Authors: Ann Somerville
Tags: #race, #detective story, #society, #gay relationships
“You’re serious.”
“No. To tell the truth, I don’t
think I could get it up anyway. Too many drugs and wires and
things.
“It’s not....”
“Permanent? Don’t think so. I
haven’t actually asked.”
“Sanity, Javen, you have to
find out! A man’s...reactions...are essential.”
“Yeah, but there’s been a bit
more to worry about than morning wood. I’ll find out for you, so
you don’t need to pick up a toyboy for relief purposes.”
Again he wagged his finger.
“You’re spending too much time thinking along those lines. Stop it.
It’s unhealthy.”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Brat.” He stood. “I should go
though. You look tired.” He brushed the hair off my forehead. “Love
you.” He bent and kissed me. “Sleep well.”
“You too. And I’m sorry.”
“You’re a terrible patient. Get
well and it’ll be behind us.”
Oh, I hoped so. I really hoped
so.
~~~~~~~~
“Some questions” took two hours
and left me exhausted and fretful, though nice Doctor Woy took it
as gently as possible, giving me lots of breaks and support.
“That’s the worst of it,” she
said. “I’ll need a brain scan and some blood work done, but I hope
to have some preliminary results by tomorrow and then we can go
from there.”
“What do you think it is?”
I’d come to distrust that
particular smile of hers, the one that said “Let’s not scare anyone
just yet.” I’d used it too many times myself in the field. “I don’t
think it’s helpful to speculate. You’ll just worry yourself and
there’s probably no need. How are you sleeping?”
“Fine,” I lied. “I feel much
better today.”
“Excellent. Then I’m sure these
tests will rule anything major out. Concentrate on your physical
therapy. More than enough there to keep your mind working.”
We were both lying. When
doctors lied, patients had good reason to be scared.
I had the scan and more
blood drawn, but I heard nothing from the psychologist the next day
or the day after that. I guessed if it had been something life
threatening like a tumour, there wouldn’t have been a delay, but
the silence made me edgy and cranky, and poor Kirin took the brunt
of it. At least Yashi was with him the second time and told me to
knock it off, but both of them were more concerned than angry. I
wanted to tell
them
to knock it off, but how could they and how
could I?
They were making noises about
leaving when Doctor Woy turned up. “Oh, Javen, you have visitors. I
can come back.”
“It’s okay, doctor. This is my
brother, Yashi, and my partner, Kirin.”
“Oh. Nice to meet you.” She
shook hands with them. “I suppose it’s just as well...you could do
with some support, I think. If you don’t mind them hearing the
results of the tests, I mean.”
Yashi took my hand. “Bad news,
doctor?”
“Um, possibly. Javen?”
“Tell me,” I said. Yashi
squeezed my hand. Kirin moved in closer. “Is it a tumour?”
She was taken aback. “Goodness,
no. You’re not ill at all. Is that what you thought?”
“Yes. But if it’s not
that—”
“No, it’s not. Categorically
not. You two are twins, aren’t you? Identical? Do you have
children, Yashi?”
“Identical twin boys.”
“Ah, then this will affect you
too. Javen, you and Yashi have the gene for empathy. Did you
realise that?”
I frowned. “No. How can we?
We’re both Kelon.” Yashi looked at me in confusion. Kirin squinted
at the doctor. I reached for his hand but he didn’t see.
“I don’t know how specifically.
Obviously I don’t know your family history in every detail, but the
results are unequivocal.”
“
You mean we have
banis
blood?” But we were Kelon. The whole family were
Kelon.
Yashi grinned uneasily. “You
want to tell Dad or will I?”
Wouldn’t that be fun. “Um, you,
I think, since I’m injured. But, doctor, I’m not empathic. I did
the test when I joined the force.”
“No, you weren’t then. You are
now.”
“What?”
Kirin’s voice echoed mine. “How
can that be?” he asked. “When did it happen?” I didn’t care for the
accusation in his voice that seemed half aimed at me.
“I think it was triggered by
the shooting,” she said. “It’s rare but there are cases on record
of trauma or severe illness activating empathy in Kelon individuals
with the gene.”
“Then untrigger it. They can do
that now, right? Gene therapy or something?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m
sorry. Some things we could reverse, yes. Not this. It
fundamentally changes brain structure and chemistry. Trying to
reverse could leave you severely damaged. You’ll have to accept
that you’re now an empath and will be for the rest of your
life.”
“
No, you have to be
wrong! I’m not an empath. I can’t be a cop with empathy.” She
winced—my voice had got a little loud. But damn it, this couldn’t
be right. It
couldn’t
.
Yashi finally realised what the
real issue was. “Javen,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The
results are very clear. You are empathic, and very strongly so. And
I, uh, have a statutory duty to tell your employer.”
“No! Run the test again! I
can’t be,” I pleaded. “I’m a cop. Please. Do it again.”
“I would if I thought there was
the least point. You have to accept this. You’re an empath. I’m
sorry.”
I reached for Kirin, but he
backed away. “Kirin?”
“I’m sorry, Javen. I...I
just...there’s something I need to deal with.”
“Kirin!” Yashi shouted after
him.
“I’ll be back. I’m sorry!”
Why was Kirin running away just
when I needed him? Yashi put his hand on my shoulder as I glared at
the doctor. “What have you done to me?” I snapped at her. “You’ve
just destroyed my whole bloody life.”
“No, I didn’t. No one caused
this, Javen, except possibly the men who shot you. The ability was
within you. Both of you, and likely your boys, Yashi. You should
all be tested.”
“No,” I said. “Leave them
alone. Leave me alone.”
She bowed her head. “I’m so
sorry. I’ll come by tomorrow—”
“You’ve done enough, thank
you.” My voice was cold, but my chest tightened with tears I fought
not to shed.
“I’ll come by anyway. Javen,
it’s not the end of the world.”
I stared at Yashi and ignored
her until she went away. Then Yashi hugged me. “She’s right. It’s
not the end of everything.”
“Only my job. My career. What
am I going to do, Yashi?”
“Dunno, brother. But I’ll be
with you while you work it out. Don’t worry about that.”
I buried my face against his
arm. Did I cry because of his sorrow or my own? Did it matter? This
stupid, ridiculous, useless ability was no substitute for the job I
loved. I might as well cry. Wasn’t much else I could do, not
now.
The day broke, pale sun shining
cheerfully through the windows. I looked at it and the invitation
it held to get up and join the bustling masses. “Not today,” I
mumbled, rolled over and tried to get some more sleep.
Three hours later when my
bladder and aching back made it impossible to avoid being awake, I
took a piss, then stumbled into the kitchen. I stopped short and
blinked, gritty-eyed, at seeing my brother Yashi there. It was
nine. The family was normally long gone by the time I woke again
from restless dreams and rose, looking for chai.
“Oh. Is it your late shift
today? I thought that was tomorrow.”
Yashi lifted an eyebrow in
exactly the same way I would. “Same day every week. Losing track of
time, brother?”
I made a face at him and headed
for the cupboard. He continued putting the clean dishes away. “You
could leave all that. I’ll clear it later.”
“It’s okay. Waiting for the
laundry to finish. If you could clear the dryer and fold the
clothes....”
I waved at him to say that’d be
fine. We were still sorting out what chores I should do in exchange
for free lodging. I did a fair bit in addition to babysitting, but
he and Tara already had a scarily efficient routine to manage their
twins, careers, and the household, and Yashi didn’t like to impose.
I’d tried to let him know I’d be only too happy if someone would
ask me to do something useful, but he was an independent sod. Like
me, really.
“You want chai?”
“Sure, why not. I’m ahead of
myself today, and the boss won’t care if I’m late.”
I smiled a little at his joke
as I filled the kettle. Yashi ran his own vet practice. He could do
what he liked.
“Having more for breakfast than
chai, I hope,” he said as he sat down.
“What? Oh, maybe later. Not
hungry right now.”
“Right. My face needs a shave
too.”
“Huh?” He pointed at my
features, identical to his own except for the stubble. “Yeah, I
guess. No one cares any more.”
“I do. Tara does. The kids do.
They want to see you look okay, Javen. You know—back with us.”
My conniving twin had
engineered this, I realised sourly. Should have figured it from his
elevated concern, but there was so much of it around lately, I
habitually ignored it. “You do ‘rock paper scissors’ with Tara to
decide who’d give me the pep talk?”
He rolled his eyes. “Dad called
last night. He really wants you to work with him. It’s not
charity.”
“I know. But I really don’t
want that job. I hate all that political stuff as much as you do.”
I filled the chai pot with boiling water, and set two mugs out. “I
know fuck all about mining leases. I’m a cop.”
“Was a cop.”
“Rub it in, why don’t you?”
I felt his regret at upsetting
me, which only upset me more. “You have to move on, Javen. Yes, it
sucks they kicked you out for something you have no control over,
but you’re only thirty-one. Even if you hadn’t developed empathy,
that shooting could have been enough on its own to make you retire
and you’d have the same problem.”
“
But it wasn’t,” I said,
louder and sharper than was polite. “Physically, I’m fine. And if
they’d kept me, empathy would have just made me a
better
cop.”
“I know,” he said quietly.
“It’s a dumb law, but lots of people agree with it. Even Dad said
he does.”
“Figures.”
Yashi poured out the chai
and I sat down. “Okay, we’re officially worried. You’re moping,
you’re letting your grooming go, you haven’t spoken to anyone
outside the family since you moved in with us, and that’s
not
like
you.”
“It is when I have a nasty
break-up with my lying, cheating boyfriend.”
“Kirin never cheated on you,
and you know it.”
“Huh. Let that little arsehole
move in quick enough after I left.”
He held up his hands. “Not
getting in the middle of this. I don’t like what Kirin did, and
I’ve told him. But he’s a friend, and I don’t believe he cheated on
you. What Devi’s role was, I don’t know.”
“I do. Arsehole.”
Yashi sighed. “Well, maybe.
Javen. You need to find something to keep you busy, something that
gives you what being a cop did.”
“
You don’t get it. You
don’t
do
cop work. You
are
a cop. It defines you. Me.
It’s all I’ve wanted to be since I was ten, same as you wanted to
be a vet. I don’t
have
anything else.” I turned the mug around but
didn’t drink from it. “My pension and investments are enough to
live on.”
“Damn it, it’s not about money.
It’s about your self-esteem. You used to care about so much, and
now you care about nothing. Maybe you need to see....”
“
A doctor? A mental
health professional? An employment counsellor? Maybe a
banis
witchdoctor.”
He moved back as if to get away
from my sarcastic tone. “Someone. Didn’t they offer you help when
you left the force?”
“Sure. But they couldn’t help
me get my job back and that’s the only help I need.” I stood and
picked up my mug. “I’m going back to bed. I’ll sort out the
laundry. Leave me a list if you want anything else. Housework, I
can do.”
He reached out a hand but I
moved away from him. “Javen.”
“Later, Yashi.”
~~~~~~~~
Of course I felt like a shit
later, but Yashi’s kindness was more than I could stand. He hadn’t
told me anything I didn’t already know, and hadn’t beaten myself up
over a hundred times.
To make some kind of amends, I
put away the laundry and scrounged around for other tasks that
might need doing, then made a list of food items they were running
short of, and did a run to the market for those. By now I vaguely
felt like eating, and in the only routine I had these days, I
headed for a small chai house in town that had several attractive
features. It was quiet and private, and the chai and food
acceptable without being so good as to attract non-locals. And most
important of all—it was nowhere near any police station, court, or
justice facility of any kind. This reduced my chance of running
into anyone I knew to as close to zero as I could make it and still
leave the house. Out of residual guilt, I even shaved, though I
honestly wondered who would care or notice. My family would. I
guessed that was enough reason.
I walked because it was
good for my still tender back muscles, and I was out of shape after
so long recovering from the shooting. I definitely didn’t want to
end up a sad, lonely and
overweight
ex-cop. I tried not to
resent the busy people going about their useful lives, or the
weight of their emotions on my brain. Most of the time it felt a
bit like wearing a too-tight hat, unless I sensed something more
powerful, like extreme anger or hate. Then it was more like having
a pick driven through my right eye. I’d have given a testicle to
get rid of this ‘ability’ and the few
banis
I passed earned a
scowl for the genetic contamination one of their people had
perpetrated on my family.