by Gareth Lewis
*
The pain in his head, when he regained his senses, drew a resigned sigh rather than a groan. This is one habit I don't want to develop, he thought to the world at large.
Hardly your most pressing concern, Detective Crawford. The thought was more precise than Lydia's, the force behind it enhanced by both the incompatible mind, and the pulsing of his head.
Taking in the sparse furnishings, the room brought to mind the one Lydia had described, and he allowed himself a sliver of hope he'd been brought to the same place. Markham, you're a pain somewhere else. I'll work my way down there soon.
Please don't rush on my account. His tone seemed controlled, with an undercurrent of irritation.
Okay. Jack remained seated, rubbing the sides of his head. They didn't consider him enough of a threat to consider cuffing. They'd removed his padded suit, and searched him for weapons, although they'd left the modified baffler on his belt, likely a sign of disdain for the limited protection it would afford him against their power. Their mistake.
Markham soon tired of waiting, and a couple of thugs, one the psykin who'd knocked Jack out, twice, entered and helped him roughly to his feet. They escorted him to where Markham held court amongst a couple of dozen flunkies, none of whom looked especially friendly towards Jack.
Looking much the same as always, Markham's clean, precise, clothes stood in marked contrast to the scruffier style of his followers. His head clear of hair, his penetrating eyes followed Jack.
The room appeared to be an abandoned storeroom, the scent of dust more pronounced out here, with a few scattered boxes and crates seeing use as seating. Markham treated his like a throne.
Lydia's were the only eyes which appeared glad to see him, peering above the gag. She sat on a simple chair in the far corner, hands behind her, still presumably cuffed. Her gaze held a combination of relief and concern, but he couldn't hear her thoughts. She was probably shielded.
"You actually managed to shut her up," said Jack.
Lydia's gaze turned to irritation. Her shielding was apparently dropped at this point, and she thought at him. Well done on getting captured so efficiently.
I just couldn't stay away from you, he responded.
Next time, please try.
Next time? You're such an optimist.
If I may interrupt this lover's tiff, thought Markham, disdaining speech. I assume, since you tried ambushing my people, you know why you're here?
"You want the back-up psi-tech cache," Jack said in a flat tone.
Correct. It's one of the few potential hurdles to our continued freedom.
"Or a valuable tool for you to control other telepaths."
Markham's indifferent gaze turned harder. We don't enslave our own, don't limit how much they can interact with society at large, or shove them in the oh-so-pretty ghettoes.
No, thought Lydia. You just target them with terrorist attacks, then kidnap and try to get them to join your cult.
His gaze swept to her, softening to an aloof patience. A few more years and you won't be so quick to ignore the bars of your cage. Or so ignorant as to believe you can ever actually trust one of them so deeply. Especially a Spikebreaker. He turned to regard Jack as he spat the word, slang for SPI officers. You do know that's why you're still alive?
"Our closeness leaves me more vulnerable to her probing."
Markham turned back to Lydia, disappointment, and what might have been betrayal, in his gaze. Did you believe you could keep something like that secret? In the Hive? Even telepathic couples never lower their defences that far, that soon. The little questions which arise in every new relationship, the minor doubts and insecurities, no longer get to hide in your head. Fear of being hurt takes over, so you pushed each other away, becoming embittered and trapped together. If I hadn't shielded your frustrations from the others, the entire Hive would have picked up on it. But you gave me an opportunity. He turned back to Jack.
"Well, since Lydia doesn't seem to be cooperating," said Jack, his tone unjustifiably light, "and you must know I'm not going to be helping you with whatever it is you're trying to achieve, I suppose you'll be wanting to try taking the information by force."
What we're going to achieve, Markham thought in a heavy, even tone, is our freedom from...
"Whatever. Can we skip to the bit about me?"
Markham's gaze turned cold. Very well. We shall, as you say, take the information by force. I don't imagine we'll leave much of your mind, so you should say anything you have to say now.
Jack's eyes met Lydia's.
Jack, she thought, but Markham cut her off.
There is of course an alternative. Markham stared at Lydia, and she reluctantly met his gaze. I know that despite all the bitterness and hate you still care for each other. Look at the way he charged in alone to try rescuing you. The only way he can survive the process is if you help us gain access to his mind. You know you could do this without damaging him.
"Don't," said Jack.
Lydia met his gaze, her indecision apparent.
Markham didn't turn his eyes from Lydia. Yes, it'll make you one of us, and your dream of something resembling a normal life, and believe me a dream is all it is, will be lost. But we can build a better society, one in which we're not forced to be slaves to these apes.
Lydia's gaze returned to Markham. It seemed less conflicted.
Seeming to realize his approach was too harsh, Markham's tone changed. You need to decide how much you're willing to sacrifice for him.
Uncertainty returned as she met Jack's gaze, and he could almost see her thoughts, even if he couldn't hear them. Don't, he sent at her, calm and assured.
Trust slowly replaced the uncertainty, and she glanced back at Markham.
With a resigned sigh, Markham returned his attention to Jack.
Lydia met Jack's gaze again, and he felt her presence in his head, a comforting warmth.
Please do one thing for me, he thought.
What?
Turn off! Stay out of my mind, don't watch.
He held her gaze, but couldn’t be sure she'd gotten the message. Her mind retreated, though, and she glanced away.
Jack turned back to silently regard Markham.
Without another word or thought, they began, and he felt the combined minds of numerous telepaths pushing against his defences.
Markham gave an indifferent glance at the strained beeping of the baffler at Jack's belt. Even altered to withstand significantly more force than normal, it wouldn't hold out much longer. He kept his defences strong for the few moments he had the baffler supporting him. It finally failed with a loud beep. Followed by the screams of every active telepath, as the screamer he'd built into it was triggered.
He staggered slightly, released from the force arrayed against him.
Five of them remained standing. Markham's kinetics. They seemed stunned, by more than just what had happened. Had they been linked to the telepaths? Or had Markham exerted a degree of control over them? That could've been useful to know earlier.
The one with a tattooed head stood behind him, and recovered a moment after Jack. Not fast enough to stop the punch which floored him. And reignited the pain in Jack's bruised shoulder. The others weren't as close, so he glanced at Lydia.
She'd understood his message, still sat bound to the chair, awake and alert. More so than the remaining kinetics were after she blasted their minds.
The only two awake in the room, their eyes found each other.
What would you have done if he'd taken the baffler from you?
Kept him talking until the timer went off. Of course, I've no idea how long I was out when they brought me here, so I don't know how long was left, but... He shrugged. Any more of them about?
Lydia shook her head. I can't sense any, and I doubt they'd be hiding from other telepaths.
Their gazes locked for a moment, and the words he'd spoken earlier tried to pop into his mind. He hastily suppressed them, but the uncertain look
in Lydia's eyes told him she'd, if not spotted them, probably been considering them.
Glancing away, confused and unable to consider his thoughts in private, he found a handset on one of the kinetics.
Untie me, she thought.
As soon as I've called in back-up. His mind tensed, keeping his thoughts blank. He didn't want a stray thought setting them back down that path.
Lydia seemed to reach the same conclusion, her mind withdrawing as she waited silently until he'd finished. Free me.
He turned back to regard her, her eyes seeming as uncomfortable with the comfortable détente as he felt. Things seemed to be getting a bit too mawkish for his tastes. I'm not sure I want to. You were willing to let them destroy my mind.
Shocked indignation swept over him. You told me to. I trusted that you had a plan.
You didn't know that I did, though.
She stopped, staring at his faint grin. This isn't funny?
He looked at her, bound and glaring. It is a little bit.
No, funny is me co-opting your bladder control during roll-call. Now release me.
You can't do that. He hoped. Okay, just one picture. He held up the handset.
Don't you dare! Rocking forward, she reached her feet, chair held behind her as she waddled towards him, bent double.
Jack danced away. "C'mon, just one little memento."
Stand still and I'll give you a memento.
"That would be assaulting a police officer."
I'm already cuffed. What've I got to lose?
"Your dignity, if you continue waddling."
She sat back down. I lost that when we first went out. Truce? The word seemed almost a threat.
The handset dropped to his side, unused, as their gazes met with an uncertain heat. He sighed. Sure.
Good.
Right. He began searching bodies for keys to the cuffs, their eyes meeting again in passing. Hate you.
Hate you more.
###
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Other titles by Gareth Lewis:
Allegiances
Blade Sworn
Coral Throne
Glyphmaster
Glyphpunk
Glyphwar
Grey Engines
Grey Enigmas
Monstrum Ex Machina
Shadows of the Heavens
Song of Thunder
Soul Food
Stoneweaver
Tales of the Thief-City
The Monster in the Mirror
The Sin of Hope
To Hunt Monsters