Chapter
4: The Empath
There. There it was again.
"Shinobu."
That
glimmer…so bright, yet…shadowy…
"Shinobu,
are you with me?"
Almost…got…it…
"Mr.
Tezuka! Report now!"
Almost
had it.
"Hai. I'm here." He opened his eyes lazily then blinked at the brightness that assailed
them.
"Where
were you? You went off the scope and we
couldn't reach you."
"Oh,
surely you weren't worried? I'm still
here, after all." Shinobu Tezuka could not quite mask the irritation he felt at
being distracted from his little foray.
"That's
not the point and you know it. If you
don't keep hold of the tether when you 'path, we can't monitor you."
"You
can't control me, you mean."
"Shinobu!"
A third voice joined the conversation, this one sounding a bit affronted.
"Ah,
Dr. Zeichen. I didn't realize you were
up there too." Shinobu flicked a glance
at the opaque glass that hid the observation deck several meters above him.
"Would
it have mattered had you known?"
"Of
course, Anna. One should always be considerate
of a woman's tender sensibilities." Amusement twined around the statement.
Dr.
Anna Zeichen blew the blond bangs from her forehead in exasperation. So he was in one of those moods
again. She didn't know what was
stronger: her desire to throttle him or an uncontrollable desire to plant a
big, wet one on those luscious lips. He
knew he had that effect on her too. His
voice, normally already smooth and well-modulated for a colonist, would drop
dark and smoky like tinted glass when he spoke to her.
Shinobu's
teasing alternately flustered and angered the doctor. It simply wasn't very professional to feel for one's subjects,
yet the man really got under her skin. Anna had even toyed with the idea of asking to be assigned to a
different case, but Nuada D'Argent had wanted her to head his pet project. And what Nuada wants…
"Nuada
gets?" Shinobu leaned forward in the reclining chair and spoke huskily into the
com.
"Stop
that!" The woman snapped.
"Stop
what, Anna?"
"Get
out of my head, Tezuka! I may not be an
uber Empath like you, but I can still make your life miserable here at the
Academy. And you will kindly address me
in a manner befitting our status."
"Hai,
Herr doctor!" Shinobu thought a salute and a clicking of shiny, black boots at
the woman.
"That's
it! He's done for the day. 'Trode off, Dr. Reki." Anna hastily snapped
her clipboard shut, refusing to look at her colleague for fear of what she
might find on his face.
She
needn't have worried. The Drego's
expression was as stoic as ever. He
tapped on the keyboard in front of him and the screens' glare that glinted off
his scales abruptly went dead.
"Shinobu,
you're free to go." Reki announced over the com.
"Thank
you, doctors. Anna, always a pleasure."
The silver-haired man stretched languidly then pulled the monitor 'trodes from
his forehead.
The
doors to the lab swished open and the room went dim, signaling the end of the
session. Shinobu checked the time from
the chrono on the wall. The monkey
gets a break? So soon? I must ask Nuada to have Anna monitor me
personally more often.
He'd never seen Anna in person. In fact, he'd never met any of the scientists face to face in the year and a half he'd been at the Academy. He'd wondered why in the beginning, but when he'd broached the subject with Nuada, the man had brushed his concerns aside and mumbled something about procedure.
Shinobu
hadn't minded. There were plenty of
other things to occupy him. When Nuada
had found him on Danae and had offered to train him at the Academy, he'd been
hesitant at first. Sure, his life on
the backwater planet hadn't exactly been a bed of roses, but it had been
home. Then several events had
transpired and Shinobu had no choice but to leave. Nuada had capitalized on his misfortune, dangling the proverbial
carrot in front of his nose.
So
to the Academy he'd gone. And once
there, Shinobu found himself presented with myriad distractions to keep his
mind off his circumstances. Gaia was
the mecca of the galaxy after all, the mother planet around which everything
revolved, and Avalon was its heart.
Shinobu
made his way through the corridors of the neurology lab and emerged into the
outer courtyard of the Academy, the octagon-shaped expanse that provided a
common meeting area for all the other guild halls. During one of his bleaker periods, when he'd not wanted to be
around people and had immersed himself in study instead, Shinobu had read up on
architecture and civil engineering. Upon observing the Academy's layout, he'd discovered that it had been
created with a distinctly medieval renaissance feel to it.
Shinobu appreciated the old-world ambience of
brick and cobblestones, of twining ivy and airy archways that connected the
buildings. He liked the way each hall
faced the courtyard and, from any given window in any given structure, one
could spy on the comings and goings of Academy folk. He enjoyed the juxtaposition of the archaic conceit without and
the advanced technology within.
He'd
made good use of that advanced technology. In Danae, a planet of mining colonists, there had been little in the way
of academic pursuit. Shinobu had always
felt there was something missing in his life and at the time, he hadn't
realized it was his thirst for knowledge that gnawed at his insides. Meeting Nuada and hearing all about the 150
guilds and the endless stream of data that the Academy was privy to had set his
imagination on fire. So, if he were
honest with himself, Shinobu had to admit that his mind had already been made
up to leave Danae even before that unfortunate incident had occurred.
He
knew he'd made the right decision after his first six months at the
Academy. Shinobu had started
alphabetically, visiting the Anatomy Guild first and pestering the scientists
there with every conceivable question his data-starved mind could cook up. Flattered by such eager attention, the men
and women had given Shinobu full access to their files. He'd soaked it up like a sponge, even
pushing them gently into directions that opened their eyes to innovative new
theories. Word got around about Nuada's
pet project and his amazing intelligence and intuition, although few knew the
real reason for his presence there. More guilds had approached Shinobu with offers to teach him all they
knew and the learning had not stopped since.
So
now, confined to Second tier though he was, Shinobu still never failed to be
astounded at the variety of pleasures and amusements to be had. Being poked and prodded like a guinea pig
was a small price to pay for all the wonders he experienced in exchange.
Speaking of
wonders, let me try this again.
Shinobu hid in the shade behind his favorite statue in the courtyard – a replica of Michelangelo's David – and closed his eyes in an attempt to capture that elusive tendril of light and shadow that had plagued him, on and off, for the past five years.
Light…and shadows. So…fascinating. So…beautiful…
~
"What
the hell…?" Mitsu raised a shaky hand to his head and struggled groggily to get
up from his prone position.
"I'd
advise against doing that, Mr. Ikeda."
"Yeah? Well, screw you!" The blond heaved himself
up and was immediately inundated by ten thousand needles of fire dancing the
samba in his head. He groaned loudly
and fell back, clutching at his temples.
"I
told you so." The voice sounded smug.
"Who
the hell are you? Where am I? What did you do to me?" Mitsu looked around
cautiously and could find no evidence of the person anywhere in the stark,
dimly-lit room.
"One
question at a time, please."
"Fuck
you! Answer me now!" The blond had
recovered enough to regain his natural belligerence, although he did wince in
pain as he raised his voice.
"Request
invalid. Cannot compute. Please rephrase."
I should've
known. Damned droids. Good-for-nothing pieces of shit! Figures they'd leave me with a brainless
mecha. Kinda flattering though…
Mitsu
grinned in spite of himself. That
Guardian had known who he was last night, which meant that they'd done some
research on him. And that meant they
knew about his reputation. Which was
the only reason Mitsu could come up with to explain why he'd been assigned to a
droid rather than a human.
Because I'd tear
apart any orga they threw at me.
Like
you tore apart that Guardian last night, his conscience mocked him.
Shaddup! She took me by surprise, is all.
Yeah,
women seem to have that effect on you.
Mitsu
ignored the scornful niggling in the back of his mind and took stock of his
situation. Standing was still a distant
hope as the pain pierced his skull. It
felt like someone had juiced his wetware. Mitsu wouldn't put it past the Guardians to do something as underhanded
as that.
So
the conman appraised his surroundings flat on his back. It was devoid of any furniture save the bed
he was on. The walls were smooth plasticrene
and emitted a sickly bluish glow, a poor excuse for light. The room was a four meter by four meter box
with no evidence of a door or windows. A blinking red light in the center of the ceiling marked the comlink
from which the droid had spoken.
Mitsu
had been in enough places like these in his eleven years as a runner to
recognize it. A holding cell,
then. The conman expected nothing less,
especially after the fuss he'd put up the night before. He remembered elbowing the Guardian in the
nose on their way out of the club. He
also remembered the right hook she had nailed him with in retaliation. Then she'd stabbed him in the back of the
neck with something sharp.
And
that's all he wrote, folks. Fade to
black for R'Ikeda. Damn that bitch! I bet she did use a disruptor on me! Oh, when I get my hands on that woman…vengeance is mine!
But it was not the time to think retribution. Right now, he needed to recalibrate his wetware and get the hell out of Dodge. By his internal clock, Mitsu figured it was about mid-morning which meant he was still in the City; the chutes didn't activate till noon.
Good. The longer away I am from getting shipped
aboveside, the happier I'll be. Mitsu
thought grimly. There was a reason he'd
not stepped foot on both the upper tiers since he was fifteen. It was the same reason that brought a bleak,
shuttered look to his eyes at their mere mention. His crew had learned early on never to speak of Avalon's higher
echelons when he was within hearing range. Doing so was dangerous, as Rigo had found out that one time.
Rigo. The guys. Wonder where they think I am. Hope Char and Sartre tuned them in. Coz if that Guardian is still around, I may just need their help busting
outta here,
Mitsu grudgingly admitted to himself. His niggling conscience cheered at the confession.
Mitsu
decided that enough time had elapsed for his 'ware to recover the
overload. The pain in his head was now
more a dull throbbing rather than a lancing fire. He attempted to sit up once more. And then he noticed it.
"You
motherlovin' sons of bitches! You
bastards! Damn you! What have you done to my hair?!"
Mitsu
clutched at the back of his head. His
ponytail was gone, shorn off to just below his ears, leaving his nape naked and
vulnerable. He felt for his 'trode port
gingerly; it had been years since it'd been exposed like that. Mitsu experienced a profound sense of
violation and mounting apprehension. Why the hair? What purpose did
that serve? Humiliation? It wasn't like
Guardians to play mind games; they were strictly protocol whores who did
everything by the book. This wasn't
their style.
Mitsu
was about to call out to the droid again, if only just to chase away his
anxiety with a show of bravado, when he felt a tickling inside his head, as if
someone had dug fingers into his skull and started playing the piano. It was a familiar, albeit uncomfortable,
sensation.
It's happening
again. I thought I'd gotten rid of it
after I'd limited my run in the Omega Belt. What the hell? Am I going crazy
for sure this time?
Mitsu
shook his head but the tickling continued. And then he heard the whispering:
Light…and
shadows. So…fascinating…so…beautiful…
"No! Stop it! Get the hell out of my mind! Droid! Yo, you worthless hunk of
metal! What the hell is going on here?"
Mitsu leaped off the bed and proceeded to bang ineffectually at the walls.
"What
seems to be the trouble, Ikeda?" A new voice came over the com. This time, it sounded human.
"I
don't know what you've got jacked in my 'ware but I want it out now! You hear me? This is in violation of code 7459, you rat bastards!" Mitsu
craned his neck and yelled at the red light.
Ah…darkness. And confusion? Fear? The shadows…the
light…they're calling…
"I
don't know what you're talking about, Ikeda. We haven't done a thing to your wetware. Well, except juice it to keep you amenable."
"Amenable,
my ass! And I don't believe you!" Mitsu
was beginning to feel frantic, hammering at the walls and shaking his head to
rid himself of the whispering.
Shadows. Shadows are…taking over. No more…light? Hello? Who are you?
"I
don't really care what you believe, Ikeda." The voice over the com grew cold.
"Hey,
lady! Is that you? The bitch with the red hair? Coz if it's you, why don't you come in here
and we can go round two, huh? And this
time I'm ready for you!"
Don't
be afraid. I'm your…friend?
"You're
really a glutton for punishment, aren't you?" The voice was derisive.
"It
is you! Let me outta here, you
wench! And stop transmitting!" Mitsu
ceased his attack on the walls and cradled his battered fists against his
chest. The whispering was getting
stronger and it was sapping any vigor he had left.
"I
don't know what you're talking about. But if you want out, then you'll be getting your wish soon. Doctors? I think he's ready."
The
red light turned off.
"Ready? Ready for what?" Mitsu looked around him in
panic, missing the swish of his ponytail as he did so.
Calm…be
calm…friend.
To
Mitsu's left, a wall suddenly disappeared and two men in white lab coats
entered the room, accompanied by a levitating med droid. The conman backed away slowly and wished
with all his might for his blaster.
"Hey,
guys. How's it going? You taking me out of here, then?" Mitsu
smiled disarmingly.
The
two men were silent as they relentlessly stalked him, the med droid in their
wake.
Calm…be
calm…
"Guys? Hey, guys? What say we go and get some drinks over at Sartre's, huh? On me. Whaddaya say, fellas? Drinks
sound good to you? Sartre's a close
personal friend of mine." Mitsu felt his back hit a wall and found himself
cornered. The two men had still not
made a sound.
The
red light blinked back on.
"Do
it." The voice commanded.
With
a quickness and strength that Mitsu would never have expected from medics, the
two men grabbed hold of his arms and dragged him to the bed. As he bucked and screamed, they proceeded to
flip him on his stomach and, while one held him down with a pressure point in
the small of his back, the other reached underneath the bed and activated
magnetic straps that materialized on all four corners. Mitsu found his wrists and ankles
effectively immobilized.
"You
sons of bitches! Fuck you! Fuck
you! Let me go! What the hell is this! What the hell are you gonna do to me?!"
Fear! Why…fear? No more light. Only…fear. Why…?
Mitsu's
chin was propped up and he saw the looming shadows of the two medics reflected
on the plasticrene walls. He also spied
the med droid hovering above him, a long appendage suddenly appearing out of
its bulky form. Long appendage? This looked like no med droid he'd ever
seen. Horror suffocated him as he
watched the droid draw closer to his head.
"No! No! NOOOOOO!"
Twin
screams of pain and fire scorched the Hub and every Empath within a thousand
meters from the Academy keeled over from the force and fury of an Adept level
Empath's uncontrollable spike.
