by Robin Banks
“Will you stop talking like this?”
“No. I’ve had about enough of being the guy who just sits around listening to third parties discussing the safety of his wife and can’t do a damn thing about it. Now I can. If I need to stay out of the way while you’re out in public, I will. If I need to stop bringing my problems home, I will. I will do whatever I can to keep you safe. Even if it means not being with you.”
Gwen’s eyes fill up, then she glances at Marcus and steels herself. “It seems that today you’re full of ultimatums for me.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I will see you at home. I will. Please. Let’s try this for now. Until I have my shit together. Ok?”
Gwen swallows. “Ok.” She turns to Marcus. “Anything else?”
“If I cannot use long-range weapons, I will need to be closer to you."
“Of course. Delightful. What will this entail?”
“I should move into your office, particularly if you have any visitors. This last event has proven that even past knowledge of a person is no reassurance.”
“Yay. Let’s be paranoid about everyone.”
“I should move my quarters closer to yours.”
“How? There is no room.”
“I could swap rooms with Adjunct Taua. It’s not ideal, but it’s something.” He looks at me. I shrug. “As for the rest of your day, I would discourage you from entering any public areas unless you absolutely have to.”
“How very jolly. Why don’t we go all out, and put me in solitary confinement?”
Asher snaps. “Gwen, please? Don’t make light. Not today.”
“I wasn’t. That’s where we’re heading, anyway. Ok, so we try this. How do we know if it works? How long have I got to live like this?”
Marcus looks at her blankly. “Indefinitely, while the situation continues.”
“Grand. I’m going to go home now.”
When we get to the tower, Marcus immediately sets to swapping rooms with me. I’ll be on the floor below my old room, still able to provide a degree of detection, assuming that my psi-bility works. The swap means that I can’t get to the guys’ room without going past Marcus, which I can hardly do undetected. That means we won’t be able to sleep together. It’d be too damn obvious. While none of us are ashamed of our lifestyle, we don’t really want it advertised to the public. It’s not anyone else’s business.
This is going to suck, but it is what it is.
Changes at the office suck just as much. Having Marcus in Gwen’s office mean that I cannot speak to her privately without asking him to step out. Every time I do, Marcus smirks at me. I know I have no reason to, but I feel ashamed every single time.
Asher no longer calls in. We don’t see him all day long. He’s spending his days out and about and in Aiden’s workshop. He even takes his meals there. When we get home to the tower, he seems present in body only. I know he thinks he’s helping, and maybe he’s right.
Gwen no longer has those giant emotional surges she used to get around Asher. Instead, it feels like all her emotional dials are getting turned down. She doesn’t feel good and she doesn’t feel bad. Most of the time, she just doesn’t feel.
Not living in a constant emotional storm may help my psi-bility work. As someone who loves them, though, I wonder if they realize what they’re doing to each other and to themselves. I’m watching their relationship, our relationships, slowly unravel. I’m watching them come apart. And, whatever happens, I can’t allow myself to feel anything about it. I have to control my emotional state. I just have to.
August
I am sitting in my office, alternatively practicing my focus exercises and musing on how pointless everything I do seems to be, when I hear and sense a commotion down the hallway. I bolt out the door and race down towards the refectory. Turns out it’s just as well that I hurried, because when I get there Clint has pinned a chick by the neck against the wall and is about to pound on him.
“Clint! Stop! I don’t know what’s going on but you do not want to do that.”
Clint turns to me with a frown, without letting the poor guy go. “He sez bad things about Asher!”
“Maybe he did and maybe he didn’t but you’re holding him off the floor and he can’t breathe. So how about you put him down and we can discuss this? Before he dies? Whatever this is about, it’s not worth jail time.”
Clint begrudgingly drops the guy, who takes in big, gasping breaths. As soon as he’s able to talk again, I regret my intervention.
“You asshole! I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true! If PTSD McGee hadn’t totally fucked up our training, this wouldn’t be happening. He shouldn’t be teaching cadets. He’s a fucking nutjob.” The crowd of cadets around him mutters in agreement.
Clint’s just about to have at the guy again, when I step in front of him.
“What did you just say?”
“The truth. PTSD McGee messed our training up. A bunch of us have failed already. A bunch more will fail. You know what that means? If we don’t pass, we don’t graduate. No Patrol for us. Just because they decided to hire some guy who’s so mental he spends his nights crying and pissing the bed.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Is it? You’d know. You’re his little bedtime buddy, aren’t you, there to hold his hands and clean him up,” he sneers. The crowd sniggers.
I breathe and breathe and breathe. If I say anything, I will explode. I’m about to lose my shit, and if I do so will Clint. There’s a whole bunch of them and only two of us and it really won’t look good when they have to remove all their bodies from the corridor and we two have to explain what happened. I breathe until I trust myself to talk without ripping throats out.
“There’s nothing wrong with Asher’s teaching methods. Or Asher. You can check out the records for the last five years. Highest success rates ever.”
“Yeah, well, now he’s got the highest failure rate ever. Congratulations. And we’re the ones to pay for his fuck-ups. Fucking loser. Couldn’t fucking handle the Patrol, why do they think he could teach? Should have been put in an institution when he started to lose his head.”
“Have you even looked at his service records? Do you even fucking know what PTSD is?”
“I know my dad served and came back home hurt bad and he doesn’t spend his nights crying for his mommy.”
Sometimes intense emotions convey images clearly enough to tell me a whole story. This is one of those times. Normally I have enough sense to ignore them. Right now, I don’t.
“Yes, but your dad’s a raging psychopath who beat you bloody and would have carried on beating you if you’d not joined. And you might be all proud of yourself because you’re his big brave boy following in his footsteps, but actually you just wanted to join because you are so shit-scared of your own father that you’d rather get shot at by strangers.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize the enormity of what I’ve just done, and that realization makes my anger evaporate. The entire hallway has gone deadly silent. The guy’s goggling at me. His confusion turns to rage, then to revulsion.
“You… What did you just say? You fucking freak! Get out of my head!” And shoves me out of the way and walks off, followed by everyone but Clint.
I know I should say something, but I got nothing. Clint is looking at me with such a deflated expression and I should try to explain this away, but what the fuck can I say? So I just walk back to the office.
I fucked up. I fucked up so badly I can’t even begin to think about the repercussions. I feel so angry at myself that I decide to just bite the bullet.
“Gwen? We need to go and talk with the Chancellor. It’s urgent.”
“What? What happened?”
“Tell you when we get there. Don’t want to go through it twice.”
We march down the corridor, Gwen and I and the inevitable Marcus, and I really wish this could be a private moment but of course it can’t. I don’t deserve it, anyway. This kind of mistake
should be expensive.
When we get to the Chancellor’s office, his secretary must see something in my face, because she lets us straight in. He looks alarmed, too.
“No point in beating about the bush. I’ve just blown my cover. A group of cadets is now aware that I have psi-bilities. I’m positive the story will spread throughout the Academy in no time flat. Probably get bigger at each retelling, too.”
The Chancellor looks more confused than angry. “What? What the hell did you do?”
I don’t have it in me to try and make this sound good. “Ran my mouth off. It’s entirely my fault. I got angry and said stuff that clearly demonstrated that I was using psi-bilities at the time. Which I shouldn’t have done either. So it’s a double whammy: I used my psi-bility when I shouldn’t, and I blew my cover in the process. Not bad for a day’s work.”
“Is there any chance that they could have missed it? Anything we can say to cover this up?”
“Nah.” I shake my head. “I blew it. It’s blown.”
Marcus clears his throat. “Well, I’m sure I don’t need to point out that with this completely nullifies the advantages of having Citizen Taua as a security measure.”
“Yet there you go, pointing it out anyway,” snaps the Chancellor. “Professor McGee, Captain Kendall, I’d like to talk to Adjunct Taua in private.” Marcus looks as if he’s about to disagree, but something in the Chancellor’s face makes him change his mind. Gwen squeezes my arm as they file out the door.
The Chancellor closes his eyes and leans back in his throne massaging his temples. When he starts to speak, he’s remarkably calm. “Well, I didn’t see this coming. I’m sure neither did you. And I’d like to be able to refute what Captain Kendall said, but I can’t. If you truly blew your cover, this changes your position at the Academy and with regards to Professor McGee’s safety team.” He sighs and opens his eyes. “The only reason we put you in that role was to be our secret weapon.”
“I’m aware of that,” I snap. Breathe. “I’m sorry. I’m aware of how badly I’ve messed up. That’s why I came straight here to you. I don’t know what I can do.”
“I don’t know what I can do, either. Personally or professionally.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“I need to think about the issue. We need to think about the issue. Do you want to leave?”
“Me? No. Why would I?”
“Because you’re soon going to be surrounded by several hundred people who have heard grossly exaggerated rumors of your psi-bilities and will most likely be prejudiced against you. I would imagine that would be difficult under any circumstances, but with your gift…”
“Huh. I genuinely hadn’t thought of that.” I’m surprised at how calm I feel, how controlled my voice is. It’s as if I’ve walked right through a door into a worst case scenario; there’s nothing to worry about because the worst has already happened. Now I just have to deal with the consequences. I didn’t know I had it in me to be this cool. Could be that I’m too angry at myself to care about what happens to me.
“Well, you need to think about this. If you do not want to stay, there is no point in me retaining you.”
“What? You would do that?”
“Yes, I would.”
“But why?”
He blinks. “In case you haven’t noticed, you work here. And you work well. Professor McGee’s work has improved dramatically both in quantity and in presentation since you’ve been assisting her. Frankly, before you turned up, I had scant hope that she could ever be professional enough to succeed in academia. Her genius is undisputed, but her ability to use it productively… Not so much. But you somehow manage to get her to focus. That aspect of your work is unaffected. I could retain you indefinitely purely on the basis of your academic contributions; which, after all, are the official reason you were here in the first place. I am sure there would be pressures to adjust your salary accordingly, though.”
“Salary?”
“Yes. Your credit? Your current pay is in no way commensurate to the rarity of your gift, but still much higher than that of a standard Adjunct.”
I’m flabbergasted “Why would I care about the credit?”
He shakes his head at me. “Many people do, Adjunct. For many people it is a very big deal indeed. So, if it came to it, would you be willing to stay on at a reduced pay?”
“Yes! Of course I would.”
He rolls his eyes. “I would advise you to avoid carrying out any future negotiations by yourself. I fear you lack the aptitude for it.”
He gets up to a bureau and opens it to reveal a bottle of something expensive-looking. He pours us two small glasses, then sits back down. While he wasn’t talking, I’ve had the time to think about the implications of what he said. I could stay on at the Academy. I hadn’t realized how scared I was of having to leave until I knew that there was a chance that I could stay. I down the drink in one go, then promptly regret it as whatever it is burns a hole through my esophagus.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” The concern in his voice is unsettling. This isn’t the man who spent the last year terrorizing me.
“A cadet…” How can I say this without dropping Asher in it? “A cadet was speaking disparagingly about an instructor. I took offence at that. I also stopped another cadet from pounding him into a wall, but that doesn’t make up for my actions. The cadet said something he shouldn’t have, I got angry, and I said something I shouldn’t have. My transgression was the more significant one.”
“I don’t suppose the instructor in question would be the other Professor McGee? I’ve heard the new nickname. Can’t say I’m impressed.”
“What? How did you know?”
He smiles ruefully. “One doesn’t manage this kind of institution without learning a few tricks. I don’t disapprove of your feelings on the subject, but I am very unimpressed by how you chose to act them out. We’ve seen you deal with life-or-death situations in the past. I never suspected you’d allow something as petty as name-calling to rile you to the point of neglecting your duties so comprehensively.” His voice sounds so disappointed that I can’t look at him. I’m staring at the floor like a naughty child.
“I know I shouldn’t have done it. I knew it the moment I did it. I just couldn’t stop myself on time."
“I also believe that Professor McGee is currently being treated most shittily by the Patrol.” I look at him in shock. “This conversation is not taking place, obviously, other than to give me an opportunity to soundly reprimand you for your actions and cut your salary accordingly. However, I believe Professor McGee’s position at this Academy is being deliberately undermined. I don’t know why or by whom, but the only people in a position to make that happen are within the Patrol. Now, there’s no point in me telling Professor Mc… Asher, for gods’ sake. I don’t think Asher could hear me out right now. And I can hardly speak to Gwen without that ghoul being present, as if there could be assassins hiding under my desk.” He thumps on it in frustration. “So I’m speaking to you, extremely unofficially.
“I would appreciate it if you could convey my concerns to the, the smaller Professor McGee. If you have the opportunity to do so away from certain ears, obviously.” He sighs. “Other than that, I don’t think I can say anything that could make you feel worse about this than you already do, so there’s not much point in me wasting the air. But do try to keep a low profile for the foreseeable future, for gods’ sake. I’m sure you believe you’ve just narrowly escaped a major mishap, but I’m not entirely sure you’re right. People’s bigotry can be difficult to live with; I can attest to that.” And with that he opens the door and waves me out.
When I get to Gwen’s office, I’m still so angry at myself that I give myself permission to spread some anger around.
“I need to speak to Gwen. Alone.”
“If this concerns her security measures…”
“It doesn’t. I’m no longer part of them. You said so much yourself. If you woul
d be so kind.”
When he Marcus finally clears out, Gwen rushes to hug me.
“What happened?”
“If I tell you, you have to promise me not to tell Asher.”
“Eh? What? Why?”
“I can’t explain that without telling you. But I can’t tell you until you’ve promised. I’m sorry. I don’t want to put you in the middle, but it’s important.”
“Ok. I guess.”
“An asshole was badmouthing Asher. Clint was about to beat the crap out of them. I stopped that. Then the asshole kept talking, I lost my shit, and said too much. Asher cannot know that this was over him, you understand? He can’t know any of that.”
Gwen’s eyes get even bigger. “Shit. What the hell did he say?”
“It was about his PTSD. ‘PTSD McGee’, he called him. He called him other stuff, too. Story’s out.”
Gwen falls back into her chair. “How?”
“I can’t prove a damn thing, but only way anyone could have known is if Marcus told them. He must have heard something. The last few nights have been… Well, I didn’t hear them, but I sure felt them. Woke me up a few times. Marcus is that much closer. But why on earth would he go spreading something like that?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t sound right. I can’t think of anything else, but it just doesn’t make sense. You’re right about one thing, though: if Asher finds out… Oh, I don’t even want to think about it. What are you going to say? You’ll have to say something.”
“Fuck it. If he asks…”
“He will. You can bet on it.”
“I’ll say it was something to do with sex. Plenty of people around here are still awfully Old Terran about people’s fucking habits. And that did come into the conversation, so it’s not precisely a lie.”
“It is and it isn’t. I am not happy about this.”
“Can you think of a better solution?”
She stares into space for a bit. “No. No, I can’t. This is damn awful.” She shakes herself and looks at me. “I’m sorry. Loveling, are you ok?”