Hidden Faults (19 page)

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Authors: Ann Somerville

Tags: #M/M Paranormal, #Source: Smashwords, #_ Nightstand

BOOK: Hidden Faults
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Kirvo kept a firm grip on me. He’d barely had his hands off me since I’d met him, which was odd to say the least, though not the oddest thing about this situation. The elevator doors hissed open smoothly, and Jeyle stepped out.

“Hermi,” she said quietly, and then she flung herself into the outstretched arms of the man waiting for us.

We’d arrived in a high-ceilinged, rock-hewn chamber at least as large as my old home. I could see at least half a dozen other people, all dressed in normal warm clothes, their modern style jarring slightly with the old-fashioned wall hangings and rugs. Wood and leather armchairs and well-stuffed bookcases looked as normal as one could wish, and the plentiful lighting on the walls—no harsh overhead lamps as in the prison—made it all appear warm and inviting.

It felt like a really big living room in the world’s largest house. To the left stood a large, circular wooden table—clearly an eating area. To the rear of it, a kitchen area opened out, and from that rose the rich, yeasty smell of baking bread. I could have said it was homey, except my home had never felt this friendly or casual. It was like coming back to my real home. It felt very strange.

Jeyle stepped away from the man she’d been hugging, though she still held his hand. “Jodi, welcome to the refuge. This is Hermi.”

The man—Jeyle's age, short, rotund, and smiling benignly at me—bowed. Like her, he wore his hair long and in a braid. “I greet you, Jodi. Welcome.” Then he grinned at Kirvo. “All went well. I’m glad.”

“Yep. Slick and fast. Jodi did good. Well.”

“Er, thanks.” Strange how everyone knew my name.

“I won’t overwhelm you with introductions,” Jeyle said, “but you probably want something hot to eat and drink. Kir, take his coat and things. Come, dear. You’ve had a terrible time of it, but it’s over.”

I resisted as Kirvo tried to help me with my coat. “Hang on. Who are you? How many paranormals are there in here?”

Hermi stepped forward. “We’re all gifted, Jodi. Like you, we’re all escapees from the prison system. This is our home, and from here, we try to do what we can to help our tormented brothers and sisters. I’m an empath, one of two here. There are other telekinetics like Jeyle, quite a number of telepaths, and you’ll be our fifth pyrokinetic.” He held up his hands—tattooed like mine, though with the empath symbol, not a PK’s. “I know you’re afraid, and this is very bewildering. Will you let me help you?”

“How?” What could an empath do?

He came forward and put his hand on my arm. I flinched. “Easy, easy. No one is going to hurt you. There’s no way my gift can harm you at all.”

As he spoke, a curious, undeniable sense of warmth and peace filled me, leaching away my anxieties and fear, even my weariness—the way a good glass of temlido taken in good company by a fireplace might do. His face twisted as if he felt worse as I started to feel better, but then his expression cleared. The whole thing took mere seconds.

Jeyle came to his side, and he leaned on her. “Thank you, love,” he murmured. “Jodi?”

Kirvo came to stand beside me. “What did you do?” I asked Hermi, frowning.

I felt...good. Normal. How...? I stared at him in confusion. Empaths didn’t have this kind of power—did they?

“How did you do that?”

“The government of Pindone hasn’t been entirely honest with you,” Jeyle said. “Empaths have very special abilities, but enough of that for now. Kir?”

He touched my shoulder. “Jodi? You don’t need the coat. I’ll show you where I put it, if you need it.”

His expression grave and respectful, he helped my fumbling fingers unzip and unbuckle, and then took the coat, gloves, and other outdoor gear away, making sure I could see where he hung it on a hook in a little alcove. He returned bearing three pairs of brightly coloured felt slippers, handing a pair to Jeyle and one to me.

“We wear these inside—more comfortable than boots.”

Hermi brought me a stool to sit on, and again Kirvo helped me, changing my boots for the slippers. Though I felt like a child, this was the kindest and most considerate anyone had been to me in months. I recalled what Hermi had said about Kirvo.

“You know what it’s like,” I whispered to his bent head.

“Yeah. More than you think. There—they fit?”

They did, and were warm and soft and the prettiest things I’d seen since I’d been imprisoned. Someone had embroidered them with birds and tiny flowers, for the sake of adding beauty. Tears threatened again, but Hermi laid his hand on my shoulder and the emotion eased, whether the result of his powers or the touch, I didn’t know.

“Come and sit with us, Jodi. I’m sure food with some actual taste won’t go amiss.”

They took me over to the big table. The other residents kept away, sitting casually in the armchairs scattered about, as if the arrival of a stranger was of no interest to them.

They know what it’s like too,
Kirvo told me in my head. “Sit down, Jodi. I’ll get you something to eat.”

The ‘something’ turned out to be a thick and delicious bean stew—the flavour almost unbearably rich after months of stodge—and crusty bread, accompanied by well-sweetened khevai. In my mind, I thanked Kirvo for the consideration of small portions. He caught the thought and smiled. He really did know what it felt like.

I ate slowly, looking around, trying to take it all in without annoying anyone. Jeyle and Hermi spoke with Kirvo, apparently ignoring me, but not really doing so. If I looked as if I needed something, one of them would turn to me with a smile, or glance my way and make it clear I only had to ask. They gave me space and privacy, and since I’d had neither in far too long, I was pathetically grateful for the kindness.

I still felt weak—too much exertion and too many shocks to the system—and I hoped they weren’t going to expect to interrogate me soon. I couldn’t imagine what I could tell them, but I didn’t think they’d rescued me for purely altruistic reasons.

Wrong.

I looked up and glared at Kirvo.
Stop reading my mind.

Stop thinking about me when you’re five midecs away. You’re wrong. We don’t want nothing. Anything,
he amended, shooting a quick glance at Jeyle. He had a rather common accent, as if he had come from the same background as Ganwe, but had more advantages.

No, Jodi, I ain’t had no advantages.

Now
he
was glaring.

You’re going to have to stop that. I can’t help what I think. I meant nothing by it. Everyone’s new. I’m just working it all out.

Sorry. Um...sore point, that’s all. We saved you because we could. It’s really rare these days we find out where any of our major talents are being held, and even rarer that we can get in and get them out. You’re the first in five years.

How did you find me then?

He reached over and patted my hand.
It’s a long story, and you’ve had a hard day. How long before the naksen runs out?

I’d completely forgotten about the drug.
Um...two days, maximum. Not absolutely sure.

He nodded.
Cos they keep dicking around with it, yeah, I know. You can either wait for it to run out natural, like, or we can extract what’s left so you can get it over and done with. Either way, it’s gonna suck, but we can do some stuff to help.

No, do it straight away. Er, well, after I’ve had a chance to eat.

While you’re asleep is the best thing because you don’t get the cramps so bad.
“You want some more of the stew?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you. It was good.”

He grinned. “That’s Mareine. He’s a great cook.” He pointed at a red-haired man of about forty, working over in the kitchen. The guy waved back. “He’s a TK. If you’re gonna go through withdrawal soon, I’ll save the introductions until you’re back to normal. But I need to let Dedeke look you over, make sure you’re okay. She’s our doctor.”

“Now we’ll have two,” Jeyle said, smiling at me. “Jodi, this is your home now for as long as you want. We want you to feel safe and comfortable here, so if there’s anything you need or want, speak up. We may not be able to do everything you ask, but we’ll try. There’s not one of us who hasn’t suffered as you have, for the same reason. All we want is the freedom to live in peace, and without concealing our natures. Any part of our natures,” she added with a knowing smile. “I wasn’t expecting to have so much of that revealed so quickly though.”

I flushed. “Sorry about that. I was angry about a bunch of Marranite busybodies trying to pretend they could help.”

“They did, only they didn’t know how they would. Anyway, a number of us are bisexual or homosexual. No one here has a problem. If they did, I’d have to hang them up by their toes until they stopped.”

I laughed at her innocent expression and Hermi’s scolding nudge. “You really aren’t Marranites.”

“No, but I’m happy to use them if it suits me. Kir, take him to see Dede and then let the poor man rest, change clothes, and so on. Take a bath too.”

“A bath? Here?”


We got...
we’ve
got,” he amended at Jeyle’s look, “everything. All the facilities in the world. ‘Cept windows and we don’t need them. We’ve got a daylight lounge so’s we don’t get sick.”

“We get out in the fresh air more than enough,” Jeyle added. “You’re not trapped, I promise you.”

Maybe not in theory, but in reality, I had no chance of walking out of here. But right now, I didn’t particularly want to. I wanted my old life back, but it didn’t exist any more. I was open for any substitute that didn’t involve rape and abuse.

“Do you want to see Dede first, or your room?” Kirvo asked when he’d cleared my plate away.

I wanted to say ‘room’ but a proper medical check up was warranted. “Dede, please.”


She’s nice. Not like them prison doctors.
Those
prison doctors.”

From the living area, we walked down a short hall. He helped me down a little set of steps with the same careful solicitousness he’d shown all the way along.

“You know me, don’t you,” I said, realising there had to be a reason for his attentiveness. “I’ve met you before.”

He smiled, but a little warily. “Yeah. Had to block the memory though, for your own good. I’ll explain, but not now.”

“But when—”

He put his finger to his lips. “Later. Come on. You’ll like Dede.”

We passed a room stuffed with electronics. Two people worked at viewcoms, intent on their tasks.

“The listening room,” Kirvo explained, waving a hand at the doorway.

We didn’t go in. Two rooms further on was the doctor’s office and what appeared to be a little clinic. A woman of Jeyle’s age—short, plump, and smiling—rose to welcome me.

“Jodi, I greet you. I’m Dedeke. Call me Dede.”

She also wore a braid. Kirvo didn’t. I wondered why.

“Arwe Dede,” I acknowledged formally.

She laughed. “Oh my, it’s been years since anyone called me ‘Arwe’. I apologise for not using your title. We don’t go in for that much here.”

I flushed. I’d been horribly rude. “No, I—”

It’s okay, Jodi. She ain’t offended.

She gave him a look. “I can explain myself perfectly well, young man. Now, Jodi, I’d like to examine you. Do you want Kir to stay or go? I know you’ve had some appalling experiences. Sorry, I should have explained, I’m a telepath too,” she said as I glared at Kirvo for giving away my secrets. “The medics in prisons here are notoriously vicious. They’re just as bad in the women’s prisons, I assure you.”

I nodded, embarrassed for knowing something so intimate about her, and that she knew about me too.

“Shall I ask Kir to leave?” she asked.

“No...but does he have to watch?”

“No, of course not. Jodi, we’ll go behind there.”

Behind her desk and bookcases, there was a cubicle which looked much like those in any small hospital—same basic bed, same equipment. How did they get this kind of thing up here?

She drew the curtain, giving an illusion of privacy from Kirvo, who’d taken a seat by her desk. The clinic was well equipped, with a further three beds, and a door at the end of the room with warning signs about scanning equipment being in use. I found it strange to see bare rock instead of painted walls, though. It, like everywhere else I’d seen, was brightly decorated with woven hangings and paintings, some directly onto the rock itself, some abstract, some naturalistic, all showing a high degree of skill. I’d heard that the major level paranormals had a tendency towards artistic talent. It seemed the rumour was true. But how long had people been here?

Dede didn’t respond to my unspoken thoughts. I didn’t know if that was better than Kirvo’s honesty or not. Having had no experience of telepaths before, this disoriented me more than our sudden mad flight across the country through the powers of telekinesis.

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