Hidden Gem

by Lissa Kasey

  Bart shrugged and left Aki to return to his table to entertain. At group parties the companions made 10 percent of all alcohol and food sales, plus tips. Candy and Aki would split it, but they’d still be a couple thousand dollars richer by the morning.

  The party ended sometime after three, leaving Candy and Aki to drag themselves to bed around six after cleanup. Aki didn’t try going to his own bed, just crawled in Candy’s and fell asleep before the younger man settled in beside him. His phone buzzing a little while later interrupted his dreams. It bounced around the table until Candy slapped at it so he could grab it and glare at the screen.

  “It’s almost one, and you have an appointment at two,” Candy grumbled, turned off the phone, and rolled over to face the wall.

  Aki sighed and dragged himself out of the warm cocoon he’d made in Candy’s bed. He felt more like a zombie than a person. The warmth of the shower gave him a little jolt, but he dressed in a fog, going for conservative: jeans with flowers embroidered down the sides, a fitted pale pink button-up, hair braided, and only eyeliner. It was as ordinary as he could be and still feel like he wasn’t putting on a costume.

  Manny knocked softly on the door just before two to let Aki know the detective had arrived. Aki pulled on a pair of leather flats, very plain, but masculine. They were actually Candy’s shoes. Aki didn’t own anything that boring. What did the detective expect from him? The truth was that Aki hated not being able to read someone, and Detective Jackson Taylor made no sense.

  The man stood in the foyer dressed nicely in pressed khaki slacks, a bright green polo, clean-shaven, hair combed and styled, and black shoes that almost shone like a mirror. So very un-cop-like, more date-like. Aki frowned. The detective did a double take as Aki stepped into the entry and headed straight for him.

  Aki paused, did a little turn, and bowed. “If this does not meet your approval, Detective Taylor, let me know and I will go change.”

  “Jack,” he corrected. “It’s fine. I didn’t know you could look so normal.”

  Aki sighed to himself. Dressing this way wasn’t normal. At least not for him. Unsure of how to respond, he just smiled and nodded like he agreed. The man was paying for his time, after all.

  Taylor motioned him to the door and a car that was parked at the bottom of the stairs. “Can I feed you, or is that not done?”

  “Coffee would be welcomed.”

  “Great.” He jumped suddenly, maybe realizing he was moving so slowly Aki could have run circles around him, but he raced to the car and opened the passenger-side door. Aki got in, worried at Jack’s behavior. He was treating this like a date. Did the man normally pay for company on dates where he came from? Aki couldn’t imagine an attractive guy like Jackson Taylor not having a line of people fawning over him. But he took his place behind the wheel and off they went. Thankfully he took them to a diner only a few blocks from the Gem.

  Artie’s saw enough companions and clientele from the brothels that nothing made him or his staff bat an eye, not even a psi sitting down with a police detective. Aki had been there many times with McNaughton before. LuAnn patted Aki on the back as she passed, promising to be back in a heartbeat with coffee and rolls. She knew his order by heart, didn’t matter the time of day. He could always get coffee, a basket of Artie’s heavenly rolled sugar buns, and a sunny-side up egg, yoke super runny.

  Jack rummaged through the thick menu as LuAnn returned with the coffee. She’d probably been a beauty in her youth, blonde curls piled up on top of her head, more golden than the pale platinum of Aki’s, and artfully applied makeup said she cared about her appearance. She was in her sixties, someone’s grandma. Called Aki “honey” all the time, and he didn’t mind how she mothered on him or Candy. It was kind of nice to feel like someone saw them as humans for a change.

  She set a basket of sugar buns down and poured coffee for Aki, fresh pot steaming the light-roasted goodness that no one else seemed to be able to mimic. The smell alone snapped Aki out of his sleepy stupor.

  “Same as usual, honey?” she asked.

  Aki nodded and grabbed a bun to slather with fresh marmalade. “Some fruit on the side would be great. Maybe strawberries if you have some.”

  “Of course. Anything for you, honey. Artie will be stopping over to the Gem tonight to drop off more beans. Bart called yesterday to say he was running low. Don’t know how you stay up all night without the Goddess’s brew in you. Her Greatness knows you’ll need it tonight for the bonfire.”

  Aki took another sip. “Yeah, it’s pure heaven. Is Artie serving this year? I know he’s been trying to get into the bonfire for a while.” Artie actually owned a farm full of greenhouses that produced his beans. He roasted it himself, creating only a handful of flavors. Nothing fancy, just basic: light, medium, dark, espresso, etc. But the companions drank the stuff like water while the guests insisted on their fancy blends that tasted like muddy-flavored sugar.

  “Yep. We are dead for business anyway when you run those things. Bart is letting us park a food truck and a coffee bar. I know pretty much everyone will be on duty tonight. You stop by if you get hungry. We’ll have tons of sugar buns, and old Henry can whip up your egg in two seconds.” LuAnn flipped her gaze back to Jack. “How about you? First time at Artie’s, as I’ve never seen you before. Coffee?” She flipped over the cup and held the container ready to pour. Jack nodded, taking everything in with wide eyes. The diner was full. Usually was, no matter the time of the day. Companions, cops, men and women in suits, even a few goth boys sat over in the corner. LuAnn filled his mug, set the decanter down, and pointed to the sugar cubes and small creamer packets. “You hungry for breakfast, lunch, or dinner, son?”

  “Um, meat, ma’am?” Jack mumbled, making Aki smile. LuAnn could make even McNaughton bite his tongue and spit out manners.

  She took his menu, flipped it forward three pages, and motioned to the steaks. Prime grade, every one of them. Candy and Aki usually shared because even one twelve ounce was too much for them individually, but they had all the way up to forty-ounce cuts of meat. Jack nodded at the selection.

  LuAnn patted the back of his hand. “Look it over, I’ll be back in five.”

  “They have real steak and like twenty rubs to choose from,” Jack marveled. “I would never have expected a selection so good from a tiny place like this.”

  “More than eighty rubs if you mix them, which most do. If you’re really hungry, they have a deal that gives you a twelve ounce sirloin, any rub you want, though I recommend the cumin and honey mix for a bit of sweet fire, with three eggs any way you want, half a chicken, fried or grilled, and your choice of potatoes mashed, fried, or hashed.” Aki pointed to the favorite on the menu.

  Jack’s eyes nearly bugged out at the list. “That sounds amazing.”

  Aki waved LuAnn back, and Jack ordered. When she walked away, Aki shoved the sugar buns his way. “Try one. They melt in your mouth.” He slathered his second one up in the sweet orange spread and shoved half in his mouth. Jack took one and tore off a piece, tasting before going on to add the marmalade. “So tell me what I can do for you, Jack. This is feeling a bit like a date, and I’m not the dating type, as people pay for my time.”

  “Maybe I’d like to woo you.”

  “No wooing needed. I’m a sure thing.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem. You don’t see your value because you work so hard to sell yourself to people who don’t matter.” He stuffed another bun in his mouth. LuAnn was back to fill the bowl before they could ask. Jack held his hand up as Aki tried to protest his comment. “Yes, I know by profession you’re a whore. You get paid to give people pleasure. Fine. That’s a legitimate way to earn an income. I just think you’re selling yourself short.”

  “You think I should charge more? Did you forget the part where no one gets to fuck me?”

  Jack smiled, but it wasn’t a happy smile. “You’re very pretty, Aki. The shining star of the Hidden Gem. People discuss your beauty in passing as if you wer
e Helen of Troy.”

  “Causing wars, am I now? I don’t think you’ll find me to be anyone’s blushing bride.” Two years and countless men ensured he was more than skilled. But it was a job. Didn’t everyone get bored with what they did every day all day long?

  “All they see is your outside. The pretty package you dress up for them every night to give them a show. Yet here you sit.” He waved his hands at Aki like he was somehow different. “Pretty, yes, but more than just a companion. You have talent that is unmatched.”

  “You mean my psi ability? That’s not really a gift. And my skills with sex were trained by a former companion who is now a senator.”

  “But it is a gift. Less than five percent of the population has a psi ability. Of those who do, less than three percent are clairvoyant, and your strength of ability doesn’t even have a statistic because it’s so rare.”

  “So all I am to you is my ability?” That made sense at least. To Jack Aki was a tool, not for pleasure like most, but still something to be used.

  “No. But you could be a lot more than a companion if you actually used your ability.”

  LuAnn appeared a moment later with their food. Jack’s took up a sprawling three plates. Aki smiled at his egg and the big bowl of fresh strawberries. “Thanks, Lu.”

  “Any time, honey. Just call if you need anything else.” She left to attend other tables while they dug into their food.

  “What if I don’t want to be anything more than a companion?” Aki asked after finishing his egg and starting on the berries. First of the season, they were small, but sweet.

  “Why would you want people to use you like that for the rest of your life?”

  “Everyone is used all their life. It’s how you let people use you that’s the choice. If it weren’t as a whore, it’d be for the ISS or the cops swimming in memories of blood and killers. Not my idea of a good time. Candy and I made almost five grand last night just playing host. No sex, just flirting, serving drinks and food, just giving people the illusion they could have us. Tell me how many people you know make that much in a single night? Not even the straight-up whores on the I-35 strip make that much flat on their back for eight hours servicing one man after another. I bet if you ask LuAnn if she ever makes that much just serving she’d think you were nuts.”

  “So it’s really about the money for you?”

  “No. Like I said, I have food, clothing, a home, and my coworkers are my family. The money is just a bonus.” A way to secure a future away from conservatives who thought he should be contained, or worse, killed, for simply being born different. Someday he’d retire. Maybe like Paris, he’d become one of those senators, casting votes for things, gaining better rights and equality for psis and the like. Aki had a pretty good nest egg stored away, investments Bart helped put together for any companion who wanted to do so. If he saved well enough, he could retire at thirty, live off the money if he was careful.

  “You’re pretty young. What about school? A professional career maybe? Marriage? Kids?”

  “I’m pretty young,” Aki threw back at him with a smile. “Why worry about those things now?” In truth he felt much older than his twenty years. A year on the street, nearly two years in a concentration camp, and then more time on the streets had aged him. Maybe not his body, but surely his soul. Since he was a psi, he never planned to have children, as the mutated gene was almost always handed down. Marriage? Could he ever find someone to look beyond his years as a companion to want to make that commitment to him? Maybe. Not now. Not soon.

  “Can I ask where you came from? It’s unusual to see anyone with a slant to their eyes up in the North.”

  “The South, just like you. Thought that was obvious. Most northern-born psis work for the government. They’ve never seen how bad it can truly get, so they aspire to the position. I’ve enough awful memories for ten lifetimes.” Aki finished off his berries and pushed the plate aside.

  “I just wondered why your parents didn’t insist you have the surgery to fix your eyes, since that seems to be such a big issue in the South. Obviously they would have known at birth you were a psi. But they could have hidden it, tried to give you a chance at an unbiased future.”

  He meant a pupil-dyeing surgery. Not always successful, but often performed on kids who came from influential families to try to fake that they didn’t have a psi born among them tainting their rich blood. If done at too early an age, it resulted in permanent blindness. Knowing that many families would prefer their children blinded for life than be marked as a psi should have meant something to a man like Jackson Taylor. He was all about trying to show how good he was, after all. But he’d probably never met a real psi before Aki. Maybe he didn’t know how awful the surgery was or how expensive.

  “I didn’t come from a rich family. But I’d rather be obviously psi than blind pretending not to be psi. That surgery is dangerous. I recommend you read up on it before suggesting it to anyone.” In truth Aki knew nothing about his family. Maybe they’d been rich. Maybe he had never really had one. Obviously those memories were too painful for his brain to remember, since it was all a blank. He was okay with it. Life handed out enough pain day to day without dwelling on the crap he couldn’t remember.

  Jack sighed. “I wasn’t trying to insult you, just trying to get a feel for your past.”

  Psychoanalyze him. He’d lived long enough to know how to keep people’s noses out of his business. “Ask McNaughton.”

  “I did. He won’t share. Maybe he just doesn’t know much. Like I said before, he doesn’t see you. You’re just a whore to him. In fact, he called you a useful whore.” Jack pushed his plates away and pulled a large bill out of his wallet to pay for the meals. “You finished? I have someplace to show you.”

  “By all means. The day is yours, after all.” Aki took a final swallow of the coffee and followed him back to the car. Why couldn’t the man be like anyone else and just want Aki to blow him? Why was Jack insisting he needed to be saved? Aki liked his life. Why was that wrong? The day would have gone so much smoother if they could just connect on some level, even if it was something as simple as sex.

  Jack drove them into the city and to a high-rise that had no name but a lot of security. Most of the bigger buildings were like that now—privately owned and hidden from the rest of the world. Aki often wondered if it was really for security or just to hide some secrets they didn’t want getting out.

  He tensed as Jack parked near the door. The detective got out and handed his keys to the valet. Apparently they were going to be there a while. Was this Taylor’s home? It didn’t look like any sort of apartment building Aki had ever seen.

  “I promise to return you back to the Hidden Gem at your request. There is just someone I’d like you to meet.” Jack motioned toward the stairs and the door beyond.

  Aki sighed but followed him inside and to an elevator. Small enclosed places made him dizzy. Sometimes he got flashes of being shoved in a big metal machine with lights that would flash around him while he was unable to move. He closed his eyes and counted backward from one hundred until the elevator stopped. Jack’s hand on his arm told him it was their floor.

  What they stepped out into was something Aki could only remember from his nightmares: a lab. It was cavernous, white and gray with glass walls etching out rooms for observation. People in lab coats moved like mice in a maze around tables and equipment. Aki couldn’t breathe. He trembled, pulling back and trying to get back in the elevator, but the door had already closed. Sweet Goddess, help him, he couldn’t do this again. He’d break for sure.

  He was back in the concentration camp again—strapped to a table, needles in him everywhere, the feel of drugs pulling him down into uncontrollable darkness, beeping, screams, and the copper stink of blood. He gagged, fighting to keep from losing his breakfast. He gripped his arms, covered his head, and prayed. The lights were too much. Please, someone help him. The memories were horrible, and worse, the holes, blocks of time missing like th
ey’d stolen puzzle pieces out of his brain.

  Someone grabbed his arm. Aki jerked away, fearing the memories. Soon they’d touch him in a way that would flood him with the horrors of someone else’s life. Always pain and sorrow, why didn’t anyone linger on the good?

  He felt himself yanked to the side. A door closed and suddenly a deep sense of calm filled him. Soft words reminded him how to breathe as he must have forgotten, but a voice helped him focus. He should have been panicked by the voice, knowing it wasn’t audible to anyone but him. He’d felt a touch like it before. There was a telepath in the room with him.

  “If you’re calm enough, perhaps you can open your eyes for me, Misaki Itou. I’ve waited a long time to meet you,” a female said.

  Aki opened his eyes, fearing the lab and bright lights, only he was now in a small room where warm colors splashed the walls in soothing tones of brown, purple, and green. He sat on a couch, plush with cushions, beside a woman who probably had a decade or so more on him. Her face was kind, eyes green, pupil nearly white. She held his hand, skin to skin, and he got nothing from her, just the warmth of her touch.

  “How?” he wondered out loud. “Who are you? What is this place?” And where is Jack? Aki was going to rip into the man the second he saw him. What was he thinking, bringing Aki to a lab? Aki just wanted to go home to the comfort of his tiny room and his closet of sparkly shoes. He’d pretend he was a lost prince or maybe a sultan’s concubine and that the past had never really happened.

  “I’m Dr. Quinn Vitoric. You are at the Institute of Scientific Study, Psi Division. Detective Taylor is one of ours. He is a little worried that you are unaware of what the ISS does. And wanted me to assure you that we don’t treat psis the way they are treated in the South. Perhaps you’ll let me give you a tour of the building?”

  Did he have a choice? Taylor worked for the ISS? What the hell? “No labs. I don’t want to go near any labs.” Just thinking of them brought nightmares. The ISS had been created in response to the growing threat of psi attacks before the Third World War. Too little too late of course, but they’d had a half century to correct that. Now they were one of the most powerful offices of the Northern government. “I know about psis in the North. I know some work for the government.” Aki wanted nothing to do with any of them. Rules, containment camps, experiments, they all came from the ideas of frightened rich men who needed to be in control of everyone else.