, that was fun,” she whispered. “It's always preferable to explore my death w
ish in a safe environment.”
Seth was there in an instant, appearing from out of nowhere, leaning his shoulder against the tree and laughing at her. “This place is a construct of the mind, my host,” he said. “You can't be hurt here.”
“So you've said.”
“Your elevator ride is almost over. Perhaps you should return to the waking world? We can talk later, if you wish.”
She took his advice, allowing the forest to drift away to nothing until she saw only the insides of her eyelids. When she opened them, the silver door of the elevator was still closed, but the car was coming to a stop.
The speaker let out a ding when she reached the tenth floor, and the door slid open to reveal a long hallway with white walls and green carpets. The scent of lemon cleanser was fresh, so the bots had come through this part of the building recently.
Jack's apartment was just a few doors down; she pressed her palm to the biometric scanner, waited a few seconds for the damn machine to do its job, and then sighed when she heard the click of the door unlocking.
Once inside, she found herself in a spacious living room where a gray couch faced the wall on her left. The screen of SmartGlass that Jack used as a television had been set to display images of a tropical rainforest.
At the back of the room, steps led up to a raised floor where windows looked out on the city skyline. A round, glass table was set with two lit candles and a bottle of sparkling water. Well, this is a pleasant surprise.
Jack emerged from the kitchen in gray pants and a blue t-shirt, carrying a plate in each hand as he paced across the raised floor. He set them both down on the table, then turned to her.
Placing a hand over his heart, Jack bowed low, then rose to smile at her. “Dinner is served, madam,” he said in the cheesiest French accent she'd ever heard. Mind you, she hadn't heard that many examples of a French accent, but still.
Covering her mouth with one hand, Anna shut her eyes as her body shook with soft laughter. “You're nuts,” she said, striding across the room. “And I do believe we agreed it was my turn to do something nice for you.”
“Oh, we're keeping score now?”
“Shut up!”
Each plate contained a generous helping of noodles mixed with carrots, broccoli and corn. It looked delicious. She was overwhelmed by a surge of the warm fuzzies just thinking about the effort Jack had put in. “You made a vegetarian meal.”
He stood before her with his eyes downcast, offering only a shrug of his shoulders in response. “I figure Summer would appreciate it if I ate a little healthier,” he said. “And you stopped eating meat when we were living on Earth.”
“That's because I saw how you guys treat your animals.”
“Yeah…Grossness all around.”
“Shall we eat?”
It was a delicious meal, of course, and she was impressed that Jack had gone to the trouble of learning the recipe and cooking it himself. Most people who lacked a culinary flair ordered their serving bots to do such things, but Tim – the robot who came with this apartment; Jack had named him – remained in his alcove the whole time.
They talked for an hour, a wonderful hour in which she filled Jack in on everything that had happened: her investigation, her worries about the art show, her attempts to use work as an excuse not to go. Telling him everything seemed to ease her stress away. She could feel the tension leave her body, and she was completely relaxed by the time they made their way into the kitchen to clean up.
“You have to do the art show,” Jack said.
Anna was sitting on the counter with her hands on her thighs, smiling into her own lap. “Oh, I have to, do I?” she teased. “Less than one month together, and you're already telling me what to do! Men!”
On her left, Jack was down on one knee as he loaded their plates into the bottom rack of the dishwasher. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. “Fall back on that trope all you like, but you're not gonna jokey feminist your way out of this one.”
“I have every intention of doing the show.”
“Good.”
Squinting as she mulled it over, Anna shook her head. “Of course, with my luck,” she began, “the telepath will strike again, and I'll get called away just before the judges visit my table.”
Jack turned his head and blinked at her like a cat who was wondering what his silly human would do next. “And people call me pessimistic.” He shut the dishwasher. “I want you to do the show so I can see what my brilliant partner created.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I like your work.”
Hearing that shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. When she was living on Alios, she used to send Jack snapshots of her paintings – and he was always very supportive – but she figured he was just being a good friend. How much enjoyment could he get from looking at pictures of flowers and forests?
But of course, Jack was sincere; he was always sincere. Well…except when he was making one of his smart-ass quips. That was one of the many things she loved about him; when he paid you a compliment, you knew he meant it.
“So,” Jack said, getting to his feet. “I noticed a second toothbrush in the holder this morning…and some of your clothes in the closet.”
Closing her eyes, Anna thumped her head against the wall behind her. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “It's just I stay over here so often. It makes sense for me to have my own stuff. I hope you're not freaked out.”
Jack studied her with his head cocked. The look of confusion on his face made her wonder if maybe she had started speaking gibberish. “Freaked out?” he said, raising one eyebrow. “Are you kidding? I'm thrilled!”
“Really?”
He stepped in front of her, slipping his arms around Anna's waist, and kissed her on the forehead. “Yes,” he whispered. “I'm running out of ways to say this, but I like having you here.”
Anna blushed, then planted her nose in his chest. “It's not supposed to be so easy!” she whimpered. “We've been together for less than a month, and I'm practically moving in. I feel like I'm rushing, but I can't seem to make myself slow down.”
“Why shouldn't it be easy?”
“Because it's never easy.”
Gently, he held her face in both hands and then touched his nose to hers. “Just take a second and think this one through,” he said. “You've been in love with your best friend for five years, and the two of you are finally together. Things aren't exactly gonna follow the standard relationship formula. We're comfortable with each other. It makes sense that we would move a little faster.”
That made her feel a little better, but only a little. She had been through this before; she wasn't quite ready to trust that things would just work out simply because she was with Jack this time. In her experience, things tended to go wrong right when you let your guard down.
Of course, Seth was annoyed by her hesitation; she could almost feel him rolling his eyes at her. Well, Nassai were always eager to Bond with one another. Reluctance to rush into a relationship wasn't something Seth would understand.
“And it won't always be easy,” Jack went on. “We're gonna fight; we're gonna have differences in our routines, differences in the ways that we like to do things. But we'll get through it.”
That was what she needed to here.
“Okay,” Anna said. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Adren was angry.
As he looked around the food court in this fabrication terminal, he saw six people sitting at plastic tables spaced out on a tiled floor. Insects, the lot of them. He could reduce any one of them to a blubbering wretch with nothing but a thought, and yet he sat quietly among them. It was so very…plebeian.
The food court was a large, open area where twin columns of white pillars rose to support a ceiling dotted with skylights. Automated restaurants along two of the four walls offered delicacies from every corner of this benighted little world, each one displaying a glowing sign and pictures of the meals it had to offer.
<
br /> People came here to wait while machines elsewhere in the building assembled the clothing, furniture or electronics they had ordered. With no holidays on the horizon, it was slow in here today. Adren wasn't sure why he had come.
A man of average height – and skinny, despite his best efforts – he slouched in one chair with his arms folded, dressed in black pants and a burgundy silk shirt. His face was handsome enough with a dimpled chin, thin eyebrows and black hair that he wore parted in the middle. “Why do I even come here?” he murmured.
To watch the people, of course.
There was the old man, three tables away: a sad fellow with a ring of gray hair and eyebrows that seemed permanently drawn together. He scanned through the contents of a thin, SmartGlass tablet, perhaps reading the news.
The air around him seemed to buzz, ripples expanding from his body like heat over black pavement as his thoughts drifted into the ether. Adren could focus on any of those thoughts and see them clearly, but doing so would alert the old coot to his presence.
There was the teenage boy with a mop of blonde hair who sat on top of one table with his hands gripping its edge. His ripples were more frantic, as was usually the case with young people.
At one restaurant that offered spicy food from Khendraza Province, a tall woman in beige shorts and a light fall jacket fidgeted impatiently as she waited for her meal. You didn't have to be a telepath to know that she was anxious. Even still, he noted the ripples expanding from her body like the choppy waters of a rushing river.
Why had he come?
Because he was bored.
Tormenting the scum of this neighbourhood with visions of their worst nightmares no longer provided him with the thrill it once had. He needed a bigger challenge. He was a god among mortals – no one could touch him – and yet, he sat here among them like a rube. He needed more cunning prey.
It was time he made himself known.
Adren tilted his head back and breathed in slowly. “Why, hello, my friends,” he whispered. “So good to make your acquaintance.”
