Mindline

by M. C. A. Hogarth

  "Yes," Vasiht'h said. He drew in a long breath and said. "Yes. Now if I can get him through the next month and a half or so, maybe we'll have the leisure to explore some of those new things."

  Paga straightened. /This is new to me? Why this time?/

  "Because he's promised me if he can't acclimate to Selnor by then, we're going."

  /Good./

  Vasiht'h looked up sharply.

  Paga wheezed—laugh? Snort? Amusement, Vasiht'h thought. The Naysha slapped the water. /You think I think this world is good for him? I do physical therapy. He should not be here./

  "The acclimatization regimen—"

  A head-shake. Paga signed, /I tell you something. You watch the story. Long ago—/ Another of those wheezes. /—when I was new. Schooling. Yes? Looking for new experiences. Like you, like him. And I think: I am a made creature. Long ago, in the long ago. Some scientist made my kind. So I should go and meet true-aliens. Water aliens, like me. I went to the world of the Platies./

  "Ah?" Vasiht'h leaned forward. "What was it like?"

  /Amazing./ The Naysha paused, petting the surface of the water with his palms. Then his fingers flew, flicking droplets in his ardor. /That world. So amazing. I cannot tell you. You are not a water-dweller. Maybe if you touch me, I could try. Give you the memories, but it would not be the same. Even for me, they fade. They were too different. The water was like.../ Another long pause. /Like I would think a womb. Warm and dense. Full of life and data. It was... it was alive, a living thing. I understood then. How aliens could come to be. In water. Rather than to have been made, like the Naysha. But I could not stay there./

  Vasiht'h had been so entranced by the description of the ocean that the final sentence jerked him upright. "Wait. What?"

  /I could not stay./ Paga's hands became more deliberate, forming the words in the air as if shaping his own feelings: ambivalence. Regret. But a peace, that too. /It was too hard for me there. To breathe: that water was too thick. To swim, too. A great effort. It was a living sea... for someone else./

  "Ah," Vasiht'h said, quieter. "Yes. I see."

  Paga nodded, a very humanoid motion on a face that looked very alien. /Yes. You do. Your friend, though. Does not yet. So I do not say anything./

  Vasiht'h grimaced. "It would be easier if we could take advice from people when we needed it, instead of having to wait for the wisdom to accept it... which usually doesn't come until after you've made the mistake."

  Paga grinned, gape-mouthed. /Yes./

  "Well," Vasiht'h said with a sigh. "All I can do is wait."

  /And be what you are to him./

  "That too." Vasiht'h wiggled his toes in the water, then unbuckled his saddlebags. "And I might as well enjoy myself while I do it."

  /Enjoy your—ah!/

  Naysha interjections looked like splashes, Vasiht'h saw. He grinned and shook himself a little, wiping the water from his eyes. "Thank Aksivaht'h your pool isn't too deep, since I don't float."

  /No! You very much do not! You stay. I find you an inflatable./

  Vasiht'h waited, swaying in the water. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Jahir that he liked swimming. And dipping his paws in the water had made him feel how grimy and tired he was. The temptation had been a little too much for him.

  Paga returned, towing the long, noodle-shaped float behind him. /Here. Better./

  "Much," Vasiht'h agreed, using it to get his shoulders comfortably above the water. He curled his forelegs a little and extended his wings, using them to help him stabilize. "Look at me! A regular fish, I am."

  /Strangest fish I ever see!/

  "Ha!" Vasiht'h said. "Maybe I am heavier and slower than you, but that just means I make a better splash." He shoved his wing toward the Naysha, who whooped and dove. A few seconds later, someone tweaked his tail. "Now you're asking for it," he said with a grin. "Watch yourself, merman. I might be as graceful as a rock, but once I get moving I'm hard to stop—"

  /Save me from the swimming rock!/

  "You have no idea how big a wave I can make..."

  Jahir rested his head in his arm on the side of the private pool and attempted to let his thoughts settle. He'd needed the solitude, wanted desperately to put a barrier between himself and the events of the past few hours, between himself and an awareness of a frailty he'd never accepted fully until he'd woken up under a halo-arch. It was one thing to faint and wake to the sight of fretful coworkers and a panicked friend who insisted that his psychic communion with someone in her dying moments had nearly killed him. It was another to have physical evidence of how close he'd come. That this physical evidence made it clear how near to his physiological limitations he was operating, just by being here, was equally unwelcome.

  There was too much noise in his head. So he went to the water, and beseeched it to take the noise away, and after a time—too long a time—it did.

  His thoughts eased, bled to silence, and left him floating there with a warm sense of presence: Vasiht'h's proximity, made manifest as if the Glaseah was close enough for Jahir to feel his body heat. That too, was a comfort. More of one than he'd anticipated. He hadn't expected regrets over his decision, but he had anticipated more discomfort, more anxiety.

  But he had none. Choosing the mindline was the one decision he'd made since leaving home that he accepted with all the ease of a child accepting the love of his parents, as if it was birthright. He could rest here, as vulnerable in spirit as his body was, naked in the pool, and be completely at peace: someone was guarding his back.

  The first effervescent bubble that bobbed up through the link tickled. He opened his eyes, brow furrowing a touch, and waited to see if the sensation would repeat: again. Another tickle. And then a flood of it, dancing, quick as laughter. Jahir lifted his head, evaluating the sensations, and when they did not ebb he rose, careful of his weakness, and dressed, and went out of the private room to see what was occasioning such a mysterious amusement.

  ...and found Vasiht'h in the pool, having a water fight with Paga. He wasn't sure what astonished him more, the unlikeliness of a Glaseah in water, or how mighty a splash Vasiht'h could scrape up with those wings he rarely unfolded. Paga had just vanished beneath one of them when he reached the edge of the pool; though his back was turned, Vasiht'h noticed him first through his incredulity. Within a few moments both of them were facing him with airs of contrition that the mindline informed him quite ably were less than genuine.

  "Playing like children," he said.

  "Maybe a little," Vasiht'h said, and amended, "Like Naysha children, anyway. Glaseahn children don't usually go swimming for fun."

  Paga signed, /Naysha children don't play like this either. You do not make waves. You make tsunami!/

  "It's a gift," Vasiht'h said with a grin and lifted his wings, waggling the thumb claws. Paga cowered in mock horror.

  "Oh, enough!" Jahir said, and they stopped instantly. He finished: "At least, not until I join you!"

  Paga paused. /You should not be pushing water. That is true exertion./

  "Excellent," Jahir replied. "I shall have diplomatic immunity from your warring. Consider me a neutral party. I will float at the edges and make wry commentary."

  /You ask for trouble!/

  "He's right. It's all the same water, you know. Neutrality's not going to keep you from catching our backsplash." Vasiht'h grinned.

  Jahir lifted his brows, just a touch. "I can take it."

  Paga drummed the water, laughing. /So proud!/ he signed to Vasiht'h. /We teach him the error of such pride./

  "I'm afraid we will," Vasiht'h replied. "Come on in, arii. But don't think we'll spare you just because you can't fight back."

  "It is the furthest thing from my mind."

  They were more careful of him than that, and he won himself a scolding once or twice for flicking water back at them. But he laughed, sometimes aloud and sometimes in the mindline, where he felt his amusement reciprocated.

  /Enough!/ Paga said. /I surrender. I have water up
my ears! I can't remember the last time that happened./ He grinned. /Stay as long as you like. But not.../ He pointed at Jahir, the webbing stretching fine between its tip and his folded thumb. /...for longer than another hour. You are more tired than you think. Sleep is what you need./

  "An hour or less," Jahir repeated.

  "I'll make sure he does it," Vasiht'h added.

  Paga grinned, more naturally this time. /A good pairing. I approve. You needed this Naysha's approval. Yes?/ He laughed and gently splashed them. /Good night, aletsen./

  Vasiht'h's smile washed through the mindline like a warm tisane. "I like him. You had good luck, getting him as part of your team."

  "This from the person who just spent an hour trouncing him in his own habitat?"

  The Glaseah laughed. "I take my victories where I can get them, right? Especially where no one else expects them." He waded over to where Jahir sat perched on the steps leading out of the pool. "Anyway, I see why this is refuge for you. You feel much calmer now."

  "I did not expect to find one here." Jahir looked out over the pool, quiet now; most of the physical therapy took place during the day, and only the occasional person came by to take advantage of the facilities at night. He'd come to expect a few, but not many. "But I was deeply grateful for it. Particularly before you arrived."

  "It still helps you," Vasiht'h said. He dragged himself up the steps and stood on the edge of the pool, water pouring off him in thick streams.

  "It does. And... that does not look at all comfortable."

  Vasiht'h chuckled. "It's fine. There'll be a Pad drier around here. I'll find it before we leave and be good as new." He settled his bulk carefully, stretching his paws in front of him. "Paga's right about you needing to get back soon."

  "Yes," Jahir said. He watched the reflection of the stars from the ceiling's skylights compete with the artificial lighting in the room. "Vasiht'h... I saved a life."

  A hesitation, beneath which he sensed a deep-rock faith, unshakable. "It was in the Goddess's mind to allow that life to be saved. But... yes. You were the instrument." Vasiht'h added, wry, "Don't let it go to your head."

  Jahir hid his smile, knew Vasiht'h felt it anyway. "I won't."

  "Mmm. Well, let's dry off and get home. We have a long day tomorrow."

  "I pray we don't," Jahir said. "But I'm afraid you're right."

  Chapter 17

  It was with trepidation that Jahir returned for his shift the following day, but the first news he received while standing beside Vasiht'h was welcome.

  "No one died."

  Radimir was nursing a cup of hot chocolate in the break room, his tail curled around the stool's leg. Jiron was supervising the shift change behind him, watching the outgoing debrief the incoming. Paige had brought another bottle from the cafe and was breaking the seal on the spigot. She'd poured him a cup and given it to him, handle-first, before he could speak at all. He felt Vasiht'h's amusement, warm and a little tired.

  "Did anyone new come in?" Jahir asked, though he didn't want to know the answer; that troubled him.

  "No," Radimir said. "So there's a small blessing. And they're going to try something new this time."

  "What's that?" Vasiht'h asked, sitting and tucking his tail over his paws.

  Radimir nodded toward Jahir. "They've been doing some analysis of the halo-arch data on the patients that died, and on the one that you brought back, and they think the key might be depressing the neural activity when it starts overreacting. They're going to have a healer-assist team floating around with a tranquilizer. See if they can reproduce your unexpected success."

  "It may do nothing more than put them back into their original state," Jahir said.

  "That's better than having them die." Radimir's tail flicked once. "The longer we can keep them alive, the longer we've got to figure out how to fix them." He looked up. "You're still wanted on the watch, though. Until all this is over..."

  Paige, glancing at him on her way out, said, "Never thought you'd miss triage, did you."

  His startled thought--/was it so obvious?/ bought him an equally surprising response, for he hadn't expected one.

  /You do a thing with your eyes. It's subtle, but if you're watching for it, it's there./

  Jahir glanced down at Vasiht'h. /What thing is this?/

  Amusement again, fleeting, like a glimpse of a deer in sun-dappled woods. /A little crinkle of the lower lid./

  /Does everyone stare at my face thus?/

  If the only way to figure out what you're feeling requires it, I think the people who like you do try./

  Jahir considered that, then offered, dry, /Professor Sheldan would be disappointed./

  /That his whole 'you put people off by not emoting enough' speech was wrong?/ Vasiht'h snorted aloud. /My heart bleeds for Sheldan./

  When Jahir returned his attention to Radimir, he found the Harat-Shar staring at them. "Alet?"

  "What... was that?" Radimir said, one ear sagging and his expression baffled.

  "What was what?" Jahir asked.

  "It was like watching an entire conversation. But I didn't hear anything." Radimir's eyes were round. "Did that really happen, or have I gone deaf?" He touched the sagging ear hesitantly.

  In the back of Jahir's mind, Vasiht'h said, /We're going to have to work on that./

  He laughed, and tried to muffle it. "Well. I am for the patient watch, then."

  "So you are. You might get descended upon by Levine or Septima. If they pressure you too much, find one of us, all right?"

  "I hope it won't be necessary. But thank you."

  "And drink that," Radimir added. "She's bringing it to fatten you up."

  Jahir looked into the cup, suppressed a sigh. Dutifully, he took a sip and said, "I will be making rounds."

  "We'll call you if we need you. You do the same."

  Out in the corridor, Vasiht'h said, "I didn't mean to surprise you."

  "If you did, it was only to delight me," Jahir replied. "Do not apologize for it." He checked his data tablet. "We begin the rounds. I confess it is not very exciting."

  "Sitting in a room with nothing to do until someone starts dying?" Vasiht'h grimaced. "I don't know. That sounds like more excitement than I can handle." A jingle of bells, more cheerful than the words. A joke, then.

  "This should be harder," Jahir murmured.

  "What, the mindline?" Vasiht'h blew his forelock off his brow with the force of his sigh. "Yes. I know what you mean."

  The first patient was male and human, like the initial victim. Sitting on the stool in the room, Jahir wondered how the Hinichi investigator was faring, and if they would resolve the case soon enough to prevent any more fatalities.

  "So," Vasiht'h said. "When you feel my feelings, do they feel like tastes and colors and textures?"

  "Yes?" Jahir frowned. "Sometimes I can't identify them, however."

  "So it works off my memories as well as yours?" Vasiht'h frowned. "Not always though. Most of the time, I recognize the things it's keying off of."

  "But not always." Jahir glanced at him. "Will that change over time?"

  "I don't know." Rue, sour as an unripe berry. "Sehvi's been doing more reading on it than I have. I haven't even been doing the reading I should be!"

  "You have been somewhat distracted," Jahir said, exaggerating the tone until he could feel the trickle of golden effervescence returning through the mindline.

  "Not fair!" Vasiht'h said, grinning. "You're already using the thing to tailor your comments to my reactions."

  "If the tool is there...." Jahir smiled, then allowed the good humor to deflate as he watched the readings on the halo-arch. They never fluctuated. "It is for my own sake as much as yours, arii."

  "I can see that," Vasiht'h replied, subdued.

  "Perhaps you might catch up on your reading? It would give you something to do."

  "And what will you do while I read?" Skepticism, sharp like a butter knife: not enough to cut, but enough to warn of truer weapons.
>
  "Listen to your thoughts while you study," Jahir said.

  Vasiht'h's ears prick. "Will that work?"

  "I don't know. But the experiment will occupy us both."

  "Works for me," Vasiht'h said, and dug in his saddlebag for his data tablet.

  The time that passed then had a peculiar quality, with Vasiht'h's mind supplying a murmur in the back of his, like a distant trickling stream of facts and conjectures and graphs and the halo-arch overlaying it with the anxiety of its never-changing read outs and soft chirps and hums. Jahir sat on the stool and tried not to become too involved in either, lest the juxtaposition grow too discomfiting.

  An hour into their vigil, a Seersan healer-assist glanced in the room. "Doing all right?"

  "So far, no change," Jahir reported.

  She nodded. "I'm Evie. I'm the specialist who dialed in the drugs for the new treatment they want to try."

  "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

  She chuckled. "Still polite after sitting here for this long?"

  "He's always polite," Vasiht'h said without looking up from his data tablet.

  That spread a grin over her demi-muzzle. "All right. Well I hope not to be needed, but we'll see. If anything happens, the halo-arches will dispense the medication automatically, but an alert will go off and I'll show up to see how it goes and adjust anything as needed. Hopefully, we'll take care of the problem."

  "That would be ideal," Jahir said.

  "We should all live in an ideal universe," she agreed, one ear twitching outward to go with her crooked smile. "Of course if we did, they wouldn't need us healers." She touched the side of her fingers to her brow in casual salute. "Carry on, gentles."

  After she left, Vasiht'h sighed and stood, stretching. "We should move on, shouldn't we? I could use the walk."

  "Yes, let us."

  Leaving the room caused him to be ambushed: by Paige, with an alarming-looking cup. "Here. Drink this."

  "Should I ask," Jahir said, and though he kept from sounding glum aloud, Vasiht'h started chuckling beside him. /Do you want that you should drink this for me in my stead?/