Mindlink (27 page)

Now it was right. Perfect.

And maybe a test of sorts. To find out if he still wanted to be
with her after getting his human experience. To make sure he hadn’t changed his
mind about those precious claims of nonjudgment. The link equaled absolute
truth.

He passed with flying colors. If anything, his sharp need for
her had grown. It was heady to be the object of such desire.

They made love with exquisite care, as if the universe had
shrunk to just the two of them and nothing else existed. She held nothing back,
trusting he wouldn’t ask her to talk about what he saw. Images flew between them
and he left no room for anything else, let alone the past. He consumed her every
thought as the fire between them consumed her breath.

They connected on every level and she liked it. Not just liked
it—when he wasn’t joined with her, she couldn’t breathe, as if one lung had been
ripped away.

“I could get used to waking up like this,” she said, later,
after they’d come down and languished for a while, touching whatever skin came
in contact.

Sam propped his head on one hand and pierced her with
laser-sharp scrutiny. “Could you?”

His meaning marched through the link in pictures and along with
it came the clearest sense of hope. She flinched. “Well, not like forever.
You’re awesome and all, but this is just a fling. That’s what we call it on
Earth when a relationship is temporary, like this one. I don’t belong here. I
need to go back to where I live, with my stuff, and my career. Everything is
waiting for me at home.”

She couldn’t end up like Jennings. Old and forgotten. Never to
be a serious, respected actress. Never to be beloved by millions.

“What is waiting for you there which you cannot have here?” he
asked.

The conversation was upsetting him. Well, the subject of
leaving wasn’t making her jump for joy, but reality was reality. “The role of a
lifetime. A chance to get back into the good graces of the most powerful people
in Hollywood. This means nothing to you, but I know you can sense how important
it is to me.”

He tried hard to reason through it but she could tell he didn’t
get it. She bit back a compulsion to explain what was so great about this role.
It was a chance for validation, to show she could be serious about her career.
But he’d have to know all the reasons why her career was circling the drain to
fully appreciate it. Or worse, why she needed validation of her acting
skills.

“I can sense it. Among other things,” he said cryptically. “The
Telhada conscripted me to a life I did not choose, one for which I was ill
suited. I cannot take exception to you opting for the life which best suits
you.”

Maybe he understood more than she’d consciously communicated,
but the link wasn’t capable of deep nuances and it made this whole issue
muddier. “It’s all I’ve ever known, since I was six.”

“You entered your position as a child?” His incredulity set her
back for a minute.

“Well, yeah. When my dad left, we were broke and my mom heard
about this audition for a commercial. They were calling five-to-eight-year-old
females with red hair. I got the part and it was all kind of a blur after
that.”

“I understood placement was not determined by others on Earth.
You did not choose this profession?”

“I did choose it. My mom got me into it, but I love acting.
Most of it...I could do without all the waiting around and the endless makeup
sessions. The media. Directors who think they’ve descended from Christ and
expect favors for the chance at being in their low budget slasher flick—” She
stopped short before she said too much. “I like all of it except those things,
anyway. It’s who I am and I have to get back home. Can you at least try to
understand?”

“I will try. Can you understand I wish for you to stay?”

And there it was. A living, breathing challenge. She needed to
go home. He was asking her to stay. And she couldn’t.

* * *

They left Ashley’s room in frustrated silence, linked
but certainly not connected.

Sam wasn’t going to apologize for his position on the matter of
his future with Ashley. He wanted her with him. All the time. Forever. Why was
that so surprising? The abyss had welcomed him, rewarding him for taking the
plunge, and he’d emerged renewed, only to discover another, the abyss of
loneliness, loomed ahead. He’d lived an incomplete life, lacking in choice and
pleasure. When presented with an opportunity for both, he intended to fight for
it. Happiness was addictive.

Of course, he’d previously promised to find a way to send her
home. How could he have predicted what would happen between them? Yet their
conflict flared prematurely when at present, it appeared she might be stranded
here for quite some time. He planned to take advantage of every moment he had
with her, for however long.

Natalie and the doctor seemed distinctly smug and not at all
shocked to see Ashley and Sam together as they arrived in the common area for
the first meal of the day—late. Most of the diners were nearly finished.

“Where have you two been?” Natalie asked over the bustle and
then raised her eyebrows at Ashley’s expression. “Ah. Well, glad you could join
us. You should eat. They’re assigning us duties today. I hope I get a job with
someone who speaks English. I don’t mind learning a new language, but the
accents are hard to understand.”

Sam helped Ashley onto the long bench so she wouldn’t trip over
her skirt and procured two meals from the smiling servers at the head of the
room. Images of Ashley eating in a similar room popped into his head, but they
portrayed flat, shiny, colorful Ashley in a well-lighted place with smaller,
individual tables, and oddly shaped food. Wistfulness for that place infused the
images.

He glanced at the two bowls of grainy, thick mush in his hands.
She would have to be satisfied with what he could provide.

He set the bowls on the table.

“
ZXQ
?”

Automatically, he turned. A female resident stood a few meters
away, smiling expectantly. She had the appearance of a citizen, but her hair was
shoulder length and her demeanor was brighter.

“Mary said someone was here from Acquisitions and I never
dreamed it would be you, especially not in the company of people from Earth. But
it
is
you, isn’t it,
ZXQ
?” she asked, searching his face. “I saw you across the room and I
was sure.”

“My name is Sam now.” It filled him with sunshine, this ability
to correct her, to forever be fully and completely Sam. As he evaluated her,
recognition flickered but he couldn’t place this former citizen. “I apologize,
should I know you?”

She laughed. “No, I suppose not. We haven’t seen each other in
twelve years. You knew me as
YLL
. Yellie.”

“Yellie.” The memory of a younger version of his sister
superimposed over this older version before him. His sister.

His sister had escaped the Telhada and resettled in Kir
Dashamun.

Of course she had. Yellie had never fit the Telhada mold
either. Fragments of memories from his childhood flashed. When instructors had
sequestered Yellie in solitary for questioning the lessons. When she learned her
placement tests had slotted her in Transportation Services and dissolved into
tears because she’d hoped for Education. He’d often feared for her but pushed it
away as he had all other inappropriateness, assuming she’d acclimate because she
had no choice. Instead, she’d found another option.

Warmth spread in his chest and he couldn’t have stopped a smile
from bursting into place. He didn’t want to stop it. “I am pleased to see you
again.”

And he was, unashamedly so. Here he was free to feel as he
wished about anything and everything.

“I’m so glad to see you too. Sam. I like it.” She leaned toward
him, as if to touch him, but drew back at the last moment. “I honestly would
never have expected to see you here. Kir Dashamun is a refuge for those of us
who chafed under the Telhada’s strict control. You were the best citizen I
knew.”

Yes, he’d been very, very good. So good, he’d fooled everyone,
including himself. He placed a gentle hand on Ashley’s shoulder, needing the
physical connection. “I am fortunate to have been shown the error of my
ambitions.”

Ashley gripped his hand and twisted to stand. “I’m Ashley.
Yellie, huh? The invisible sister?”

He laughed. “Yes.”

At Yellie’s questioning look, he explained how his memory of
her had assisted their exit from the penal-system pyramid, which required
further explanation of how he came to be linked with Ashley and led to the story
of how they’d escaped Kir Barsha and located Kir Dashamun.

By the time he’d finished, Yellie was seated at the table,
listening with a rapt expression and he’d taken his own seat, managing to eat
between sentences. Natalie and the doctor had proclaimed it too difficult to
follow the conversation and had excused themselves long ago.

“Fascinating,” Yellie said and turned to Ashley. “I am grateful
to you for your part in bringing my brother here. You seem extraordinarily
brave. Our world must be foreign and frightening to you but you appear to have
adapted with remarkable ease.”

Ashley’s shock and denial sprang into Sam’s mind a split second
before she ducked her head. She did not view herself as Yellie had described,
but he couldn’t fathom why not.

“Thanks,” she finally said.

“How long have you been a resident?” Sam asked.

“Nine years,” Yellie answered with a wry smile. “The Director
of Transportation hated me and I wasn’t fond of him either. After many, many
disciplinary reports, he applied for approval to send me to recycling. I’d heard
whispers of how you can escape the city via the river and find paradise. The
perimeter currents won’t transmit through water, so you hold your breath and let
the current take you downstream. It was worth risking, so I snuck away during
third meal and here I am.”

Another piece clicked into place. The Telhada preached the
dangers of the river to prevent Citizens from escaping. Thankfully, he’d braved
the river to join Ashley despite the fear of those unknown hazards. “If you
experienced problems in your Transportation role, the Director is to blame, not
you.”

He’d never filed a disciplinary report once in his four years
as Director. Regardless, Yellie had survived. Improbably, they’d crossed paths
again, here in this city of refugees. Yet, it wasn’t so improbable to believe
she’d sought a place where she’d better fit. He’d have sought such a place too
if he’d realized his inability to belong spoke to a flaw in the Telhada’s
societal structure instead of a flaw inside his skin. In all of his secret
musings regarding his sister’s fate, never had he dreamed he’d follow her into
rebellion or how well it would suit him.

“We are expected to report for duty assignments,” Sam announced
with regret. Duty before pleasure was a piece of his personae he could never
extricate, nor wish to. Sam stood and collected the bowls to deposit in the dish
receptacle to the side of the dining area. “May I see you again?”

“Yes, I’d like that.” Yellie stood as well. “Perhaps we can
meet for the last meal?”

Sam nodded and bid Yellie a good morning. He and Ashley
reported to the head of assignments, as instructed.

Ashley was assigned to the child-care area. Her curled lip
reflected what ran through her mind—disbelief and a bone-deep fear of being
responsible for other people’s children. She envisioned one being mowed down by
a wheeled Earthly vehicle.

He kissed her cheek, sent an influx of calm in his stead and
left her in the care of the resident responsible for training. They were going
through the motions but the tension between them wound around his gut and
squeezed.

Sam followed the man called Bendal through the main section of
the city, straining to hear the older man’s incessant chatter above the teeming,
echoing street noise and the loud hum of Ashley in his head. He’d like nothing
more than to return with her to their room and recreate the cohesion of the
previous night. Real life—and her aversion over his desire for her to
stay—prevented such an indulgence.

“Here we are. Refuse duty,” Bendal said with a wide grin. “It’s
not a lot of fun, but if you do a good job, I can see about moving you to
something more glamorous, like gathering edibles from the forest. You get to go
topside for that.”

“I am happy to serve wherever you have need,” Sam replied and
meant it. Kir Dashamun functioned in a similar fashion to Kir Barsha, with
communal services staffed by residents, but placement seemed to be much more
random and not based on skill set or aptitude. Also in sharp contrast, Kir
Barsha’s Service Division kept every aspect of the city clean and in good
repair. Technology ran everything there, but also monitored everything.

At least here, there was no mysterious agenda or threat of
recycling.

Sam learned how to incinerate the city’s refuse in the rickety
chamber in less than five minutes and spent the rest of the morning performing
the mindless task with gratitude. The trash reeked, more so than the
ever-present smell of wet dirt, but the less he had to concentrate on his job,
the better. He was consumed with Ashley—thinking about her, wanting her. Aching
to touch her hair, recalling the soft slide of her skin on his, her voice. The
way her laugh curled through his insides.

In return, he received images from Ashley of small children,
fat, squat animals and an animated drawing of a girl in a shimmering dress,
interspersed with stray senses of awe and wonder. Occasionally, she thought of
him, which made him smile. At least she wasn’t afraid of the children any
longer.

At the noon meal, they ate with Natalie and Marc, trading
impressions and tales of their assignments.