Gruefield 18 (Tarnished Sterling Omnibus)

by Robert McCarroll

  Part 30

  As it turned out, running halfway across the city ripped open some of the blisters from the worst of the frostbite. It was actually quite disgusting to watch them drain the afflicted sores and apply antiseptic. I gained a bevy of new bandages after they applied the balm. I hurt all over, but it was worth it. Ixa had turned up at Sterling Towers around the time I'd been buried under the house. The first thing she did was try to organize the search for me. It was kind of sweet, but I foresaw the possibility of a 'more hero than thou' argument stemming from it. Or more specifically from my part in the mess. I spent too much of my time thinking of ways to defuse the debate than worrying about Overton's interrogation.

  It seems I made the better choice, because as morning rolled around, I still hadn't seen the FBI Agent. I did get a visit from the board. Having all five elder heroes looming over my hospital bed didn't help my confidence as I went over the previous night in excruciating detail. I still lied about the nature of the fight inside my head, but driving Serar out was more relevant than bickering with my self-loathing as far as the overall events were concerned.

  "Let me see if I get this straight," Miriam said. "You're claiming that this psychic battle unlocked a heretofore uncontrollable power set?"

  "I don't think it unlocked it so much as led me to see that it wasn't actually uncontrollable," I said. She looked skeptical at my claims.

  "But you assert that on previous occasions when these abilities manifested, you were not in control of your actions. Is that correct?" she asked.

  "I wasn't even sure I was the one acting," I said. "The evidence pointed to an outside plot."

  "Oh, really?" Miriam said.

  "Miriam," Neutrino said. "You were born with your abilities. Speaking as both a late manifestor and one who has worked with many others, shock and denial are common reactions. Anything that can be rationalized away often is. I find his claims credible."

  "You still acted while on limited duty," Torquespiral. "You failed to notify anyone of your plans, and risked handing a rogue two hostages instead of one. On what basis did you believe Cold Case would even keep his word?"

  "I-" I started. "I had no basis on which to make that assumption."

  "You caused the death of five people," the board member who'd joked about baseballs and concrete before said. I really need to figure out what his name is.

  "I had no way of knowing that disrupting the ritual would trigger a catastrophic failure." Five? Who were the other four besides Bussard?

  "There's a lot you didn't know, isn't there?" Miriam asked.

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "So we should sanction your continued blundering about in ignorance?" she asked.

  "No, ma'am. I don't particularly expect leniency," I said.

  "So you're admitting malfeasance?" the baseball guy asked.

  "I'm admitting that I acted without supervision while on limited duty; that I fought with my teammates while manifesting abilities I didn't know I had; and that I know nothing about magic. The last probably isn't malfeasance." A pall of silence fell over the room.

  "We need to discuss the matter," Neutrino said. The board filed out of my hospital room and closed the door. I slumped my head against the pillow. I wondered if they were going to punt me from the Fund all together. It would be financially ruinous, especially since recent events meant my premiums were going to skyrocket. I wasn't old enough to join A.T.O.M. for the premium forbearance. No one was going to cover my costs for me. I told myself I could put up with anything less than expulsion. Part of me didn't believe it, especially after it brought up all the examples of the awful places I'd dragged myself through for the regular duties.

  Torquespiral stepped back in the room. He was alone. I looked at him, but didn't say anything.

  "The board has decided to defer judgment until after the official ruling on the events surrounding the Ambassador's death."

  "That could take months."

  "Yes, I know. But a ruling by the board on the matter might have a prejudicial effect on the investigation. And given our current public relations issues, showing deference to the proper authorities will help alleviate the damage done so far."

  "I see. And the trouble I caused as the shadow?"

  "On it's own, it should be handled by your team. They'll decide what disciplinary action should be taken, and the board will hear any appeals should there be a claim that it is insufficient or excessive."

  "I see."

  "For the time being, you are still on limited duty and subject to your previous conditions. That has not changed."

  "What happens if I have an appointment with Doctor Lindenbaum and I haven't been checked out of Vanguard?"

  "I doubt that will be an issue."

  When Stephanie came to pick me up, she gave me what might have been the deepest kiss we've shared. Then she punched me in the chest for being an idiot. In total, it was better than the argument I was afraid we were going to have. I was suitably contrite about my foolishness, and by some miracle didn't put my foot in my mouth while doing so. She seemed content to let the topic drop as we drove off.

  We drove back to the base proper and collected the team around the mess hall table. Well, except Nora had work and ran off. And Jennifer apologized. about having to leave to work with Irvin Keyes. Ben looked like crap, grumbling something about a stomach bug before retreating to his quarters. From the expression that crossed Xiv's face, I didn't want to know what Ben was going through. Only Xiv and Pam looked in good form. Stephanie looked almost as exhausted as I felt. Nick was still in obvious pain. Donny had his head on the table and might have been trying to sleep.

  "Is Serar dead or not?" Pam asked. "I've heard rumors both ways."

  "They haven't finished excavating the house," Stephanie said. "But they haven't found his body."

  "No body means assume he's alive," Nick said.

  "Then who did die?" Pam asked.

  "Bussard and some unidentified Morlocks," Stephanie said.

  "What happened?" Xiv asked, almost tearing up as he looked at me.

  "It was an accident," I said.

  "There was no way for anyone not trained in the arcane to understand the danger," Stephanie said. "Bussard was in the middle of a delicate ritual involving a lot of energy. One he may not have performed before."

  "You've been talking to the board," I said.

  "They gave me an update, yes."

  "So, did you kill them?" Xiv said.

  "No," I said. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to hurt anyone, and there was no way to know that interrupting would bring down the house."

  "If you want to blame someone," Stephanie said, "blame Bussard. He was trying to murder Travis with magic."

  Xiv sat silently, musing.

  "So now what?" Pam asked. "Are we still after a psychic who may or may not be dead?"

  "Not at the moment," Stephanie said. "We have to decide what disciplinary action to take for the shadow attacks."

  "Now?" I asked.

  "We have a quorum, we can discuss the matter and get ratifying votes from the others later."

  "You've been reading the charter," I said.

  "I vote we make him team cook and put him back in charge of the paperwork," Nick said.

  "You don't get anything out of that," I said.

  "You also didn't kick my ass."

  Donny grumbled from under his arms, "I don't care. I'll second it if it makes the meeting shorter."

  "We could achieve the same thing just by giving him his old job back," Pam said. "That's not much of a punishment."

  "What would you suggest then?" Stephanie asked. "Bear in mind that he needs to return to active duty at some point, so breaking him isn't an option."

  "Fine, but a few additions," Pam said.
"First, he covers the cost of getting a replacement focus for Miss Pain and at least one spare. Second, the team cook has to take food orders and make sure the kitchen is stocked for snacking when he's not available. No more of this round robin grocery shopping crap. And third, he needs to sign off on that damn TV for the rec room already. That portable doesn't cut it."

  "All right," Stephanie said. "Any opposed votes?" There was silence. "Then we'll pass it on to the absent members for ratification."

  "So," I said. "What's actually wrong with Ben?"

  "Self-inflicted food poisoning," Nick said. "That's why we need a team cook."

  "I predict it will turn out to be a twenty-four hour bug," Pam said.

  "We've resolved that item," Donny said. "Are we done?"

  "I guess," Stephanie said.

  "Good." Donny stood up and staggered towards the stairs. "I'm going to bed."

  "You wouldn't happen to be able to do something for frostbite by any chance?" I asked, looking Stephanie in the eye.

  "Why should I do anything for it?"

  "Well, if it's possible, I don't think the team wants me making food with weeping sores on my fingers."

  "Doesn't affect me," Nick said. "I make my own food."

  "That sludge isn't food," Pam said.

  "I have to keep telling myself otherwise, or I'll go mad."

  "All right," Stephanie said. "I've probably got something that can help."

  I was chafing under the thumb of limited duty. There was so much left to do. We had to find out for certain if Serar was dead. There was the Morlocks' police contact to run down. Three rogue Elementals were still on the loose. And we hadn't figured out who sabotaged Baker's car. What I didn't want to do was waste my time talking to Doctor Lindenbaum about the shadow. I'd already talked to everyone else about it. There was no point in going over it all again with the obnoxious, bald little man with the ugly sweater vests and monotone voice. Somehow I knew he was going to start there.

  I'm sure he saw the burning resentment in my gaze, but the infuriating man refused to acknowledge it. I didn't want to be here, wasting my time with his prattle.

  "How are we today?" Carl asked.

  "I can't speak for you," I said.

  "Then speak for yourself."

  "I'm pissed off," I said.

  "At what?"

  "Having to come here and listen to your annoying voice. Do you even emote?"

  Lindenbaum gave me a smug little grin that said he wasn't going to baited by my words. "You still haven't told me what you'd rather be doing with the time."

  "That doesn't mean I like having it wasted."

  "Then make productive use of it," Carl said. "I'm sure there's something you want to address."

  "Why would you think that?"

  "I could recite most of your own words back to you, at least, those not involved in word games. But that would be insulting your intelligence."

  "How smart could I possibly be? I routinely walk into traps and ambushes. Only sometimes knowingly."

  "Any in particular that stand out?"

  I made a noncommittal noise and looked out the window at the fountain.

  "I'll take that as a no," Carl said.

  "What am I actually here for? What will it take to make you go away?" I asked.

  "We covered this."

  "No, you fed me a line of bull that danced around the first question. We never got to the second," I said. "What is it you actually want?" I fully expected Carl to spout some touchy-feely nonsense about wanting to help me. The infuriating bastard didn't.

  "I want to make sure the Community Fund doesn't produce any more rogues," Carl said.

  "You think I'm going to go rogue?"

  "Who is more of a risk, the well-adjusted, or the mental wreck?"

  "Harsh words for a shrink," I said.

  Carl gave me another of his infuriating little smiles. "While we're on the topic, why do you resent coming here?"

  "I don't need your help."

  "Based on what? You've told me that you try to carry everyone else or, in your words, to be the dependable one. That sounds like quite a load."

  "I can manage."

  "Can you?"

  "Of course I can, there's no other option."

  "You've also told me that you were an inveterate 'screw-up' and you wanted to get back to active duty before your team decided they didn't need you. That doesn't exactly mesh with being the dependable one, does it?"

  "This is why I'm pissed off at having to come here!"

  "It sounds to me like you have a number of views of yourself that are very much at odds with each other. Here's the perfect opportunity to reconcile them."

  "What difference would it make?"

  "To me, none," Carl said. "To you, potentially a great deal."

  "Aren't you supposed to be all caring and crap like that?"

  "No. I'm supposed to be effective. You don't believe that a silly little bald man can be nurturing, and you certainly don't want to be coddled. So, we're back to your self-image, or images, rather."

  "You want me to whine about my self-image while there are bad guys to catch?"

  "There are always bad guys to catch. The world will never run short. Your dissonant image, however, will only serve to impair you."

  I sighed and slumped back against the couch. "I've had people trying to kill me who weren't this goddamn annoying."

  "So," Carl said. "What is it you don't want to face?"

  "You."

  "I doubt that. Try again."

  "My shadow."

  "Elaborate, please."

  "Why the hell didn't it manifest sooner?" I asked. "It would have made all the difference in the world five years ago. But no, it only shows up whenever I don't need it. It's worse than useless, it's taunting me."

  "I'm afraid you've lost me."

  Unbidden and uncontrollable, laughter bubbled up inside. It escaped first as a chuckle, then burst forth as a full-throated laugh. Lindenbaum didn't start with the shadow because no one had gotten around to telling him yet. I'd wasted so much time amd effort with word games. Lindenbaum wasn't some villain to be bested, he was just another functionary whose fiefdom and knowledge had boundaries. He only cared about what fell within those borders. He was, after all, only human. After that sign of simple fallibility, there was a hole in my mental wall. It was simpler to just tell him than to play word games. For the first time, the end of the session snuck up on me, and I wasn't angry or sulking. It was weird.

  Part 31

  I spotted Jennifer and Irvin taking a walk of the sanitarium grounds. Or rather, Jennifer was trying to coax Irvin into stepping off the concrete walkway and walk on the grass. The poor boy looked absolutely terrified, though his complexion was less sickly than when I'd last seen him. Instead of the mismatched thrift store offerings, he was in a white button-down shirt and black slacks. Part of me considered giving him a small push to get him across the threshold. I immediately regretted the stray thought as his wide, terrified eyes turned to me.

  "I wasn't going to do it," I said.

  "Sorry," Irvin said sheepishly, his voice barely a whisper. I immediately knew why it was important to have someone whose mind he couldn't read, because I was annoyed at the apology. I don't think he could help picking up surface thoughts, there was no point in apologizing for it.

  "Sorry," Irvin said again, apologizing for the apology. I hurried off before my annoyance caused a bigger problem. My annoyance proved to be insignificant as a field of red static erupted to the south. It was a hemisphere, and the nimbus of shadows wrapped around it was very much indicative of Omicron's force bubbles. This one was big enough to cover the city. Only one such generator existed, we'd dug it out of the salt mine near Halite last ye
ar. I'd thought they'd put it in storage. It took a godawful amount of power to run.