Chương 17: Ch 12b - Vheece

Wyndeer guides her along the corridors. She cannot tell if they are navigating the same path as before. He slows every few metres, making sure she is keeping up, side eying her distrustfully. She avoids his eyes, keeping her focus on the deep black at the centre of his back. Her hands are restless. She wants to claw at the back of her ears. She wants to examine the cuff for a release. She wants these people to stop prodding her, drugging her, ordering her around. She wants to go home.

A sharp ping-ping sound pierces into her head. It is followed by two short pips and a longer beep.

"Where are you?" a voice asks loudly. Startled, she raises her gaze to the back of Wyndeer's head. He is still striding ahead of her, his attention on the corridor in front of him.

"Almost with you, Green, 5-K-rearward," Wyndeer replies. His voice is close, intimately close. But he is almost at the end of the corridor. Five? Six metres ahead of her?

"I'm waiting," the voice announces irritably. She trips as she stops, her hand bracing against the wall. In front of her Wyndeer is taking the final steps to where the corridor makes a sharp right. She looks around her. The voice was close, someone speaking at her shoulder. She is alone. She searches above her. The ceiling is a grid of hexagons, each permeated with a hole at the centre. There could be hidden speakers, she cannot tell. She looks to Wyndeer. It's not his back she sees; it's his face.

Angry and looming towards her.

"Why have you stopped?" His demand rolls through the corridor and through her thoughts.

"Who stopped?" the voice asks. Wyndeer's lips didn't move with the question. He hasn't reached her yet, but the voice was next to her. Closer than next to her. Again, she searches the corridor, the walls, the ceilings, for the source of the voice. She is going crazy she thinks. The stress of the situation is defeating her. The tears. The pit of despair in her chest. The drugs. The vertigo. Now she is hearing voices.

"Cara stopped momentarily but we are resuming our way to you, Green," Wyndeer says the words in front of her and as a thought inside her head.

"You hear it? The voice?" she asks. She is a mad woman. Wyndeer stands in front of her now. He is tall. She is eye level with the Trisec emblem on his chest. He frowns down at her.

"Conduction comms," Wyndeer says pointing at her ear, "Gask should have told you that they have been activated." She hears his voice in stereo, inside and outside of her head.

"It's Green Vheece. He has activated a group comms," he explains, "Two pips. One long beep means your microphone is on."

"Didn't Gask explain this to you?" the voice in her head -Vheece - complains impatiently. Cara nods.

"Don't nod," Wyndeer reprimands her, "the Green needs to hear you."

"U-um," she says, finding it very disconcerting that she is looking at Wyndeer but speaking out loud to a voice in her head.

"She told me a lot of–."

"I don't need explanations. Make sure you learn how to use it," Vheece interrupts. His voice in her head louder than her own in her ears.

"I'm waiting, Wyndeer." Wyndeer glares at her, his grey eyes are miniature storms.

"Yes Green," he says, both in front of her and in her head. ………. It is another white room. This one is the largest so far, about the size of a school hall. One side of the room is divided by a thick wall of glass, behind which stands Vheece.

"Finally, here you are," Vheece says, a grin stretching from ear to ear but not reaching his eyes. She imagines his voice is bouncing harshly off the glass, but it comes through crisp and clear in her head.

"Stand there." He gestures to the small chest high table that stands in the middle of the room. Her vertigo has eased. Now apprehension looms upon her. A coldness circles her head as she feels the blood drain down to her feet making her legs dead weights. There is a light pressure at the small of her back as Wyndeer pushes her further into the room.

"I'm looking forward to finding out more about you Cara. I'd begun to think Visitors weren't worth my time and that they could indeed be left to Argatta, but you," he licks his lips as he considers his phrasing, "you have some very interesting potential." His grin returns, as does the lump in her throat. Tears prick at the back of her eyes. I will not cry, I will not cry, she repeats to herself in her head. Her inner voice is crowded by the presence of the two men's voices.

"Wyndeer," Vheece snaps, "put the shard on the table." Wyndeer places the shard on the table with a small clunk. Not just the shard, it is her shard. The feeling of familiarity surprises her, she has only seen it briefly twice before.

"Are you still denying knowledge of this shard, Cara?" Vheece asks.

"Y-yes," she says weakly, "I don't know what it is."

"Perhaps," Vheece says.

"But you have used it, and I want to see you use it myself."

"Use it?" she asks in confusion.

"Yes, use it. As you did in the bunk house. Wyndeer has submitted a full account. Previous Visitors reacted to shards as you did initially, so we have known of the connection between the Visitors and the shards they arrive with. But none have used it the way you did." This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Use it? I don't understand," Cara looks from Vheece to Wyndeer. Wyndeer stands with his hands locked together behind his back. He faces the glass, his head held perfectly perpendicular to his broad, straight shoulders.

"You used the shard in the bunk house." Vheece announces irritably.

"You inflicted quite an injury on Crathsun."

"I what?" she baulks.

"Cara," Vheece's voice is an intimate rebuke inside her head, "I am not known for my patience. I find having to explain every single point multiple times extremely tedious." He clears his throat then continues at a slower pace, "You used the shard on everyone in the bunk house in order to escape."

"I-I didn't. I-I…" she stutters. Her hand twitches involuntarily as she remembers. She'd been holding the shard. Holding it when they'd all slid away from her. Holding it when Crathsun had crashed into the cupboard.

"Cara," Vheece snaps, "You used the shard. You repulsed everyone and everything near you. Repulsed with such force in Crathsun's case that he cracked his skull and bruised three vertebrae. Is that not correct, Wyndeer?"

"Yes, Green," Wyndeer affirms, his gaze remaining locked ahead.

"I what?" Cara reels around, taking a step forward to ensure she is in Wyndeer's eyeline.

"I didn't? I did that?" Wyndeer's eyes flicker down to her face. She sees his frown lines deepen but he quickly reigns back the emotion, his face resettles into an impassive expression.

"Yes, you did that," he states simply.

"But how- I?" The sound of that sickening crack echoes in her head. She had assumed it was made by the shattering wood. Could it have been Crathsun's head? She had done that?

"How is Crathsun? Is he ok?" she asks urgently. This time Wyndeer does break his stance. He tilts his head down to study her, "He has recovered."

"Good. I mean, not good that he needed to recover. I mean-" she stumbles across her relief.

"I'm sorry. I mean, if somehow it was me then tell him I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." His right eyebrow rises quizzically as he nods an acceptance.

"Yes, you did it," Vheece's voice snaps their attention back to him.

"Now, I want to know what else you can do with the shards."

"Shards? There's more than one?"

"Yes, you arrived with nine."

"Nine?"

"Yes, nine," Vheece repeats through gritted teeth, "You had nine. Previous visitors had two shards, I believe one had three. You have significantly more shards."

"More shards," she repeats absently as she tries to absorb the significance, if any, of this information.

"Cara!" he shouts, making her jump so violently that she has to place a hand on the table to steady herself.

"If you and I are to get along you will stop repeating what I say." She swallows hard and nods.

"No more discussions, let's move on. I want you to pick up that shard and show me what you can do with it."

"What I can do? I can't-""Cara!" he admonishes her, "Enough talking. Show me what you can do." Bile rises in her throat. She looks to Wyndeer, remembering him sliding back from her, the coffee table smacking into his shin. If holding the shard had done that, even worse, had done that to Crathsun she doesn't want to touch the shard again.

"Pick it up, Cara," Vheece urges. The shard gleams with a warming yellow hue on the stark white table. She hadn't seen it before Draig had placed it in her hand at the bunk house, yet it has a familiarity to it. Those streaks of different yellows that add a complexity to its translucent shape, they welcome her. Comfort. They promise her comfort. Was that why she had picked it up in the bunk house? She had picked it up. Held it as they demanded she release it. Held it as Crathsun had moved to retrieve it.

Held it as Crathsun smashed into the cupboard with a sickening crack.

"No," she whispers, shaking her head.

"What?" Vheece's question rings out in her head as he slams a hand on the glass.

"I don't want to," she says, blinking away the tears that are threatening to come back.

"I don't care what you want, Cara. Pick up the shard and show me what it can do."

"No," she says, taking a step back from the table. Vheece sighs.

"He did say you were stubborn," he mutters in her head.

"Please." She sees a faint reflection of herself on the glass, an unrecognisable, pathetic form of herself.

"I just want to go home."

"Not more of that," he growls. She yelps. Her shoulders arch, throwing her chest forward as a stabbing pain drives itself into her back.

"I don't know how it is done in your world, Cara," Vheece's voice breaks through her panting as the pain dissipates.

"But here in my world I find pain to be a great motivator." She flexes her back to stretch and relieve the muscles. The patch on her back pulls against the stretch. The patch, she realises, had been at the epicentre of the pain. She twists an arm behind her. Her fingernails catch the edge of the patch just as pain plunges its knife into her back again. Her back spasms. The muscles under the patch contract into a furious ball. She pants noisily against the pain.

"No, no," Vheece chides in her head, "No touching the patch." When the stabbing stops, she leans over, bracing her hands on her knees as she encourages her back muscles to relax.

"Cara, we can make this a long, painful process for both of us, or you can pick up the shard and show me what it does."

"I-I don't know what it does," she pants as she stands upright slowly.

"Then we'll find out together, won't we?" he responds with a grin. She looks to Wyndeer. He remains facing forward, his eyes on the glass, his jaw tightly clenched. Between them the shard gleams on the table.

"I don't want to-" Pain thrusts itself through her back, spearing in every direction across her torso. Her muscles contract tighter and tighter, squeezing at her ribcage. As the pain tightens around her chest it squeezes her lungs like bellows, expelling her yell with force.

"Remember Cara," Vheece's taunting tones speak out in her head.

"I don't care what you want. I care about what I want."

"Please," she says hoarsely. It is painful to breathe, her body finds it hard to unwind the forced contractions.

"No need for please Cara, just pick up the shard." His face is blurry behind the glass. She is dismayed to realise that tears are welling in her eyes and pouring down her cheeks. She rubs at her eyes with shaking hands. She is tempted to leave her hands there, to release her despair and lose herself in a cascade of sobs. No, she tells herself, not in front of Vheece. When she gets back to her room, she can let herself fall apart, but not here, not in front of him.

She takes a deep, painful breath and moves towards the table. Her fingers brush the shard's smooth surface. Beyond the table Wyndeer shifts. She snatches her hand away.

"What about Wyndeer?" she asks Vheece behind his wall of glass.

"What if- What if the same thing happens?" Vheece shrugs, "Wyndeer chose to come instead of sending one of his down-rank."

"But he could stand behind the glass with you," she suggests.

"He could," Vheece snorts, "but for now he stays on that side, with you. Now, pick it up."

"Maybe he could-" Pain explodes across her back, shooting up her spine and gripping her head in a vice. She sinks hard onto her knees, her body arching stiffly backwards. The searing pain under the patch stops but her body remains riddled with spasms. She manages to pivot herself forward to rest on her hands and knees, breathing hard. Wyndeer's hand appears in her blurry vision as he quietly places the shard down on the floor in front of her.

"Pick it up Cara." Vheece's growl claws at the net of pain encompassing her head. Tears and drool combine in a puddle on the floor under her. A sob rolls through her, plucking at every taunt muscle in its path. On her knees before him, she reaches forward to pick up the shard, keeping her head bent down, not wanting to see his sneering face. She winces at first touch but soon finds her fingers eagerly curling around the glassy surfaces. A warm breeze brushes against the wetness of her cheeks.

Her knees sink into soft earth as she kneels on imagined grass that feels so real, so comforting.

"Do something with it," Vheece screeches in her head. She winces, holding her breath and bracing against another eruption of pain from the patch. The shard fizzes in her hand. A warming tingle travels up her arm, pushing tendrils of warmth into her braced muscles. The energy races with eagerness across her body seeking out every muscle, every bone, injecting them with its sparkling warmth. It spins and swirls into her aching head, glowing golden yellow behind her eyelids.

As her muscles relax, she slumps gently sideways, to sleep on the sun-warmed grass.