Chapter 11 #2
Olavskaya handed Arco a glass of tea. Her hand trembled, as if the weight of the glass taxed her strength. “Notes only.” Her expression turned sly. “But you will remember.”
Arco smiled. “The important parts, at least.”
Olavskaya was a high-level polymath minder with talents across the category spectrum.
Her sifter senses probably detected Arco’s modest talents, but Arco hadn’t admitted them to anyone in a long time.
Except Brenner, because she felt he should know one of her secrets, considering she knew so many of his.
After she asked simpler questions about Minder Corps offices and the upcoming budget review to help Olavskaya feel comfortable talking, Arco eased into her real area of interest. “The new health data about Minder Corps veterans seems to have upset the CPS.”
Olavskaya snorted. “Understatement of the galactic year.” She peeled the top layer of bread off a miniature sandwich and set it aside on her small plate. “Accurate data doesn’t support their narrative. To our illustrious leaders, inconvenient facts are a threat to the galactic peace.”
The bluntness surprised Arco. She didn’t need an empath talent to sense the pain and bitterness underlying the woman’s words.
“What truth?” asked Arco, quelling her sparking finder talent.
Olavskaya held up her trembling hand and stared at it for a moment before letting it drop to her lap.
“Three years ago, my health collapsed. The CPS medics said I’d developed a one-in-a-billion adverse reaction to my enhancement drug regimen.
They tried every other drug combination in their arsenal, and a few experimentals, but I continued to deteriorate.
They finally gave me symptom palliatives and sent me home to die.
” A delicate flush of color rose in her cheeks.
“I would have, too, except a minder healer friend broke all the regulations to clear all the drugs out of my system and cure the addiction.” She shook her head.
“You’d think at my age, I’d have lost my innocence decades ago, but I’d blinded myself with loyalty.
I fervently believed today’s Citizen Protection Service is the same agency I’d proudly signed on with the day I graduated from the Institute.
It took my dear friend’s risky action and words to open my eyes.
” She drilled Arco with a piercing look. “The drugs are killing us all.”
Arco made a note on her tablet, mostly so as not to rush the conversation. “Do minders take them willingly?” The leaked clinical notes in the health data implied they didn’t, but the unknown people who’d published it could easily have suppressed any data points that didn’t support their goals.
“No,” replied Olavskaya, “we don’t.” She breathed deeply as her expression twisted in disgust. “These days, everyone with dangerous talents must take enhancement drugs.”
“Dangerous?”
“The telepathic and telekinetic classes, mostly, especially if they’re multi-talents, or polymaths like me.” Her lips curled with distaste. “The CPS has stupidly undervalued the patterner class for so long they’ve lost track of them.”
Arco filed that tidbit away to think about later. “What did you do?”
“You mean after my miraculous recovery?” Olavskaya set her plate with its dissected but uneaten sandwich back on the cart.
“Went back on a light regimen of drugs, then used my skills and talents to figure out how best to fool the regular and random compliance monitoring. Oh, excuse me, ‘medical welfare evaluations.’” Sarcasm sharpened her tone.
“Used my experience and privileged access to study drug reaction statistics. ‘One in a billion’ is more like one in a hundred.”
Arco opened an old note on her tablet to give Olavskaya a moment. “Did you go back to the Institute?” She remembered the professor had loved her job.
“Yes, but as a researcher, not a teacher. I could no longer lie to those beautiful, talented children.” She sighed.
“My health is still fragile. Technically, I’m still on active duty, so I’m forbidden to entrust my health to civilian medics, not even for a pain patch.
” Her lip twisted. “Couldn’t have them accidentally curing me. ”
This was so much more than Arco had been expecting. Her finder sense lit up. So many glowing threads to follow. “When do the drugs start?”
“First day of service. For top-level talents, drugs start at the Institute. We agree because it’s confirmation that we’re now adults and we’re special.
They compensate us with advancement. Extra pay.
Pride in service to humankind.” Her lips twisted.
“And if we don’t agree, the CPS uses the ‘exigent circumstances’ statute to force us.
That obscure ‘extraordinary need’ clause is their license for anything. ”
After making another note, Arco looked up. “Where do the pharmas fit into this?”
Olavskaya’s expression turned hard and remote. “You’d have to ask the medical branch.”
Arco waved apologetically and scrambled for a safer tangent.
“Actually, I was hoping you could tell me what the Academy and Institute know about their students. Not just test results and evaluations, but what they are taught besides how to use their talents.” She fingered the rim of her tablet. “The culture, perhaps.”
Olavskaya’s bony shoulders relaxed a fraction.
“Our students are all gifted. The best of the best, and their records reflect it. I hope my students learned the responsibility of talent as well as the joy of it. Two hundred years ago, the new Central Galactic Concordance government created the Minder Corps to give minders a safe way of providing public service and to help in times of need. I don’t think our current leaders remember that often enough. Or at all.”
A random fact fell into place in Arco’s mind and sparked an idea.
“I’m working on another story, too. The CPS used to deploy disaster response teams across the Concordance, with a unit on every member planet.
I’ve covered a lot of catastrophes, but CPS teams aren’t there much anymore.
There’s a service organization based here in Arazak called...
” She tapped a note on her tablet. “Xīnlíng Réponse al Crisis. ‘Minder Crisis Response’ in Standard English, or just XRAC. I think they’re the private-charity version of those teams. Do you know anyone I could talk to about it? ”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Olavskaya smiled.
“Several of my colleagues volunteer for them. I have a friend on the governing board. I will make the introduction.” She primly folded her hands together in her lap.
“Like me, she will appreciate not being surprised by a famous investigative journalist such as yourself.”
Arco shook her head. “Famous or not, I don’t believe in pouncing.”
Some in her industry specialized in ambush interviews, but she’d rejected that tactic long ago. Deep sources could never trust the ambusher not to expose or burn them to flush out a juicier target.
Olavskaya raised an eyebrow. “Interesting that you and your Novo Granica colleagues are newly on the CPS’s ‘no contact’ list, then.”
Arco blinked. “We are?”
“Yes, by name, and planet-wide. Direct order from Administrator Pennington-Smythe.” Her mouth curved in amusement. “I expect you’ll see an uptick in sales. It certainly inspired me to read all your recent stories to see what made her so mad.”
Blacklisting was an occupational hazard for most investigative journalists. It usually motivated her to dig deeper. “I’m grateful you took the chance to talk to me.”
Olavskaya’s smile took on a teasing quality. “I suspect lofty wolves dislike having their tails pulled by determined little foxes.”
Brenner made a sound that could have been a laugh or a cough.
Olavskaya eyed Brenner for a long moment, then turned back to Arco. “I am intrigued by your security chief. Tell me about him.”
Arco smiled to cover her spike of unease. “He says he likes fresh sausage rolls. If you want to know anything else, you’ll have to ask him.”
Olavskaya’s eyes shifted to Brenner. “What is your best talent, Mr. Brenner?”
His expression held a hint of thunder. “Leaving.”
With that, he turned and strode to the flat’s entryway and through the doors that opened for him.
Moments later, Tōn Ko stepped in, looking around at the beautiful room as he moved to the same place Brenner had stood. The doors closed behind him.