Echo Page 14

Danny couldn’t say anything to help, so he went to his room and took a hot shower. When he came back to the galley, Corin had moved into Sky’s chair, with the clothes piled around him as he continued to mend. The others sat at the table, eating.

  “Tuna sandwiches? Really?” Danny asked. Given Tray’s disappointment, he’d expected something more elaborate.

  “Hawk’s not here. May as well enjoy the things he won’t eat,” Tray said. He pointed to a bowl. “We also have vegetable dip.”

  Morrigan had an arm around Michael’s shoulders. He was wrapped in a blanket and had a pencil and paper in front of him.

  “I thought we’d be bringing dinner to you,” Danny said, putting a hand on Morrigan’s shoulder. “Did you hear the message from Cordova?”

  “We’re not taking him back there unless they agree to heal him,” Morrigan said.

  Tears streamed down Michael’s cheeks, and he used the hem of his blanket to catch them. Morrigan hugged him from behind and he let out a soft sound with the next sob.

  “Does he not like fish?” Tray asked.

  “Stop it, Tray,” Morrigan snapped. “I bet he can eat you under the table.”

  “Oh, did I strike a nerve, Doctor Love?” Tray teased.

  “I am a professional!” Morrigan cried, her cheeks getting hot. “I’m not—I’m not falling for him. I’m just taking care of him. I’m a doctor. It’s what I do.”

  “Deny it all you want,” Tray taunted.

  “Like you have room to speak. You married your nurse!” Morrigan retorted.

  “For your information, I was in love with Saskia before I got shot. I just didn’t get a chance to kiss her until after I came out of the coma.”

  “Really?” Danny asked, surprised by the revelation. He knew so little about the start of their relationship. Tray blushed, giving a clear indication that he’d already said too much.

  Danny switched his attention back to Michael. “We can give him a Virclutch. We don’t have to use paper.”

  “If you want to make the offer, talk to him. Not to me,” Morrigan snapped.

  Blushing, Danny sat on the bench next to Michael and tapped his shoulder to get him to look. He repeated the offer, but Michael shook his head. He picked up the pencil and positioned it over the paper.

  “Do you have a question? Is there something you want to say?” Danny prompted.

  Michael smiled softly and tapped the pencil against Morrigan’s hand.

  “Yes, Michael?” she asked.

  “I want to talk to you,” he wrote. His hand moved slowly, and the lettering was neat. “You’re nice.”

  “I think you’re nice, too,” she said, kissing his cheek. Putting a hand on her face, Michael redirected her lips to his and kissed her. Morrigan closed her eyes, and her body quivered. The kiss lasted only a second, and Michael smiled broadly when it was over. Morrigan forced a smile, but her eyes were starting to shimmer. She excused herself from the table and hustled down the hall to her quarters.

  “That’s saying something,” Chase commented with a whistle.

  Danny gave Morrigan a few moments before following. She’d closed and locked the door, and rather than knock, Danny overrode the controls. Morrigan sat on her bed, crying. There was no jet or needle in her hand. No pills in sight.

  “Leave me alone,” she said, using the sheet to blot her nose.

  “Do you have meds in here?” Danny asked.

  She nodded.

  “Did you already take them?”

  She shook her head.

  “When did you last take them?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, sobbing a little harder. “I feel like this day has lasted a week. I’ve only known him a few hours.”

  “So… the kiss?” Danny wished he didn’t have to pry. “Was that pity, or is there a spark? It looked like a spark, at least from him.”

  “I just wanted to save him from pain,” Morrigan stammered, dabbing her eyes with the corner of her sheet. “I never meant to… But I know he’s not… He’s practically a child. Not in age. In his need for love. The fact that I look at him is enough for him to be interested in me. It’s the kind of imbalance that leads to bad things.”

  “Sometimes, you just feel it,” Danny said. “You don’t have to go into it looking toward forever.”

  “Is that why you finally jumped on Sky?” Morrigan huffed, rolling her eyes. She didn’t need him to lecture her on love. But she shook her head apologetically. “Seeing Corin healed, I’m starting to wonder. It made so much sense to rescue him from Nola, but he doesn’t belong on a spaceship. For Michael, that’s doubly true. We can’t just drop him in Quin, and definitely not in Nola. He needs support. He needs his mom and his brother. I thought the solution for him would be out here, but now I think we have to take him back. Both of them. And me and Chase. And Hawk. All your strays, Danny. We have to go home.”

  Danny let out a long breath. His depression was bad enough already. He couldn’t even think of disbanding his crew. A part of him knew that once he paid his debt to Hawk, he’d be back in Quin running water hauls from Aquia to Terrana. Tray would leave the ship to stay with his kid. Saskia would leave to stay with Tray. Amanda would leave to have that sailboat and goldfish she always wanted. He couldn’t afford to think that far ahead.

  “Did you see the message from your brother?” he asked, changing the subject. He motioned her to the door, and she made a face.

  “I can listen to it in here.”

  “You don’t have a stash in the ward room,” Danny said. He hated that he couldn’t trust her to be alone.

  Morrigan glowered but followed him out. Her door was five steps from the galley, and rather than head for the stairs, Morrigan went back to the table and sat with Michael. His blanket had fallen to his shoulders, and he kept one hand on it while he wrote.

  “What is all this?” Morrigan asked. There were three full pages of writing spread across the table.

  “We asked him to tell us what happened today,” Tray said. “He tried to ascend to the place of no pain. Didn’t work.”

  “Ascension doesn’t involve blood-letting,” Danny said, glancing at the papers. Michael’s handwriting may have been neat, but his sentences were simple, and he repeated the same phrases over and over.

  ‘There is no pain. I’m going. Ascend.’

  He tapped Michael’s shoulder. “Where was Tommy while you were trying to ascend?”

  Michael glanced at Morrigan, then ducked his head, scribbling over words he’d already written. Danny tapped his shoulder and asked again. Michael wrote one word. “Libby.” He wrote it again, but larger, then he wrote it in block letters.

  Danny stayed Michael’s hand, getting Michael to look at him again. “What happened to your ear?”

  Michael croaked loudly. The sound wasn’t a word. He didn’t know how to form words with his voice. This time, he wrote “Knife.”

  20

  Saskia scoped Jack Fisher’s apartment, taking pictures and videos on her Virp. Tommy wasn’t there. It looked like no one had been since the incident.

  There was a desk in Michael’s room, and most of his blood had pooled around an open journal. Saskia took a picture of the page, but it was illegible because of the blood. An overturned chair and a few spatters of blood on the wall were the only signs of a fight. She searched the rest of the house but didn’t see a knife anywhere. Either Tommy still had it, he’d tossed it, or it had been cleaned and returned to the kitchen drawer.

  Saskia was most worried about the first scenario.

  Using a pen, Saskia turned the pages in the journal, going back until she found one that hadn’t been soaked or blotted by blood. Michael’s handwriting was not bad, but the words had been written in haste. The first few sentences had her captivated. Michael wrote about winged creature on another plane—the locals called them harbingers, but Michael didn’t use the word. Once Saskia had all the images she wanted, she gingerly lifted the journal, wrapped it in a towel, and headed back to the
Eastwind.

  Hawk stood by the apartment window, scanning the courtyard outside, hoping to spot Tommy. Amanda was curled on the couch, Jack sat at the table, and Sky leaned on the counter, eating an apple.

  Saskia set the blood-stained journal on the table in front of Jack, and the doctor sobbed. Saskia opened it to one of Michael’s stories.

  “Fisher, it’s time to talk seriously about Michael. About what powers he might have,” Saskia said.

  “Powers?” Jack stammered, keeping her hands in her lap, letting the tears fall without bothering to wipe them away. Sky scanned the journal, and put a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

  “Hybrid powers,” Saskia said. “Spirit powers. There is something strange about Michael, and it’s affecting Amanda. It’s likely affecting Tommy, too, and it’s probably related to what happened today.”

  Amanda peeked one eye open, and Hawk turned from the window to listen.

  “We don’t even know what happened today,” Jack said defensively. “Tommy says Michael cut himself. Your doctor insists that’s not possible. And I agree with her. But we don’t know anything.”

  “Where does Tommy live?” Saskia asked, taking a seat at the table.

  “Well, he has… a place,” she stuttered, her cheeks flushing. “He moved out a few years ago. It should be in the city directory.”

  “You’ve never been to his place?” Saskia asked.

  “He always comes to me. To us,” Jack said.

  “You see him every day?”

  “Almost.” She seemed lost and ashamed. “I tell him he doesn’t have to visit Michael every day, and he complains, but he comes.”

  Saskia pursed her lips. They had a tablet that was synced to the local network, so Saskia called up the directory but didn’t see a Tommy Fisher listed. It was no wonder Tommy felt neglected.

  “Hawk, you said he had a girlfriend?” Saskia asked.

  “Libby,” Hawk said, seeming nervous about being put on the spot. “Just a friend. They had classes together.”

  “How long have they been friends?” Saskia asked.

  “I don’t know,” Hawk said.

  “Jack?” Saskia asked.

  “I don’t know the name,” Fisher said, pulling a tablet from her thigh pocket and making a note. “He’s been attending classes for eight years. Ever since he was granted personhood.”

  “He also mentioned someone named George. I got the impression that George has a lot of hair,” Hawk said.

  Fisher looked up, her face lined with surprise and confusion. “George was a test subject. A male they used to compare Tommy to, before we had Michael.”

  “Did he die?” Hawk asked.

  “I’m not sure what his status is,” Jack said, making another note on her tablet.

  “But you didn’t fight for his personhood,” Saskia asked.

  Fisher shook her head. “George isn’t human. Tommy may think of him as a sibling, but George is an ape. Apes have fur over their entire bodies. When Tommy reached puberty and started growing hair, he seemed so excited that he was becoming more like George, but that feeling didn’t last. As soon as he was granted personhood, he became obsessed with lasering it off.”

  It was disturbing to hear her talk about him with such clinical detachment. She may not have been involved in the crime, but her neglect had fed into the situation.

  “Where does Tommy work?” Hawk asked, coming to the table to peek at the journal.

  “He doesn’t. No one will hire him,” Jack said with a frown.

  “He had all this research he was reading, and he seemed pretty upset about it. And he takes care of test subjects,” Hawk said.

  “Maybe he meant Michael,” Jack sniffled.

  “Michael,” Amanda echoed. It was the first thing Saskia had heard her say since they’d left the NR lab. Amanda lifted her head and shoulders, but then sank back to the couch looking sick.

  “Easy, honey,” Saskia said, brushing back Amanda’s hair to see her face. “Did you sense something?”

  Amanda’s episode in NR—clamping her ear, claiming Michael was hurt—aligned eerily with what they’d learned about Michael, but also meant there were more triggers affecting her mind than NR couldn’t solve.

  “Michael can call for Tommy telepathically,” Amanda said. “They have that connection. When Michael called for him, he just left.”

  “That’s delusional,” Jack muttered.

  “I saw it happen, too,” Hawk said.

  “Maybe I can echo Michael and bring Tommy here,” Amanda suggested.

  “What does she mean, echo?” Jack asked, standing up from the table, hugging Michael’s journal to her chest.

  “When Amanda’s near a hybrid, she can echo their power,” Sky explained, keeping a hand on Jack’s arm. “You really think he’s a hybrid?”

  “I think he might be like me,” Amanda said. “If I can’t echo him, maybe he’ll talk to me. Maybe he’ll help us.”

  “What do you mean? Sky, what is this? What are you going to do to him?” Jack demanded, her features hardening.

  “Echo,” Amanda said, rubbing her eyes, sitting straighter on the couch.

  “Are you sure you want to try?” Saskia asked, rubbing her arm. “Last time, he overwhelmed you.”

  Amanda closed her eyes, apparently determined to connect whether it was a good idea or not. Saskia moved away. She was armed, and it wasn’t a good idea to leave Amanda within reach of a weapon. In any state.

  It was difficult to find Michael this time. For months, the spirit realm had been a breath away, intruding on her life and her perception whether she wanted it to or not. With the Confluence, she’d had a little more control. She wished she’d kept one of the stones, but Danny had dumped every last one.

  The NR therapy had healed some of the scars in her mind, but she wasn’t whole yet. She homed in on Danny, his worried prayers making lightning. This was the wrong approach. Echoing a power didn’t take this kind of meditation. It was more of a feeling than a vision.

  All she knew of Michael’s power was that yearning sensation that had washed over her. A call. And when she said the words, “Tommy, I need you,” she heard Michael answer back. “Goodbye, Tommy.” Was he canceling her call?

  After a few minutes, exhaustion set in and Amanda laid her head on the arm of the couch. The day rushed back at her, and she lay there, shaking. The NR therapy was worse than the baselining. The flashbacks were exhausting and nightmarish. The hallucinations confused her. She had bruises on her arms and chest from being tied down. The medication they’d given her mitigated the intensity of it, but knowing that tomorrow would be more of the same frightened her. And she didn’t have Danny here to help her sleep anymore.

  There was a knock at the door, and everyone scrambled. Saskia kept the others silent and ushered them to a back bedroom. Rolling off the couch, Amanda followed numbly, but Saskia pointed back to the door and told her to answer. Amanda touched her boot, feeling for her knife, but it wasn’t there. She picked up a ladle from the kitchen counter and approached the door. It whooshed open, and Tommy stood there looking as dazed as she felt. He had a black eye and a split lip. There was blood smeared on his hands and face, but not his clothes.

  “I don’t know why I’m here,” he said worriedly.

  “I do. You need a friend. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She took his hand, cringing at the stickiness of it. It felt like sap, dirt, and dried blood. Since the others were hiding in the back room, she used the kitchen sink and gently washed the blood from his hands and face. The black-eye didn’t look too bad. It was mostly purple around the cheek bone, but there was no red in his eye. His body was still, his eyes fixed firmly on the counter top. Amanda got the sense that he’d switched to test-subject mode, and he’d yield to almost anything.

  “I was worried about you,” she said, leaning into his field of view. “I heard something happened today. I was getting NR therapy, and I’ve been foggy, so I don’t know exactly what.”

  “I wis
h Cooper would let me watch,” he said.

  “I don’t need an audience,” Amanda said, biting her cheek. She wanted Tommy to know her after she got better. He didn’t need to see her get triggered. “Where are you staying tonight? Can I stay with you? Or if you don’t mind the crowd, you can stay here.”

  “That sounds nice,” he agreed, glancing around the empty room. “Where is everyone?”

  “Hawk’s in the bedroom. Do you want to talk to him?”

  Tommy shrugged, so Amanda decided not to complicate things. The others had been looking for him, and in her foggy state, she hadn’t caught most of the details. For now, she just wanted to make him feel welcome.

  “Danny went back to the ship. He worries too much when I’m in the NR lab,” she said, pulling two cups from the cupboard. She didn’t know if Tommy liked tea, and for a moment, she couldn’t remember if she did, either.

  “He shouldn’t be worried. NR is peaceful. Don’t you find it peaceful?” Tommy asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a pitcher of Sky’s lemonade. “I always told Michael if they’re riding you too hard at the lab just pretend you snapped. They send you to NR to get patched and you get to rest a few days.”

  Amanda’s whole body lurched at the thought of intentionally going into that NR room. Maybe it wasn’t so bad when you were there under false pretenses. “Did you use that trick a lot?”

  “No. You have to be careful with things like that. They might just take your brain out,” he said, pouring the drink for himself, then checking for a nod before pouring for her as well. He found a box of crackers next, and it was obvious he felt more at home there than she did.

  “I wish they’d take my brain out,” Amanda said, sinking into a seat at the table, trying not to pull her hair out. “They keep triggering what hurts, but they won’t erase the pain.”

  “Michael and I used to go to the lab together. We’d be tested side-by-side. I’d hold his hand when he got scared,” Tommy said, taking the chair across from her and nibbling on the crackers. “Then he started the change. He got bigger than me and stronger than me. He’s more fertile—more worthy of study.”