The Green Memory of Fear

by B. A. Chepaitis

  She nodded. “It’s an art I know. Tree identification.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “You are an empath, aren’t you?”

  That was unexpected. “I am,” she admitted, “Does that frighten you?”

  He shrugged. “No. But this book I read, it said empaths know things by smell. Is that true?”

  Jaguar couldn’t help but laugh. She knew the book he meant. It was a religious polemic against the evils of the empathic arts. It said that empaths were low as dogs and like dogs they knew things through their sense of smell.

  “Not unless we practice that way of knowing things,” she said. “We do know things without words, though. In the same way a cat or dog will know something without words, by the energy they sense.”

  He considered this. “The mint—that’s an empath thing?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I use it when I’m dealing with prisoners. To stay safe from their shadow.”

  “It’s to keep me safe from him, isn’t it?”

  She nodded.

  He sighed. “Are you gonna read my mind?” he asked.

  “Not unless you want me to,” she said. “Empaths actually do something a little different, anyway. We like to know how people are feeling and what they experience. Not just what they’re thinking. “

  He twisted his face around. “He’s a vampire, y’know,” was his next comment. “Everyone thinks that’s like some fantasy I have. Like my nightmares. But it’s not. It’s real.”

  Beating in his veins, she heard it again. Didn’t have to listen hard because it was all over him.

  I won’t become him won’t let myself become what he is

  “I know what he is,” Jaguar said, keeping her voice even.

  He didn’t look at her, but his hand stopped in its motion. “You believe me,” he said.

  “I don’t have to,” she said. “I know it for myself.”

  “I don’t want to become one.”

  “You won’t. I won’t let it happen.”

  His hand stopped, lay still against the wood. “You can help me?” he whispered.

  “I can. Let’s get through the trial, then I’ll explain it to you.”

  Relief shuddered through him, from his shoulders down. “Okay,” he said.

  “Put some music on. I haven’t heard any good music since I left the Planetoid.”

  She found herself an old box to sit on and relaxed, letting the afternoon waste itself around them. He would testify tomorrow, and before then, they needed whatever peace of mind they could grab.

  Chapter 9

  The taped interview rolled, and all eyes stayed on it. Daro spoke carefully, calmly, about his sessions with Dr. Senci. How the sexual interaction began, with Dr. Senci telling him it was a way to relax, and relaxing would make the nightmares go away. Daro said he recorded a session because he didn’t think it was right and he wanted to tell his mother, but it was hard to talk about that kind of stuff to someone like your mother. Just giving her the voxchip would be easier. She always asked what they did in sessions, anyway.

  The lawyer asked how he made the tape, and he explained about his earchip, and how he’d reversed the panel to get it to record. His face grew animated as he explained, but clouded over when he was asked about his nightmares. He said quietly, “I had nightmares about vampires.”

  And did he think Dr. Senci was a vampire, the lawyer asked.

  Daro shrugged. “I don’t know what he is, but I don’t like him.”

  A good close.

  The judges finished the notes they were making and then requested Daro’s presence at the bench. He walked up, took his oath, took a seat.

  Dr. Bannur cleared his throat. “Daro,” he said, “how old are you?”

  “Twelve last month.”

  “I see. Now what do you suppose happened to the recording you made?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe somebody did something to it.”

  “Do you think so?”

  Daro turned back and looked at his law guardian, who had to keep herself from leading him in any way. “Just answer the question, Daro,” she said.

  “Don’t work this too hard, Daro,” Jaguar said quietly to herself. She reached out to him, making light empathic contact, just enough to send some reassurance.

  As soon as she did, it hit her.

  Like a wave—a shock wave of sound pouring through her, a voice booming in her head.

  You are mine I made you mine you can’t escape. You are mine. You are mine. You are mine.

  She brought a hand up to her head. Dr. Senci, speaking in Daro. He’d gotten in—how? Because she made contact? She immediately closed and looked to the judges, who were waiting for Daro to speak. Clara, whose eyes were on the judges. Daro’s parents who sat carefully composed, a still life.

  But Daro couldn’t speak. He was choking, trying for words but his eyes were wide from pressure inside his skull. His voice spiraled into a high-pitched whine.

  Won’t become him won’t let him become me can’t help me help me help me.

  She had to do something. She held a hand up and out toward him, palm out, and focused her energy.

  Daro, let go. Easy. I’ll protect you.

  But he couldn’t hear her. Not anymore. Senci had him.

  Stay with the boy, One Bird said. Stay clear of Senci, they all said. But she couldn’t do both. To contact Daro was to find Senci. To find Senci was to be trapped. And since she couldn’t make it better, she’d take her fall-back position and make it worse.

  She turned her awareness away from Daro, directed it all to Dr. Senci. She’d distract him, take him out of Daro’s mind and into hers. He was across the aisle, across the room, and near enough to laugh down the back of her neck. She felt his attention move to her. Daro’s choking words subsided into coughing.

  The judges fretted. “Is he ill?” One of them asked.

  Clara stood. “Could he have a glass of water?”

  A judge nodded, and the bailiff brought one over to him. Daro lifted it, took a sip.

  Jaguar kept her awareness around Dr. Senci, surrounding him with it. Standing between him and the boy. She felt him push against her, and she didn’t move. He was testing her.

  Go ahead. Hit me with your best shot, buddy.

  Anything, as long as he stayed away from Daro, who could speak again, his voice a low murmur just outside her hearing. She had to stay focused on Senci so Daro could go on. She felt the push again, stood firm against it, and then felt a withdrawal.

  Dr. Senci stopped pushing, and began to pull instead.

  He was pulling her. Pulling her away from herself, draining her as if he’d pulled a plug. As if he knew how to breathe the chromosomes out of her, her soul just water flowing into him, into that empty space he seemed to be.

  You are bound to me. Bound to me. See what happens to them if you try to escape.

  Drained of energy, she couldn’t hold her ground and the connection was severed. She looked to Daro, who began to writhe in pain. His voice became a wailing cry, wild and weird in this sterile room.

  “He—he’s a vampire,” Daro keened, voice high as wind on a mountain. “He makes people do things. I don’t want to become him I won’t become him make him stop make him stop.”

  make him stop make him stop make him stop.

  Jaguar was up and out of her seat. Clara got there first, and between the two of them they lifted him from his seat and moved him out of the courtroom. His parents, white with shock, were close behind. The judges mumbled to each other and a recess was called for the rest of the day.

  * * * *

  Jaguar stayed with Daro until he fell asleep, then dragged herself back to her hotel and called Clara, who was reassuring.

  “It’s not a disaster,” she said. “Maybe just the opposite. The judges felt sorry for Daro. They gave Senci the fish eye, like, you did this to him you nasty man. You never know with judges. They can tilt either way with something like this. Besides, Senci’s got to testify tomorrow.
He’s an arrogant son of a bitch, and I know how to hang them.”

  “I’ll bet you do,” Jaguar said. Then, “Clara, I want you to stay in my room tonight.”

  Clara laughed. “Listen, you’re a pretty woman and all, but I’m not wired that way.”

  “Dammit, I’m not joking. I want to keep an eye on you.”

  As if, she thought, that made any difference. She couldn’t protect Daro and he was in the room with her. Still, she valued the illusion of control. Needed it desperately tonight.

  “You mean that, don’t you?”

  “People drop dead around this case,” Jaguar said. “Equipment fails. Evidence dissipates itself. If that’s about to happen to you, I want to watch. So if you won’t come here, I’ll park my ass on your doorstep. Got a preference?”

  Clara laughed. “Okay. Tell you what. I’ll pack up my stuff and you meet me here. There’s a great Indian restaurant around the corner. We’ll treat ourselves like real people, then go back to your hotel and get drunk.”

  “See you in twenty,” Jaguar said.

  Once she was dressed she opted for a cab, which dropped her at a U-shaped apartment building that stood with its concave side facing another building exactly like it. In between the two was a courtyard with gardens and cobblestone walks, a fountain, benches, tables with umbrellas all around it. There was a replica of these buildings on the Planetoid, not too far from the Teacher’s offices. It almost made her feel at home.

  She walked to the front entrance. Clara was supposed to be waiting for her. A security guard sat just inside the front door, staring at her. She didn’t want to hang around making him nervous so she made a motion as if she was pulling out a swipe card to get in.

  He nodded, watched her. She moved her hand over the swipe patch, hoping it would give. She had a gift for mucking with technology, and was particularly good with a lock. She used to let herself in to Alex’s building that way, before he relented and gave her a key.

  The door opened. She waved as she strolled past the guard, took the elevator up to the 12th floor. She was about to knock on Clara’s door when she heard laughter that twisted into a booming sound. Large, and hollow and cold, it rolled through her like thunder.

  She waited for it to subside. Waited more for what might happen next. Nothing did.

  She put her hand on Clara’s door and slipped the lock, walked inside and stood there, feeling emptiness.

  “Clara?” she asked. Nobody answered.

  The living room window was open and she went to it, but she didn’t look down. Not yet.

  “Clara?” she asked again. More silence. No, she thought. No. This is not acceptable. “Clara, where the fuck are you?” she shouted.

  She could hear water bubbling in the fountain twelve stories down. She looked out the window, and down.

  Down to the rose bushes in the courtyard, bursting with red blooms.

  Down to the cobblestones, and the flower of a woman’s body, pouring red over the ground.

  Clara’s body, broken on the stones.

  “Clara,” she whispered. “Clara.”

  * * * *

  Jaguar spent the rest of the night answering questions. The police. The Provincial Attorney’s office. More police. Forms and statements and reports. She drank too much coffee and it made her veins buzz with adrenalin. She had to ID the body before it went to the morgue, then sit at Clara’s table and answer more questions and more.

  After she’d told her story for the tenth time she eyed the cops coldly. “Look,” she said, “Arrest me, or let me go. And while you’re making up your minds, get me a telecom. I want to call my Supervisor on Planetoid 3 and report this.”

  A homicide detective pulled the cops away from her. Someone put a telecom on the table next to her. She stared at it, calculated what time it would be where Alex was. He’d be at home. Or not at home. But he wouldn’t be at his office.

  She punched in his code and listened to his message tell her he wasn’t home. When it was done she said, “Neither am I. Do me a favor. When you get home call this number.” She gave Clara’s telecom code. “A homicide cop will answer. His name’s Harrison. Explain to him what I’m doing here and why, in all likelihood, I’m not a murderer. Ta ta.”

  She pushed the telecom away. An officer came over and stood near her while a multitude of officials invaded the remnants of Clara’s privacy. Forensics, crime scene specialists, cops and more cops. Harrison slapped a piece of paper on the table.

  “What do you make of that?” he asked.

  She considered a variety of rude responses and discarded them. She looked at the paper, but he wouldn’t let her touch it.

  It was an old take-out menu, written over in red lipstick.

  THIS CASE IS FUCKED WAS FROM THE START I WON’T BECOME HIM TELL JAGUAR SHE KNOWS NO TIME

  And the name. Clara.

  She stared blankly up at the officer. “Where’d you find it?” she asked.

  “In the bathroom. Stuffed behind the toilet.”

  Jaguar felt sinking sorrow. Clara. The last moments of her life spent scratching out messages in lipstick, hiding in a bathroom. Jaguar, moving her hand closer to the paper, could feel the terror of it, the shock of approaching death, the attempt to drive it away.

  “Now what do you suppose she meant?” Harrison asked.

  Jaguar lowered her face into her hands. She wouldn’t shed tears in front of this man.

  “She says tell Jaguar. Says Jaguar knows. So what do you know?” Harrison demanded

  “Not a fucking thing,” she said through her hands. “If I did, Clara wouldn’t be dead.”

  “Yeah,” the officer said, “Right.”

  Jaguar crossed her arms on the table and lowered her head. Harrison called out, “Hey, Joe. Make some more coffee. The lady’s tired, and it looks like we’re gonna be here for awhile.”

  * * * *

  He was right. They kept her there for hours, until the telecom buzzed and Harrison took it out of the room. When he returned, he handed it to Jaguar, and she saw Alex’s face, looking ominous.

  “I’m pulling you off the assignment, Dr. Addams,” he said. “I want you back here on the next shuttle.”

  She resisted the urge to curse like a sailor. Instead, she stayed formal. “That would be an egregious error, Supervisor,” she said, speaking crisply. Nothing sounded better to her than leaving this city, this country, this planet, but she couldn’t. He knew that. “The job’s not done. I stay until the trial’s over. It’s protocol.”

  “Protocol be damned. You’re not even close to safe and you can’t stay there.”

  “I have to. Your emotions are clouding your judgment.”

  He glowered at her. “Dr. Addams, I have never—“

  “—Never slept with one of your Teachers before,” she cut in. Behind her, Harrison coughed loudly. She turned and showed him a grin.

  Alex was silent. The shot hit home. She went subvocal.

  If you want to court me, you have to court who I am, not what you’re afraid will happen to me.

  He pulled himself away, glowered some more, then smoothed his face.

  “Okay,” he said. “You’re right. I apologize.”

  She felt her shoulders relax. Off one cliff, and on to the next. “Can you get these cops off my back?” she asked.

  “Already done. I had a talk with them.” He went subvocal again.

  Can they get Senci for Clara?

  Not a chance. He’s wired until the trial’s over. The perfect alibi.

  He offered a few appropriate responses, then returned to speaking out loud. “What’s next for you?”

  “Back to my hotel. Tomorrow—or I guess it’s already today—see what the legal team says. I haven’t got a clue how they’ll handle it.”

  “I’m having some of these gentlemen park their asses outside your room until the trial’s over.”

  “Alex, it won’t—

  “—It might. And I’ll be watching, too. All night long. In the me
antime, don’t try anything on your own. If it becomes necessary to take,” he paused, searching for a word, “to take unusual action, get in touch with me first. You don’t go this alone, is that clear?”

  “Abundantly,” she said.

  “Good. Get through this with Daro, then haul ass back here. We’ll figure something out.”

  “Alex, listen,” she said. “I don’t think I’m in danger—at least, not the same kind Clara was. I think—I think he wants me alive.”

  Alex shuddered. That was probably the most horrid piece of good news he’d ever heard. He eyed her. “What makes you think that?”

  “You know,” she said, and raised a hand in the gesture of the empath. She had clear-seeing as one of her arts. She’d sensed this.

  “All the more reason to stay away from him. And do me a favor. Remember how—how precious you are. In my absence, treat yourself that way.”

  Before she could respond, he nodded once, and was gone. But already she sensed his watching, like hands shielding an injured bird from harm. She sighed. He couldn’t keep that up forever, but she was glad of it for now.

  Jaguar looked up at Harrison, who was torn between juicy interest and bewilderment. She pressed her hands on the table and stood. On her way out she patted him on the shoulder. He seemed to need it.

  * * * *

  When she got back to her hotel and laid her body down, she found it could no longer remember the sleep command. She tossed her way through a few hours of fitful half-dreams, then got out of bed and spent the early morning with Daro and his family, trying to offer them reassurances she didn’t have. While she was with them, they got a call from the Prosecution’s office telling them the last day of testimony was postponed until tomorrow.

  Jaguar got on the phone for particulars and learned the assistant prosecutor was nervous, not happy about their prospects. He’d met the judges in chambers an hour ago, and they interviewed Senci, with all lawyers present.

  “Xipe totec,” Jaguar hissed. “What the hell did he say for himself?”

  “Everything the judges wanted to hear, and then some. It’s not looking good.” But they’d soldier on. Court tomorrow morning, bright and early.

  Somehow the rest of the day became evening. She called Alex and filled him in. He said he’d continue to watch, and she felt reassured knowing that. Alex, One Bird and Jake, they’d all be doing what they could, if anyone could do anything against the monster they faced.