Decided a couple things were worth mentioning. First, this part of the fic ended up being a starting point for another I just started posting here. I had already finished a draft of this one ridiculously ahead of the other. Second, my idea for Fiona's background is for her to be (partly) Adyghe. That's the level of research I do for my all-original fiction.
Melinda Desmond's reservation proved to be at one of the most select restaurants in Berlint, one where only adults were admitted. When Steven's three-wheeler pulled up, several burly attendants were waiting to help. He waved for them to assist Fiona instead. She walked alongside him with her cane. She was well aware of a number of reporters with cameras, and two or three who were undoubtedly spies. She considered the risks, and quickly decided that the spies were simply there to observe the usual clientele. She took very casual note of a Barkas van that drove in the direction of a rear delivery area. Then she smiled at the sight of a blond man and a dark-haired woman saying good-bye to a pink-haired girl.
Chloe sat in the back of the van, alongside the wheelchair-bound telepath named Rolf and his caretaker. She looked up as another came back from the passenger seat. "So, Yuri," she said, "Ms. Winchell has been telling me about our telepath. He can draw. He can also talk. Apparently, that's rare."
"That's oversimplifying, but yes, most never develop full verbal communication," Dr. Linda Winchell said. "Rolf was originally institutionalized as a nonverbal schizophrenic. The problem is that telepaths struggle to differentiate their own thoughts and identities from those they perceive around them. It is like using a finely tuned compass in the heart of a battleship…" Her patient was grimacing. Abruptly, he whined. She put a hand to his forehead.
"I'm sorry, but he is having trouble," the doctor said. "As I explained, uncontrolled contact with the general public is very difficult, even dangerous. In fact, I believe there may be another telepathic individual relatively close…"
"How close?" Yuri asked.
"Perhaps… as little as 40 kilometers," she said.
Fiona sat down beside Steven. Yor Forger sat down between her and Loid. Fiona made a point to show no displeasure as she smiled at Loid. He was in a green suit he sometimes wore at the hospital, which was underdressed for the restaurant but worn well enough to pull it off. Yor wore a beautiful black pantsuit. Kill your emotions, she repeated to herself. You love him. You must hide it, even from him. Especially from him. It is your secret. It is the only secret that matters… And 2 blocks away, Rolf Marcovicz cried out in pain.
"Ah, Colonel Stahl," Loid said with a smile, "I'm sorry, I haven't introduced you to my wife…"
"Yor Forger," Steven said. He reached across to take Yor's hand. She blushed, but did not look surprised. "Trust me, with all the permits and paperwork, I get to know everyone at city hall. She's the nicest of the bunch. Well, Sharon's a good listener."
"Why, thank you, Mr. Stahl," Yor said. She giggled and blushed. "You flirt. At least you found someone on the market." She turned to Fiona, with a hint of mischief in her smile. "Fiona, it's so good to see you again. Loid says the two of you are really hitting it off."
Fiona gave a well-practiced smile that made Loid suppress a wince. "I suppose so," she said. "We only met a month ago. It's not like we'd get serious, yet."
"Hm, I don't know," Steven said. He quite casually took her hand in his. "First impressions usually aren't all wrong, as long as nobody is being deceived. In my experience, woman are better judges than men. Ah, here comes our host… and a few more, it seems." The staff had gathered at the entrance for a clearly esteemed guest. They parted deferentially for Melinda Desmond. She was underdressed, which for her was unquestionably an act of defiance. Two more followed. One was an old, balding man, who to her trained eye might have been only a little older than Steven yet had aged far less kindly. He walked arm in arm with a blonde who looked to be around Melinda's age. A half dozen followed behind her, including two burly men. They were not outnumbered by the veritable swarm who led Melinda to the table.
Dr. Winchell pressed a hand to Rolf's brow again. "So, a telepath can project their thoughts to others?" Yuri Briar asked. "The files from the state research program were unclear."
"Yes, telepathy can work both ways," the doctor said with a touch of irritation. "It requires a very close bond, built up over months at least. With another telepath, it would be different, but it comes down to equal and opposite problems. As for using them for so-called mind control, that would be like trying to steer an ocean liner by hitting the rudder with a polo mallet."
"Of course, we looked into that," Yuri said. "Still… what do you really know about how telepathy works?"
"If we know anything, it is that all humans have some telepathic capacity," the doctor said. "If it were not so, a telepath would be like a radio without a broadcast to receive. Actually, members of the intelligence community tend to score somewhat above average. There is still a vast difference in capability between an ordinary person and a true telepath. If it were the sense of hearing, you and I would be snakes, and Rolf would be a bat." Yuri nodded in understanding.
The doctor stroked Rolf's scalp. "There was interference, but he is attuned to Ms. Frost's mind," she said. "I could have him try to read the minds of others close to her. I advise against it."
"Proceed, by all means," Yuri said. "Better to hold onto something than risk ending with nothing."
"Hello, Dr. Forger," Melinda said. "Yor, it is so good to see you again, I have been a little busy. Steven, I was thinking, why not catch up with a couple more friends from the old days?" She waved toward the pair who followed. "This is Owen Wilde. And his wife, Jennifer."
The trio sat down. "It's good to meet you," Fiona said to Owen with her same smile. "Steven has told me about you. I think he mentioned your wife, but I wasn't clear… Were you in the movies, too?"
"Oh, yes," Jennifer said. "For a while. I didn't last as long as Melinda did. I got a few supporting roles. I did more as an assistant. I got to be good with a camera. I got one big break…" She glanced at Melinda with a sly smile. "I had a gig as Melinda's stunt double." Fiona kept herself from staring. When she looked sidelong at Steven, he only gave his usual smile.