Hidden Faults (20 page)

“This is all so strange,” I blurted out.

“Yes. I know it is,” she said, nodding sympathetically, “and this is going to be a difficult time for you, getting used to so many new things, and the naksen withdrawal on top of it. The difference between here and prison is that we want to help you. We’ve all needed it in the past, Jodi. There’s no need for shame at feeling weak.”

She had very kind eyes. I felt I could trust her—but what if this was all a massive mind trick? What if she was manipulating my emotions, my thoughts...?

My chest tightened, and suddenly I needed to be out of here, in the open air, not trapped. “Sorry...I...I need to—”

I pushed past her and dashed for the door. Kirvo jumped to his feet, but I ignored him and his shout. I ran back along the halls until I reached the big chamber. People, eating their lunch, all turned and stared in surprise at my bursting into the room in a panic.

I needed...I had to get out...I didn’t know how to —

“Jodi, calm down. You want to get out? I can take you.”

Startled, I threw off Kirvo’s hand and hung onto the doorpost, breath heaving with the slight exertion and the fright.

“I need to get out. I...I....” I collapsed to my knees, heart pounding, sweat breaking out. “Help me...please...let me out of here.” I couldn’t breathe.

He wrapped his arms around me. “Shhh, shhh. Just a panic attack. Shhh.”

I struggled a little, but he kept hold, murmuring and shushing. I wanted to puke.

Then Hermi was there, his hands on my shoulders. The terrors began to fade immediately, and I found it easier to breathe. I slumped back into Kirvo’s embrace, exhausted.

“Easy, Jodi,” Hermi whispered, massaging my shoulders. “Just a little panic attack. Perfectly normal.”

Gradually the sick aftereffect of adrenaline faded, though I still felt a little nauseated. I hung my head, bitterly ashamed of myself.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. I hadn’t even done that in prison.

“Good grief, what for? For being frightened and anxious after all that’s happened? Even just today?”

“What if it’s all a trick? What if this isn’t real? What if Kirvo and you and Dede are making me think I’m safe and I’m not?”

“I can’t make you feel anything I don’t feel myself, or you don’t feel. So unless I believe a lie, I can’t convince you of it, Jodi. All I’ve done to you is absorb some of the darker, more disturbing emotions—so they pass from you to me.” He touched his chest. “I know exactly how terrified you are. Look at me, dear boy.” I stared up into his grey eyes. “I’m not lying to you. Neither are they. You fear we work for Noret. Our fear is that by helping someone like you, we expose ourselves to discovery by his people. We’ve all taken a risk today.”

I wanted to believe him...it made sense...but what if they were all lying....

“I...I just panicked.”

“S’all right, Jodi,” Kirvo said, his hand rubbing mine, his warm, solid body behind me soothing, reassuring. “I’m not lying to you. No one is. If you want to go up top, I can show you how. If you want to go back to Vizinken, take your chances, we’ll do what we can. Thing is, we can’t protect you down there like we can here.”

His hands were hard and calloused against my skin. They felt honest to me. “I just...let me up. I’ll stop being stupid.”

He and Hermi helped me stand. I felt so ashamed, I couldn’t look at either of them.

“Jodi, would you like to go up top?” Kirvo offered. “I’ll show you how the elevator works.”

“No, it’s okay. I was being an idiot.”

“No, you ain’t.”

“‘Not’, Kir,” Jeyle called quietly. “‘You’re not’.”

“Yeah, Mam, I know. Nag,” he muttered. “You want to see Dede, or lie down for a bit?”

How could I face a professional colleague after that disgusting display? But not to face her would be even more shaming. “I’ll go back. You don’t need to come.”

He took my hand again. “You sure? I don’t mind. I can help maybe. If it gets a bit much and stuff.”

His eyes held nothing but concern. Who
was
this man?

“Whatever you want. You don’t have to coddle me.”

“Actually, he does,” Hermi said, sounding amused. “It’s his nature, so it’d be kind if you let him indulge it, Jodi. He’s harmless.”

“I’m not—”

“Kir.”

I lifted my head and looked at the two of them—Kirvo glaring, Hermi merely patient, as if this was an old argument. Something was going on that had nothing to do with me, but what, I couldn’t guess. I shook myself free of their comforting hands and began to walk towards Dede’s rooms again, my legs still shaking a little. After a moment or two, I heard soft footsteps behind me. I didn’t turn and look. I could figure it out well enough.

Back in her clinic, Dede brushed away my apologies. “If you weren’t having panic attacks, Jodi, I’d think you were abnormal. If you need air, if you need to leave, you just get up and go, okay? Kir will stay or go as you ask. If he goes, and you want him back, you only have to wish it. Take a seat behind the curtain. I can do some basic checks before you get undressed.”

She was as accommodating as I could want any doctor to be, and I refused to play into the stereotype of being a bad patient. When she came back around the curtain, I’d stripped to the waist. She made no comment, just finding me a light linen top to slip over myself when she finished listening to my lungs and heart. She was thorough, though I noticed she was a little out of date in her methods.

“When did you train?” I asked as she finished up, taking a blood sample and asking me to piss in a pot for her.

“Before the terrors, obviously. I try to keep up with journals and so on, but it’s difficult. Fortunately, we’ve yet to have a really serious medical emergency, but as we get older, I worry. That’s why I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I haven’t worked in practice since my post-graduate course. Other than with test subjects, of course. I always intended to, but I was recruited for research....” And look at the research I’d been doing. “I don’t know very much about practical clinical work.”

“Then we’ll learn together, won’t we? I’m looking forward to having your brain to pick, let me tell you. Not like that,” she added hastily.

“I know what you meant.”

I pulled my shirt and jacket back on. It was warm in here. They must have had access to geothermal energy, or perhaps they relied entirely on the wind. Running something like this had to have taken years and years to set up.

“So, am I clear?”

“There’s nothing seriously wrong on the surface, though if you turn out to be anaemic I won’t be the least surprised. A prison diet doesn’t lead to a long life, as you can imagine. You’re very underweight, and appear generally run down, but you know that. They’ll have done standard disease screening in the prison, but I’ll run a full scan just to make sure. It’s usually about the only thing the prisons get right, though. Psychologically, you’re surely also aware you’ll very likely suffer from PTSD.”

Her kind, matter of fact tone took the sting out of her words. “Which I am also aware needs specialist counselling. How do you deal with it?”

“We have no psychs up here, nor do I use psychoactive drugs. However, Hermi and two of our older telepaths have a good deal of experience helping our kind deal with this. Normal psychs are bugger all use, really.” I raised an eyebrow at the vulgarity. “What you need is lots and lots of decent food, unrestricted movement, and rest and freedom from stress. We can let you have all of that, and if you need more, then we can discuss it.”

“The naksen? Will you take the implant out?”

“When you’re done with withdrawal, yes. Kir says you want to start that now?”

“Yes. As soon as possible. Do you use jozidem?”

“No. I don’t believe in pumping more drugs into an already compromised system, and jozidem’s side effects are pretty nasty. There’s a long term carcinogenic effect.”

She made a note on her files, as if she had only stated uncontroversial fact, which she most certainly had not.

“It’s completely safe!”

She looked at me, eyebrow raised. “Yes, I’m sure you were told that. It’s not. Neither is naksen. At least it won’t cause cancer, but it’s scarcely a drug that should be in general use.”

“I never agreed with it, you know. I thought it was the lesser of two evils.”

“A lot of people believe that,” she said, but didn’t elaborate. “We use good old-fashioned TLC to support those of us coming off that hideous stuff. Kir’s offered to be your nurse, and he’s very good at that kind of thing, but if it bothers you to have a man care for you, then I can help. We can use telepathy to help you sleep and dull some of the pain. A mild anti-emetic will help the vomiting.”

I finished doing up my jacket. “How many of you are there here?”

“Fifty-three, all paranormals. You’re the baby of the group,” she said with a smile. “There are two dens, with twenty-seven in this one. You’ll get to meet everyone eventually. There’s plenty of room. You needn’t feel trapped or cramped.”

“How can you have hidden yourself for all this time? And why aren’t you still in prison?”

“Now that’s a long tale, Jodi, and Kir’s looking forward to telling you, aren’t you, dear?”

Kirvo’s distinctive voice sounded in my head.
Yeah. Promised once he was clean, he could hear the full story.

“Is it such a mystery?” I asked as she stood up.

“No, just very long and, in your present condition, probably more than you can handle. Now, you look pretty tired, and though it’s early, I’d say you should try and sleep. Once you’re under, I’ll extract the remaining naksen and put you on a nutrient drip. You’re going to be damn sick when you wake up, but you’ll have us with you every step of the way. In ten days, you’ll be completely and permanently free of it.”

“And that’s worth any amount of suffering. Thank you, Dede.”

She gave me a slight, formal bow. “An honour, Arwe Jodimai. Unless I’m asleep, I’ll hear you ‘call’ wherever I am. Don’t try and be tough about this. You won’t impress me.”

“I won’t.”

Kirvo smiled at me as I came out from around the curtain. “You all right?”

“Why don’t you just read my mind?”

“You don’t need to be a prick, Jodi. I can’t help it. I’m trying here, okay?”

I sighed. “Yes, I know. I’m just...is there any way I can stop people seeing my thoughts? It’s a bit like being back in the cell, with everything I do being on display.”

He came over and touched my arm. “There’s stuff we can do, but I need you to be off the naksen first, then we have to talk about it, cos it ain’t...isn’t straightforward. Until then, can you cut me some slack? It’s bad enough them normals hate me for what I can do.”

“Those normals.”

He pulled a face at me. “Not another one.”

I grinned at his disgust. Such a big kid. “You want to show me where I can sleep?”

He took me down more halls and steps, past private workrooms and unused living quarters. This place was astonishing. The ventilation system alone was a minor miracle. “How long did it take to build this?”

“Hundreds of years. It’s real old. The electrical stuff is new, most of the rest ain’t. Us paranormals been living here on and off for a couple of thousand years. It’s big enough to hold ‘bout two hundred people.”

I ignored the imperfect Pindoni as I tried to comprehend his words. “How? Surely the government knows about this.”

“Nope. Sure, every so often they find out, but people like me been making sure they don’t remember all this time.” He tapped his head and grinned. “This is our place, Jodi. There’s places like this all over the planet, all over Pindone. This is the biggest, but it ain’t the only one.”

“‘Isn’t’,” I corrected absently. “And you’ve been here how long?”

“‘Bout nine years. We worked hard to get it working this good. One day, everyone like us will be able to live here, if they want.”

“You plan to free all the paranormals from prison? Get them off naksen?”

“Eventually, yeah. Gonna take a while.”

No kidding. Stunned by what I’d heard, I followed him in silence as we turned and went down yet again, and found ourselves in a wide hall with doors coming off both sides.

“Here’s the sleeping quarters. Washrooms and showers through there—sorry, we gotta share, but there’s plenty—and there’s two bathrooms at the far end. Everyone cleans up after themselves, ‘course. I picked you out a room, but if you don’t like it, we can change it.”

He opened a door close to the end, near the bathroom. The room, like everything else, had been carved from stone, with wooden posts and lintels supporting the door, a low ceiling, spare, but not bare. A beautiful tapestry hung above an graceful, simple wooden bed, and some simple ornamenting touches like the carved lamp base, some scroll work on the furniture, gave an elegant feel to it all.

The bed itself was covered with several cheerily coloured woollen blankets, and stood ready for occupancy. There was a pale wooden chair, a little desk with a reading light, and a bookcase with books, though I couldn’t see what they were. One wall held built in cupboards, with an area that served as a dresser with a mirror hanging over it, a small sink to one side, and drawers underneath. I had so much space to store nonexistent possessions.