The Balance of Silence

by S. Reesa Herberth

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  The Balance of Silence

  Riv grabbed her hands, unclenching one fist and then the other, and rubbing at the half-moon holes she’d left in her palms. “Shit, Del, I had no idea.” He swallowed hard. “A priest?”

  “You know how they feel on Camargue about people who are different.” Her voice gave the word a particularly ugly twist. “Who else would deal with something evil besides the church? Our aunt certainly didn’t want the taint on her family.”

  “Denny’s not evil,” he protested, sick at the thought of a couple of kids being tortured for something the rest of the empire accepted as merely unusual.

  “Yeah, well, he’s not normal either. Normal people don’t talk to the dead.”

  It wasn’t the time to rehash their old argument. Her prejudices were based on her upbringing, and there was no way around that, despite the fact that those same prejudices made her constantly fear for her twin as well as deny her own particular talents.

  She smiled fiercely, a savage baring of teeth. “And now you’re wondering what the fuck this has to do with anything. It’s just that it was obviously a catalyst in your life as much as it was in mine. Something you’ve suffered for.” He started to protest, but she kept on relentlessly. “You’re getting better, and obviously something’s been a catalyst for that. This Ducks person. Don’t waste that.”

  I thought it would come back in a crisis. I really hoped it would. That I’d just snap back to who I was.

  Riv let Ducks keep typing, resettling himself on his bed to ease the ache in his neck. It had been a long day in the pit, and he seemed to have spent most of it twisted at odd angles. He’d come back to his room after a quick shower and found the waiting vid request, and all his good intentions of an early sleep cycle had vanished. They’d been talking for hours, and he didn’t want to say good night until Pryce was ready to go.

  If I never find my voice again, I guess I could always become a really gifted mime.

  Riv snorted a laugh to match the humor he saw on the screen, but he couldn’t help feeling unreasonably morose over the idea of never hearing his name come from the mouth that still managed to convey so many emotions, even without a sound.

  You look like I kicked your puppy.

  That jerked him out of it, and he forced a smile. “Sorry. It was a long day. Don’t mean to be a downer.

  I just think you deserve so much better than that.” And as soon as he said it, as soon as he saw the confused and slightly worried look on Ducks’ face, he wished he’d gone to bed after all. “I’m sorry. I—”

  The thing is, Riv, even if my voice comes back, it doesn’t mean I’ll be normal again. I might never be all better. I still can’t stand people touching me, unless I know them, and I brace myself for it, or unless I’m so used to them that they don’t scare me anymore. And whatever you think I deserve…Riv…fuck. He got up suddenly, disappearing from the camera entirely, only to come back into view at the far side of the room,

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  pacing with his arms wrapped around his chest. Riv sat up, ignoring the painful cramp in his shoulder and leaning closer to his vid screen.

  “Pryce, I’m sorry. Damn, I should just shut up sometimes. I’m sorry. I have no fucking right to say anything like that to you, to push you into anything.”

  Ducks looked over at him, shaking his head, and his mouth moved for a second before his frustrated resignation drove him back to the keyboard.

  You didn’t do anything wrong. A beat, with Riv leaning on the edge of the table under his screen like it was holding him up entirely, and Pryce’s fingers brushing the keys but not exerting any pressure, leaving them as mute as he was. Riv, what do you want from me?

  He could deny it, or change the subject, but an honest question deserved better than that.

  “I want whatever you think you can give me. I care about you.”

  This time the silence dragged on for almost a minute, a long painful grind of time where Ducks refused to meet his eyes. And when he finally began typing, his gaze never left the keyboard. What if I don’t know what I can give you? I’m not who I was. But I don’t know if I’ve changed that much. The pause was interminable, his fingers immobile on the keyboard. I was never much for guys, I mean, beyond a passing interest. I don’t know if that’s different now, because of this, or because it’s YOU…

  Children’s rhymes be damned, words did hurt, hurt plenty. In the gut, in the heart, a great solid blow that felt amazingly physical. Riv gritted his teeth and forced something approaching a shrug.

  But Ducks was still typing. I said I don’t KNOW. He looked up, but it was Riv who had to look away this time, unable to meet the anguished expression. The doctors here have said I won’t ever be the same person, that trauma is like a head injury, it changes the actual shape of the brain. So I’ll never be who I was. But I don’t know who I AM.

  He wasn’t sure if the small distressed sound came from his throat or Ducks’. Riv swallowed hard. “So what do you want from me?”

  The weak smile was at least that, and Ducks shrugged helplessly. Come here and help me find out?

  “I’m not sure I should,” Riv said softly. “Because what I want, what I really want, it isn’t friendship.

  I’m not sure I can keep that out of how I act around you.” Kicking the chair next to him out from under the table, he sat down in a defeated sprawl, tipping his head over the back and rubbing the bridge of his nose while he listened to the clatter of fingers over the keyboard. When he looked up, the text splashed across his screen was enough to make him blink.

  I’m not asking you to. But what happens if it turns out that I’m not wired that way? I never really was before, but you… There’s something about you and I.

  “Then you’ll at least know that much about yourself.”

  What about you?

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  The Balance of Silence

  Riv grinned wryly. “I’ll be disappointed. Really disappointed. But I’ll survive. Besides, it won’t be the first time I’ve mistakenly hit on a straight guy.” Okay, so that part was a lie. He could in all honesty say that he’d never hit on anyone who didn’t return the interest, but if it made Ducks feel better…

  The hope in the blue eyes meeting his was painfully intense. So you’ll come here?

  “Of course.”

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  Chapter Five

  “Vid me if you need to talk, okay?” Del whispered in Riv’s ear as she gave him a hug goodbye. He had to practically bend in half to reach her, but he managed an extra squeeze of thanks.

  “Enjoy the beach, hot stuff. Try not to burn your nose again.” He hefted his duffel and sauntered away from the rest of the crew as they fell to arguing over whether to eat or hit the beach first. Del had trembled her lip at Bin when she’d heard that Riv was taking leave to see his mum on Karibee, and now they were all docking for the weekend. He was still smirking over Bin’s choice of an alarmingly loud floral shirt.

  The tram ride to the facility was quiet, a mercy from his rather loquacious countrymen, and when he got off at his stop he was pleased to find the streets cleaner than he remembered, and fewer bars on the windows.

  “Hello. Can I help ya?” the nurse asked.

  “Yes, I’m here to see Pryce Markham.”

  She glanced down at her notebook, frowning slightly. “Is he a doctor or a patient?”

  “Oh. Um, patient.” Riv winced. He’d never even thought about having to make the distinction. That, and it still didn’t seem right that Ducks was a patient at this facility, well-respected as it was. It implied that there was something wrong with him, that he needed to be somewhere.

  “Yes, here he is.” Briskly businesslike now, she tapped the screen, waiting for a sheet of paper to slide out of the pr
inter before pushing it across the counter to Riv. “He’s in the south wing, room 296.” She traced the path with a finger. “You need to go out the main doors at the end of the lobby and cross the courtyard. His room is towards the back of the building. It should take you about ten minutes.”

  Riv accepted the map with a smile. “Thank you for your help.”

  The walk was every bit of ten minutes, and seemed longer, a fact not helped by his feet slowing and almost stopping as he reached the far building. He was terrified, stupidly insanely terrified. Suddenly, seeing Ducks seemed like the hardest thing he’d ever tried to do.

  He took a moment, standing there in the brightly lit courtyard. In and out, deep breaths, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was pulled back, and he turned to find himself face to face with Ducks, smiling tentatively. He pulled a notebook from his pocket, scrawling a message on the screen quickly.

  I thought I was supposed to be the jumpy one.

  The Balance of Silence

  Riv laughed, and then it was easier, at least a little. He still didn’t know what to do next, but he held his hand out and was surprised when he was pulled into a hug instead. There was more of Pryce than there had been, a sturdiness that had been missing before, and the hand that rested on his back wasn’t shy about rubbing slow circles in the fabric of his shirt.

  “Hey there,” he said softly into the bend of Ducks’ neck.

  He really shouldn’t be able to feel the smile. A second or two more and Ducks pulled back, and sure enough, there it was. Thank you for coming.

  “Of course. But you might not be thanking me later.” Riv waited until Ducks lifted an eyebrow in query and grinned. “I had a promise bullied out of me that if I could break you out of here for a few hours, I have to take you to meet Del.”

  That earned a worried frown, and Riv silently groaned. His mouth constantly ran away with itself.

  “Only if you want to, that is. She’s persistent, but she’ll survive the disappointment if you don’t feel up to it.” Taking a chance that almost froze him with indecision, he reached out and dropped an arm around Ducks’ shoulders. When the gesture wasn’t shrugged away, he leaned in. “Besides, my mum’s having everyone to stay. She’ll keep Del busy enough that she wouldn’t be able to miss you.”

  Not only was his arm not shrugged away, but the other man carefully maneuvered his pad in order to write without dislodging Riv. Is that a bad thing?

  “A bad thing?” Riv laughed, shaking his head. “Depends on what you consider bad. Mum’s like me…only a hundred times more so. Still the only person in the ’verse who can outtalk me. Del will have her hands full.” He rolled his eyes. “And Bin won’t know what hit him.”

  At least nobody would notice that I wasn’t contributing much. Ducks cleared the screen, and not wanting to push, Riv moved a little out of his personal space, picking up his bag again and looking around them.

  “Is there someplace I can leave this?”

  We can go back to my room. Ducks was a quick hand with his pad and stylus, and his neat handwriting was as close to a voice as he could expect. The amused embarrassment involved in trying not to read anything into it, when really that was all he could do, didn’t make the situation that much easier.

  Riv whistled softly as Ducks ushered him in the door and then stood back. “Not bad accommodations.

  Sure beats my bunk on the Mel.” He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting…some dark, dank hole that more resembled a prison cell? But this room was spacious and bright, if austerely furnished. A single bed—noted with a wry pang of shamefully acknowledged disappointment—a dresser and a chair, over-stuffed and comfortable looking.

  Nothing fancy, but we’re supposed to be concentrating on other things while we’re here.

  It was amazing how quickly he was getting used to glancing at Ducks for his answers. He’d still rather hear a voice, but this would do for the time. “Attaining a higher level of consciousness and purity?”

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  The blond man grinned. Something like that. He dropped easily onto the bed and gestured towards the chair with his chin. So sit down and tell me about this entourage you brought with you.

  “Entourage?” Riv laughed. “Damn, I would never be able to spell that.”

  Lucky for me I have the spelling gene, huh?

  “Is that a gene? I thought it was just paying attention in Language Arts. Now I don’t have to feel like such a failure.” He dropped his bag at the foot of the bed and sat gingerly on the edge, looking around one more time. “They’re my crew. Bin’s crew, really. Del is his wife, and she works with orphanages. Then there’s Marc and Bird, who work in the mech pit with me. And me, destined to be sleeping in the same room I had when I was six, squashed up into a tiny little bed shaped like a boat.”

  Homey. The soft laugh sent a shiver down to the pit of Riv’s stomach, and he grinned back.

  “Yeah. Especially with my mum offering Del advice on how to get pregnant. That should go over well.”

  Is she trying to get pregnant? Ducks’ expression was slightly bemused.

  “Not a chance. And even if she was, Mum’s herbal concoctions, besides tasting like complete shit, would not be a welcome solution.”

  Pulling one knee up to his chin and wrapping an arm around the leg, Ducks rested the pad on the bed to write with the other hand. Funny. I thought it took something besides herbs to get pregnant. I guess I’ve been out of touch.

  Riv snickered. “Times change, my friend. We don’t need to rely on such base, crude things anymore.”

  You make base and crude sound like a bad thing. And I don’t remember it being BAD.

  It was amazing to see the same loopy smile on his face mirrored on Ducks’. Now if only he could count on it being for the same reason. “No, no, you misjudge me. Not bad at all. I’m a fan, a huge fan.”

  Ducks was the first to break the shared glance, face pinking up faintly as he stared down at the bed.

  He fiddled with the stylus for a moment, long fingers moving nervously. Riv bit viciously at his lip, the apology already welling up in his throat when Ducks started to write.

  I’m not running out of the room screaming.

  Riv jerked up, seeking out the other man’s face. The hesitant grin did a world of wonder in slowing down his racing heart, and he took a shaky breath. “That’s good, right?”

  It’s good. But I think I need a break. Are you hungry? I can show you the cafeteria. Buy you a Ping?

  “That sounds great.” He stood, hesitated for just a second, and offered Ducks his hand. When it was accepted, he grinned, pulling him to his feet. “Drank everything you sent me the very first day. Del says she’s holding you personally responsible if all my teeth rot out.”

  Ducks shrugged nonchalantly, making no attempt to hide his laugh. I hardly think you can blame your dental hygiene problems on me.

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  The Balance of Silence

  “Try telling Del that,” Riv said morosely. “Come up on her bad side and you’ll change your mind quick enough.”

  Maybe we could hold off a few days before I meet her. And it wasn’t really a joke, Riv knew when he looked over.

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He rested his hand on the slightly stooped shoulder next to him briefly as they crossed the landscaped courtyard. “Besides, who says I want to share?”

  I don’t want to disappoint you. Ducks led them into the cafeteria, effectively cutting short anything else Riv might have said. Del had a way with the injured that had nothing to do with bedside manner, and in the back of his mind, he was clinging to the long shot that she’d be able to do something for Pryce. Of course, to help him, she’d have to touch him, and he wasn’t sure that was going to happen.

  They garnered few looks from the other patrons in t
he cafeteria, and even less interest, something Riv found himself grateful for. But for all of that, the woman behind the counter recognized Ducks, giving him a friendly smile and a wave.

  “Hello, Mr. Markham. Here for a soda, I’m guessing. And just in case you’re interested, there’s fresh berry tart, still warm.”

  Ducks grinned and nodded, holding up two fingers.

  “Right you are then, step down to the end and I’ll have that in just a jiffy.”

  The tart was everything promised and then some, and Riv found himself scraping the plate and then glancing back over his shoulder rather longingly. The tap on his shoulder brought him back.

  See why I’ve gained so much weight since I got here? The food’s incredible.

  “No kidding. Think I could move in for awhile? It would make my mum happy, me being back home.

  And it would definitely make me happy, not having to eat her cooking.”

  Setting his fork on the table, Ducks laughed and shook his head. I don’t think your mother would be happy at you being in a rehab center, even if it was only for the food.

  Riv propped both elbows on the table, leaning forward with a sigh. “It would be worth it. Besides, I could come up with a reason for being here. Do they take you for addictions? I could develop one for gambling. Drugs? Alcohol? Sex? Personality disorder? What about all of the above?”

  If anything, Ducks laughed harder, hand shaking with the force of it, impeccable handwriting wavering across the pad. Maybe you should just stick with the food. The rest of it seems kind of scary. I might have to ask you to leave.

  “Ah, Pryce, is this your visitor?” The unexpected voice caused them both to spin around to see the elderly doctor, hands stuffed comfortably in the pockets of his white lab coat, smiling amiably at both of them.

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