by Clara Ward
“Maybe not.” Sarah looked down and away. “As a teenager, I sometimes thought the most useful thing I could do would be to kill myself and destroy any trace of my DNA. Would you prefer that in the future?”
James met Sarah’s eyes without thinking when she looked up. He was torn between her pain, pain he might be partly responsible for if he was her father, and the thought that she’d wanted to destroy her valuable genome.
“Now that I know there are other teeks, I think it’s more useful that I’m alive. There must be others like me, and if so—you might need me after all.”
Was she talking to him? No, it must be to Wang. But she was looking at him, as if he and Wang were on the same side, but he hardly knew Wang.
There was silence for a moment, then Yu broke in abruptly with, “Dr. Morton, I can’t find anything wrong. Do you want to take some samples and run your own tests?” James rushed to do his part and leave.
Shortly after running Tom’s samples, but well before James had bothered to call Yu or Wang, Alak knocked gently at the lab door and showed himself in. He waited in respectful silence as James finished typing in results, but the unscheduled visit made James twitch.
“Good to see you, Alak.”
“We haven’t visited for a while. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” James lied. There was a long pause.
“May I sit down?” Alak gestured toward the one swivel chair. His overloaded briefcase made the gesturing arm droop strangely, and James could see Alak was already sweating, though it was well before noon.
“Of course,” James replied, going to join the man by his desk. This meant he was in for several minutes of small talk. He braced himself to play along. Finally the real subject was broached.
“I hear,” said Alak, “That Dr. Yu called you to examine Tanit last night.”
James tapped his foot and crossed the opposite leg in the beat it took to connect “Tanit” to “Tom”. “Yes, I did some DNA and protein expression blood work on him. Nothing unusual turned up. We should probably arrange a brain scan.”
“Did Tanit seem to be very familiar with Dr. Yu or Wang?”
“Uh, no.” James answered. Then as his own questions about the Chinatown teeps took hold, “Anything in particular?”
“No, nothing. You and Dr. Yu, being doctors, must consult occasionally. And perhaps Wang has some connection to Tom?”
“I was surprised that Yu called me, and I was told Reggie called Wang. He still had his card from immigration.”
“Oh, of course. I’m very interested in this whole occurrence. Perhaps you could confer with me from time to time. Keep me informed as to Dr. Yu’s work, as well as your own.”
“Of course.” James wondered if he was being asked to spy on Wang or if he was under suspicion himself. Probably both, but either way he might as well appear cooperative. “I have the new offer from Minerva to give you.”
As James handed across the stiff manila envelope, he continued, “They’ve asked me to reply within two weeks. I hope that will also be enough time to find separate lab space for Robert.”
James hadn’t really expected Alak to show any reaction. The bureaucrat merely raised his eyebrows and waited for James to continue. “I’m willing to assist as his advisor, of course, but I can’t pursue my own work adequately with him always interrupting.”
“He says you won’t give him passwords for any of your files, so his only access to data is by asking you.”
For Alak the statement was almost confrontational, and it confirmed he was communicating with Robert. Was that an accidental slip? More likely, Alak was acknowledging that James was watched, which was of course why James wanted Robert out.
“Once Robert has his own secure system, I’ll give him copies of the files he needs.”
“He’s cleared for everything you know.”
James cringed inwardly. He’d usually enjoyed the lax security among telepaths in Thailand, but now that another teep knew genetics, was almost at a level to help James with his classified investigations, he longed to protect his records. They were like a diary he’d never expected anyone else to read. He wanted to bring points forward for discussion at his own pace, not have someone snoop them out at will.
“I offered to work with him, even teach him, but my agreement when I came here promised complete control of my own lab and equipment. The computer system here is part of my equipment. I will properly share data with Robert, as soon as he is separately equipped to study it safely.”
Alak did not answer, but with the Minerva envelope in hand and a tight smile fixed on his face, he nodded and left.
James knew he hadn’t handled the negotiation as smoothly as possible. In the past he’d had a surprisingly cordial relationship with the Thai government, and with Alak as well. Was it just him, or was there increased tension throughout the teep community? Alak had been asking about Yu and Wang, and it appeared Tom had been working with some outside force.
A shiver shook James’ head, neck, shoulder, and on down. The notes, the offers from Minerva, whatever Davies was maneuvering, it was too much like the cocoon of plotting he’d left the United States to escape. Maybe Thailand was too involved after all. Could he work someplace else? If he took a research position well distanced from the intrigues of teeps and teeks would the forces involved let him go? The thought turned his frustration into something colder and closer to fear. He stepped away from all those thought and back to his computer and its analysis.
May 27, 2025 – Bangkok, Thailand
In only a few days Robert was moved into a “newly available” space down the hall and James raced contentedly through his publishable work. He had a lot of catching up to do. Then came a knock on his lab door. He ignored it. Another knock, and Reggie and Sarah peeked in.
“You said I could come by sometime,” Reggie said, “To find out more about my genotype?”
James wanted to say he was too busy, but that would just create another interruption some other day. So he said, “Fine, but I can’t talk long.”
He pulled up Reggie’s data on the display by his server. There were currently no chairs nearby, and James hoped standing would keep the visit short. “Let’s see, you have the same potential schizophrenia correlate as Sarah. None of the cancer related risks. This segment underlies certain visual thinking abilities. This one correlates with some measures of creativity; the popular press calls it the “entrepreneur gene.” I haven’t found anything to explain your ability to spot telepaths. Searching the literature for genetic links to processing body language turned up nothing. No unique mutations. No variations on the telepathy sequence. Basically, unless we find someone else with your ability, it’s going to be hard to even look for a genetic link. Knowing of the possibility though, we might experiment with training programs.”
“Any new insights about Tom?”
James flashed back to the uncomfortable scene in the Chinatown room. Was that why Reggie and Sarah had stopped by today? “Unfortunately, no. I didn’t expect to find anything genetic. But I made arrangements for an MRI and an fMRI to be done. Gave Robert a chance to train in another lab while surreptitiously adding telepathy to the supposedly silent part of a listening task.”
“Huh?” asked Sarah.
“MRI, magnetic resonance imaging? It’s a way to check for trauma in the brain.” Sarah stared at him blankly, frowning slightly and wrinkling her forehead. He almost felt sorry for her. “Didn’t find any. The fMRI checks brain activity during certain tasks. We’d run a test before with telepaths using regular speech for one part and telepathy for another, and Broca’s area, which processes speech, usually lights up for both. Tom’s brain is not responding to telepathy. Tells us almost nothing except that he’s not faking.”
James watched Sarah’s reaction, remembering how Lisa had suggested that Sarah faked her lack of telepathy. Sarah just continued to frown, no unusual reaction that James could detect. Maybe they should let Robert run another MRI any
way, just to keep him busy.
“Nothing else showed up?” Sarah asked.
“There was constant activity in the primary somatosensory cortex, which usually indicates touch. But Tom said he’d been itchy since, well, since what happened. Anyone else ever feel itchy after you teeked them?”
“No. I’ve done it to myself lots of times and never felt itchy. I did Howard’s hand once, we could ask him, but he probably would have mentioned it.”
“It’s probably psychosomatic. Psychosomatic pain, or in this case itchiness, could trigger detectable brain activity.”
“Is Tom getting any help?” Sarah asked. She was dragging a chair from across the room. “His whole life, his work and contacts, were built around being a telepath. And if he’s having psychosomatic symptoms, maybe he needs some kind of counseling.”
James sighed as Sarah plopped down in the chair and began rubbing her hands as if she was cold. “Let the punishment fit the crime. But anyway, he’s part of that whole Chinatown community. Not my place to get involved.”
“Is that why we were taken to Chinatown? What was going on there?” Reggie asked.
James wished he hadn’t mentioned it. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything. Just as telepaths are their own community within Bangkok, the Chinatown teeps have their own core community. I don’t think they want farangs involved.”
“Farangs?”
“Foreigners, us. Really, I’m not sure they want Thai teeps of non-Chinese decent either, but only a couple exist. Both have American ancestry.”
“Do you think they supported Tom trying to sell Sarah to the Chinese?”
“He failed. Probably no one more competent was interested.”
“What about the Johnsons? Do you think we can trust them?”
“What do you mean ‘trust?’ They’re not part of the Chinatown group, since Ida married Samuel. He’s still pretty tight with the government, though I think he tries to stay out of things now that he’s retired. They’ve always been exceptionally kind to me.”
“Yeah,” Sarah nodded. “They gave me a place to live and now they’re paying for me to go to Chiang Mai with Emma. I don’t know what I can do to repay them.”
“They probably think they’ve adopted you. Samuel speaks of us all as family. Genetically, that’s not too far off.”
“Have you checked? Has someone tried to trace the genealogy?”
“Of course they’ve tried. But the U.S. government got to it first. There are some disadvantages to studying all this from Thailand.”
“If you did that test on me, that fMRI thing, could you tell why I don’t hear telepathically?”
James smiled despite himself. Sarah seemed so innocent as she pursued her own puzzle, seeming ignorant of the players around her. “Maybe. We could see if and where there’s brain activity in response to telepathy. Maybe when Robert’s had a little more training he could design a study.”
Sarah’s hand rubbing had turned into hand ringing, and James caught himself watching for symmetry in her movements. He said, “You realize, without a major breakthrough in neuroscience, identifying the problem won’t mean we can fix it.”
Sarah shivered visibly and wrinkled her nose, “I’m not sure I’d want it fixed. No offense?”
Not knowing what to say to that, James retreated back to explaining Reggie’s genome.
That evening, James locked the lab up early. His mind had refused to seal around any project since Sarah’s visit, so he was going to pick up a bowl of noodles on the way home and maybe even clean his apartment tonight. That should be enough to bore him into one line of inquiry or another.
No sooner was he outside the building than a female voice called out, “James, is this a better time for us to grab a bite?”
The woman was young and wearing a black silk blouse that settled smoothly on the lace of her underclothing. Out of context, it took him a moment to identify her as Robert’s sister, Lisa. By then, she had hurried to his side and stood inches from his elbow, catching her breath in little gasps.
“Well, I was just going to grab some noodles—“
“That would be great!”
James had meant to say he was taking them home and needed to clean his apartment. But he’d been around just enough women to realize this one had cut him off on purpose, and he was now obliged to buy her dinner. At least noodles would be quick.
He took her to the noodle shop near his home and instantly regretted it. Despite the fact that he bought noodles there at least once a week, alone, without any sign of impropriety, the matronly shop woman gave him a disapproving look today. As they sat down to wait, James was sure the other diners thought the same. Seeing a young Asian woman with a slightly older white man, people in Bangkok assumed he wanted her body and she wanted his money. What he really wanted was to be done with the meal already.
“So, how’s your work going?” Lisa asked.
“Fine.”
“Any exciting new projects?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary.”
“What happened to Tom was ordinary?”
“We can’t discuss that here.” James tapped his knee as he watched the seconds click by on a wall clock. After fifteen seconds, he switched to tapping the other knee.
“What about outside of work?” she asked.
“Nothing. I was going to clean my apartment.”
“But what do you do for fun?”
“I like my work.”
“But don’t you have any hobbies?”
“No.”
“Have you ever tried karate?”
James shook his head, then tried to show polite interest as Lisa talked at length about the benefits of karate. At least she’d stopped questioning him. While speaking, Lisa used her hands and arms, always with calm restraint, but it was enough to show she had muscle. The skin on her arms, neck, and face was smooth and perfect. James tried not to look down at the skin visible above, and somewhat through, her sheer blouse. If this girl was flirting at him, it was a very generous offer.
However, she was much too young, her brother worked with James, and aside from her body and the fact she was a telepath, he had no reason to like her. A forward leaning gesture gave him a direct view of the lace camisole beneath her blouse. For a moment he thought a nice body and not having to hear unintended thoughts might be a better offer than he could pass up, but then she spoke.
“Have you seen Sarah much since, well, you know?”
James had no idea how the conversation had turned. “Not much. A couple times.”
“What do you think of her?”
Lisa was younger than Sarah, and Sarah was young enough to be his daughter, though just barely. It made James feel old in a way he hadn’t before.
“I don’t know.” James glanced around, “We can’t talk about this here either.”
“Next time you’ll have to take me someplace where we can talk.”
James shrugged that off with false good humor.
Chapter 19
June 2-3, 2025 – Chiang Mai, Thailand
Sarah tensed as she approached the marble counter at the hotel in Chiang Mai. A discreet white on black sign said “check-in” beneath more graceful looking Thai script. The whole room was smooth, like a non-stick pan. Maybe they didn’t want anyone sticking around.
“Excuse me,” Sarah said as she rested her fingers on the rounded, chill counter.
“Yes?”
“We have a room for two reserved under Johnson?”
“Oh yes, here it is, room 107.”
“Well, we had a friend join us, and we were wondering if we could get an extra bed brought in?”
“107 has two queen size beds. I could move you to 105, which has a king and a twin.”
“Oh, well, we’d actually like three separate beds, if that’s possible.”
Sarah glanced back to where Aliana and Emma stood, sure she saw Aliana raise an eyebrows at that. Heat flooded Sarah’s face and neck. She looked forward, glad he
r friends were behind her where they couldn’t see. She should have followed Emma’s advice and talked to Aliana weeks ago.
“I can send up a roll away to 107, but they’re mostly used for small children.”
“Oh, that would be fine. We’re not fussy.”
Sarah filled out paperwork, took the translucent plastic key card, and headed to the elevator without consulting Emma or Aliana.
It was ten o’clock that night when the three returned to their hotel. After the muggy heat and noise outside, the room seemed cool and peaceful.
Sarah laid back on the roll away bed and stretched her legs up into the air. She circled her feet, heavy like water balloons after stomping around all day. Earlier they’d climbed up to Wat Doi Suthep, a temple with a commanding, tranquil view. After a self-guided tour, the three of them found shade by a retaining wall, and counted the old city roofs like properties on a Monopoly board. Emma pointed excitedly at the almost intact stone walls surrounding the old city, and somehow they agreed to walk the full circuit. By the longest gap in the wall they’d found a not-too-touristy restaurant with outdoor seating and very relaxed service. Then they’d finished the loop and explored a few unintended detours. It hadn’t been a truly strenuous day, just more walking than Sarah was used to. Her feet were still piked above her off the bed when the phone rang, but Aliana was washing her face and Emma was poking through luggage, so Sarah swung over to answer.
A barrage of rapid, frantic words slammed through the earpiece, reminding her why she hadn’t replaced her cell phone.
“Sarah, I’m so glad I reached you. I’ve been trying for an hour. You have to get out of there. They’ve sent someone, I think to kill you. They know your hotel room, but also think they can track you though someone you’re traveling with. She’s apparently easy to hear, if you know what I mean. I swear I had nothing to do with this. I would do anything to protect you. I don’t think they know that, or I wouldn’t have found out at all. But you must know why they’re after you, and they probably thought that I, being one too, might object, which of course I do, but I tried not to make too much of a fuss, so they wouldn’t suspect I’d warn you—“