His hand was still clenched on my jacket front. “I knew you were lying when you told me you didn’t know anything, back at the Center. That’s why I had a tracer put on you. And it led us right to the answer.”
“You think I didn’t know you were following me? It would’ve been damn stupid to walk into this all by myself if I wasn’t involved; that’s what you figure, isn’t it?” I tried to stare him down. I hoped he couldn’t see my ears burning. “I’m not stupid,” just crazy, “and I wasn’t lying to you. But I was smart enough to see a few things you overlooked, while you were spending all your time trying to blame this on the Center. Face it, Polhemas, I’m the hero here. You can’t turn it inside out.”
His face turned redder than my ears, and his hand on my jacket jerked me forward. But then he grunted and let me go. He was going to be hero enough himself to keep him from making a case of proving I was wrong. I let my own breath out in a sigh. He looked me over again, looking hard at my bruised face. Then he turned me around and released the binder on my wrists. “Why didn’t you just tell us what you learned? If you wanted to be a hero that would’ve been enough. Why risk being a dead one?”
I pulled my hands forward and rubbed them. “Why should I do you any favors? What have you done for the Center for Psionic Research lately?”
He ignored that. “It was the Dreamweaver, wasn’t it? Where did you send her—where is she?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere you won’t find her. You can drug me all you want but I can’t tell you more than that.”
“We’ll find her.” It was a threat.
I caught his arm. “Why don’t you leave her alone? They made her do it, she didn’t want to. That’s why she came to me, for help. She’s suffered more than that mindfucker ever did—” pointing at her “guest” standing sullen and confused while two Corpses questioned him. “He’s the one you ought to send up. If you’d seen the inside of his head you’d kill him on the spot.”
Polhemas looked at the slug and back at me without saying anything. His eyes were still cold and empty.
“Look, you’ve got what you want. Leave us alone…Maybe it never occurred to you, but we’re just trying to live like everybody else. Give us a goddamn break! We gave you what you want; we’ve earned it.”
He didn’t answer.
I let go of his arm and turned away. The corporate telepath was looking at me from across the room, where his boss’s voice was getting louder and louder. His face was full of fear and despair; I could see it, but I couldn’t feel it. I started to walk away.
“Nobody said you could go anywhere,” Polhemas said.
“Try and stop me.”
He did.
It was hours later before I was free again, walking back through the streets to the Center, feeling the steel and stone of all Oldcity weighing down my heart. Polhemas had asked me a thousand questions about everything I’d seen, heard, overheard, thought or guessed. I’d told him everything I could, because it didn’t matter any more and I only wanted to get out of there. It was only after I’d left the detention center that I let myself realize he hadn’t tried to force anything more out of me about where Ineh had gone. It surprised me, because it meant that he must have listened to something I’d said before. But either way it didn’t really matter; because Ineh was gone, and I didn’t know where. How the hell would I find her; what would she do—what would I do?
The Center had long since closed for the night when I reached it. But there was still a light on somewhere inside, so I went in the front entrance instead of taking the back way up to my room. Jule and Siebeling stood waiting for me in the empty hall; I almost walked past them without seeing them.
“Cat?”
I stopped, shaking my head. They came toward me when I didn’t move. Siebeling lifted his hand, and across the room the lights brightened. Their faces showed pools and lines of shadow, their tired eyes looked me up and down. Siebeling caught my jaw with his hand, gently, turning my face right and left.
“Did Corporate Security do that to you?”
“No.”
“What happened?” Jule asked. The question didn’t stop with my face.
“I fell down.” I tried to pull away, but Jule held my arm.
“Wait, Cat.” She stood in front of me. “You’ve been trying to pretend that you’re the only one who’s involved with the Dreamweaver’s problems; but you’re not. You’re not alone in this. You’re not alone in the world—for better or worse.”
“You weren’t exactly killing yourself to help me out.”
“That’s hardly fair,” Siebeling said. “You didn’t give us any information. You didn’t tell us the kind of problems that were really involved, the kind of people, the danger. You went off on a suicidal crusade against Evil, and you damn near got just what you were asking for! Didn’t it ever occur to you that—that—” he broke off, “that we can’t read your mind, Cat.”
“I never thought about anything else. That’s the trouble.” I looked down, my arms hanging heavy at my sides. “I’m sorry. Maybe I’ll start appreciating what I’ve got left, now.”
Now that it doesn’t matter any more, now that it’s too late. “How’d you know what happened? Were the Corpses here?”
“No.” Siebeling leaned against a seat-back. “They haven’t been here.”
“They haven’t? Not at all?”
He shook his head.
I laughed, a choked sort of sound. It meant there might be something decent in Polhemas after all, and I wasn’t ready to believe it. “Then how did you know?”
“Ineh told us,” Jule said.
Ineh? The word wouldn’t form in my mouth. “Where— where is she?”
“Up in your room. I had to give her a sedative to help her keep control; she’s sleeping now.” He touched his head. “You know she’s an addict, Cat—?”
I flinched. “I know. What’s she on, Doc?”
“Trihannobin.”
“Nightmare.” I felt the blood drain out of my face, “They call it nightmare.”
He nodded. “And it takes you for a hard ride. It’s a kind of nerve poison. Most people don’t use it for long; they generally stop when it kills them.” His face was as empty as my own.
“I went for a ride once.” The memories came without my wanting them to. “I thought I was in heaven. I didn’t eat or sleep for three days. And then it wore off.” I kept my eyes open, kept looking at their faces: proving that I was here in the present, that I’d really come through it. Nightmare . . . that’s why they call it nightmare. I could still see the hospital ward through their faces, the nutrient bath shining on my skin like sweat, the straps. . . . They hadn’t cared enough to make it easier. “Give her something to make it easier—”
He shook his head, looking down.
“Why not?”
“She’s Hydran, Cat... I can’t predict how it would affect her. She doesn’t react to the drug the way a human does, or she’d be dead by now. If I tried to counteract it without doing an analysis, I could make it worse for her…” He sounded helpless; I wasn’t used to hearing him sound that way.
“I guess I want to see her now.”
He nodded, and the three of us went upstairs.
I was the first one into the room, Ineh sat waiting, watching, from my bed platform. Her arms were locked around her knees, her fists were clenched tight. Her face was clenched too; I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
“We may need restraints,” Siebeling murmured to Jule.
“No.” I looked back. “If she needs it I’ll do it; I’ll hold her.” I realized as I said it that I was going to do more—that I was going to do everything. Not because I wouldn’t share it with them, this time, but because I couldn’t. Ineh would lose control again, and when she lost it completely I’d be the only one left who could stand to be near her. “You’d better get out of range while you can.”