Chapter 13 #2
“Yes.” They both knew the consequences.
The rare ex-Jumpers who didn’t have waster’s disease either became the CPS’s performing ponies for the media or vanished in the black-box division, never to be heard from again.
Samara’s shoulders slumped a fraction. “I used to tell myself I’d never become another Neirra Varemba, helping people so I could use them as weapons for the good of the cause.” She sighed. “I promised myself a lot of things.”
The forlorn quality of her tone made him want to comfort her, but he didn’t know how. For all that they’d been friends for thirty years, she was still an enigma to him.
Shielders like her often had a problem with sharing themselves and trusting others.
Considering the true, galaxy-class level of her shield talent, maybe even better than Ayorinn, the legendary top-level polymath, he suspected she had to fight her instincts to armor up against everyone.
Couple that with her hidden healing talent that made her want to help people, and it was a wonder the constant cognitive dissonance didn’t permanently warp her beyond recovery.
Tuzan crossed his arms. “You’ve proved the cure is repeatable by healers not named Neirra, and the other subjects are showing similar improvements to Subject Zero.”
That was their designation for Soleil Benoit, Neirra’s first patient and the proof of concept for the cure. She’d saddled Soleil with a sealed information packet in her mind and given Tuzan the key.
The implications were incendiary.
If Neirra had figured out the cure on her own, while drugged and under the brutal control of a twisted CPS handler, why hadn’t the CPS found it? They’d had seventy years, millions of healers, and countless legions of researchers at their disposal.
And if they had found it but suppressed it? No excuse would save the agency if news got out. He knew Neirra well enough to know she’d consider that to be her biggest contribution to nurturing the Legacy.
Tuzan had shared Neirra’s mental packet with Samara as soon as he could. They’d agreed it had to be tried on other patients besides Soleil.
They started with an ex-Jumper with stage four waster’s disease who worked for one of his companies.
After the three-hour healing session, Tuzan erased the man’s memories.
He also gave him a strong compulsion to be secretive about his health and to stay away from the CPS clinics.
Seeing the man’s official CPS test meter, he’d been inspired to give it the ability to secretly send all correct test results to him, and to send false data to the CPS.
Subject One’s real numbers were steadily declining, as they had for Soleil.
Samara got herself assigned to a longitudinal study that gave her an excuse to read the out-processing records of all ex-Jumpers on the planet and conduct direct interviews to correct missing or questionable information.
Thereafter, they targeted random ex-Jumpers from anywhere and found ways to get them to Ridderth for a healing session, which Samara could now do in under two hours. All the subjects received enhanced test meters as if they’d come from the CPS. Which they had, because he’d stolen them himself.
Samara’s mouth twisted. “Thirty-three Jumpers is less than a dust mote in an asteroid field. We can’t do many more, or some bright data diver will notice Mabingion is the common denominator for the cluster of cures.
The trending rumors of a commercial drug-based cure have already made the CPS hounds extra inquisitive. ”
“I’m working on it.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Trustworthy top-level healers who the CPS can’t pressure are rare. Hell, even finding a healer who can work together with our shielder so you can teach–”
Her cuff-style percomp blinked insistently. Frowning, she activated it, then stood abruptly. “Great chaos, look.” She expanded the display into a holo.
The news streamed raw reports of multiple explosions across the city.
The rapid-cut feed showed fires defying the ever-present rain at eight locations and counting.
A dilapidated warehouse in the Canals. A high-rise in the media district.
A laboratory that burned so hot, it melted the glass sidewalk and street.
Breathless announcers reported that businesses were closing and sending employees home. The Ridderth police belatedly declared a citywide emergency and ordered everyone to stay put. The traffic control system strained to give priority to first responders.
When the feed began to repeat, she closed the display. “I can’t stay. I need to get stuck in traffic like everyone else.”
Her words killed his secret hope that they’d be stuck together for a while.
She grabbed her coat to pull it on.
He touched her arm. “Before you go, I’d like to ask about perma-shields for a journalist who works with Novo Granica here in Ridderth. She’s been sending lightning to the heart of darkness, and now she’s vulnerable.”
Samara nodded as she patted her various pockets. “Tell me who to look up, and I’ll get back to you. How soon?”
“Fast. She’s made too many connections to Soleil as it is.” He pointed toward her chest pocket. “Your hood.”
Turning to his bag, he lifted a square take-out box to offer to her. “Ignore the logo. It’s homemade gyros and green toms in a flatbread. No sauce.” He twitched a smile at her. “Neirra called Soleil the Jumper’s hope, but you’re the hope of all minders. You need to eat.”
A succession of unreadable emotions flashed across her face. “It’ll be hard to…” Her gaze moved away for a moment, then returned to him. “You are far kinder to me than I deserve.” She took the box by its handles with a slight, respectful bow.
He walked her to the door as she pulled on the hood. As he reached for the wallcomp, she intercepted his hand and spoke to him via telepathy. The skin contact made the link strong. He hastily contained any stray thoughts and emotions she didn’t need to know about.
“Find trainable healers for the Jumper cure. Find trainable pairs of shielders and healers who can work together to implant shields.” She shared a brief image of one of the explosions from the news. “Ayorinn’s red sparks are here early. I don’t want to be irreplaceable.”
Her reference to an earlier Legacy quatrain resonated deeply. After his sister’s death, he’d been ready to close the minder escape network and abandon everything else on Mabingion. Even her. That quatrain, plus unexpected new friends, convinced him to more fully engage instead.
“I will.” His heart overran his defenses for a brief moment. “You’ll always be irreplaceable to me.”
“That’s sweet,” she replied, right before she dropped his hand and their connection immediately.
He smiled and opened the door to let her leave, pretending he wasn’t feeling like a boot to the heart had just kicked him out into the cold black void.