Tales of Chills and Thrills: The Mystery Thriller Horror Box Set (7 Mystery Thriller Horror Novels) (160 page)

Chapter 13

The lake wasn’t crowded. Brett leaned forward, angled his skates against the ice, and built up speed. As Ariel skated towards him, he took her outstretched hand. They pivoted around a spot near his elbow. When they had spun a hundred and eighty degrees they let go, each speeding back the way they had come.

From behind him came a gasp, a muffled thump, a brief scraping noise. He turned his feet, using the blades to shed speed and curve around. Tiny crystals of ice scattered the sunlight. He headed back towards Ariel.

After he had helped her up, Ariel frowned judiciously. “Not bad. Of course you started to learn to ice skate a couple of days ago, so you’re kind of a slow learner.”

Brett chuckled. Anyone could skate but it took grace to laugh about a fall. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “Just a slip.”

Brett wasn’t quite satisfied. He couldn’t put his finger on the reason, something about the way she moved. He remembered what had caught his eye the first time they met. Something about the way she moved was graceful, but ethereal. “Good, but I meant more than just the fall. Is something bigger wrong?”

Ariel shook her head. “No. Maybe. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Brett studied her features. The ‘maybe’ hinted at ambivalence, but prying would push her away. After a few awkward moments he returned to the previous subject. “How long does an Oceanian with nannies take to learn ice skating?”

“Probably a couple of weeks – if they were already grown when they started. I was teasing you. The bottleneck for skating is certain ankle muscles. You have discipline, and the ability to endure a little pain now for more pleasure later.”

Brett wondered what she would be like alone at night, though he knew all the reasons why anything more would be foolish for both of them, and unprofessional for Brett.

When Ariel spoke again she was all business. “You’re doing very well. Your medical knowledge probably helps more with the sensory and motor cortexes than it will with the rest of the brain, because each brain has its own individual language. Still, you’ve done the easy part faster than most Oceanians.”

Of course most Oceanians were teenagers at the time they learned basic nanotech functions. Would their greater brain plasticity make it easier for them, or would youth make it harder?

Brett’s initial fears had faded slightly a couple of weeks after the infusion. Some days his new tool – and toy – felt so natural he needed to remind himself of his mission. Only rarely did reality come crashing down around him, leaving him wondering anxiously what had been taken from him so thoroughly he didn’t even remember it. The classes he took were open, encouraging the students to experiment, and even challenge the instructors with things heard or read elsewhere. If this was a vast conspiracy, it was subtle indeed.

Emotional exhaustion rather than logic ended the worrying. A kind of peace took its place. He enjoyed learning, especially since Ariel had offered to help him. Skating outdoors had sounded nice, but it was summer. They had taken a long distance pod under the ocean, where high speed magnetic monorails ran through tubes with the air evacuated to save power and increase speed. She had summoned a much nicer one than had taken Brett to Ulayn, with no sleeping facilities but a little table for an indoor picnic. Now the cold air stung his face, but the warm parka protected the rest of him. A few clouds broke the blue expanse of sky. Even the steam in the air when he breathed was crisply satisfying.

Standing still on the ice was in a way harder than skating. In synch they started moving again.

“Next you’ll learn a couple of visual and spatial skills. But the most important thing you’ll be doing is learning how to learn.”

As they skated side by side, Brett studied Ariel covertly. A few wisps of golden hair had escaped the hood of her coat. Certainly there was no need for her to spend all this time with him if she didn’t want to. Other people could have taught him. He ached at the possibilities which could never be explored. She could help him in his mission, so he was doubly determined she would never look back and feel used.

Ariel continued in an impersonal tone. It was almost like a lecture. Probably just as well.

“Absorbing verbal knowledge through nannies is one of the most advanced processes. It can’t just be spilled into your brain, because your brain grows its own connections and makes its own associations with other things you’ve learned. You read, you study, you remember, except you’ll do it a lot faster. The system knows you’re a licensed neurosurgeon, so you’ll have access to a few more overrides than most people.”

At first he wondered why they had come so far north rather than using an indoor skating rink, but this place spoke for itself. He saw snow covered evergreen trees in the distance.

He said, “Thank you again for taking the time to teach me all this. If there’s anything I can do for you, just say the word.”

“Well, there is one little thing.”

“I’d love to.” He bit his lip. “I mean, I will if I can. What would you like me to do?”

Ariel took a few moments to start. “I have a doctor’s appointment in a few days. Um, I didn’t ask Michael to go with me because, after he and Muriel had the big argument, but I was going to ask him anyway, only now it’s so late it would seem funny I hadn’t mentioned it before, and, um, anyway he and Muriel might fight again.”

Brett considered that speech, made quickly and without a pause for breath, as if explaining made Ariel uncomfortable. He liked Ariel’s voice, sweet but with an undercurrent of mischief, so he would take any ramble she gave him.

“Would you like me to go with you without your having to explain anything to me?”

“That would be wonderful. Thank you ever so much.”

She didn’t seem frightened or depressed, so hopefully nothing serious. He’d just agreed not to ask her about it.

“Sure thing,” Brett told her.

She rewarded him with a radiant smile.

Chapter 14

Late afternoon sunlight slanted between the trees and came through the windows. A small swimming pool glittered invitingly in the grass.

Ariel caught the direction of Brett’s gaze. “Too small for laps, but five feet deep.”

He refused to be distracted. “Ariel, please tell me what’s wrong.”

She shook her head. “Nothing really. I just have a doctor’s appointment, and I feel like having someone with me. Muriel and Michael don’t get along.”

Brett wondered if he was projecting mystery into a straightforward situation. Then he remembered the wording of her request last week. She was hiding something. Or maybe he just had trouble dealing with the idea of a doctor making house calls.

Ariel stared at him speculatively, her light brown eyes meeting his. Did she see the wheels spinning inside his head?

She asked, “Do you know what this room is for?”

Not a parlor, Brett decided. The large white couch had a black and white checked blanket on it, and a pillow, as if someone slept there occasionally. A treadmill occupied a corner. Bedroom didn’t seem likely either. There was a matching loveseat, a black recliner, and some chairs. Six or seven people could sit here comfortably.

Ariel was sitting on the couch, her red dress and golden hair making a nice contrast with the white leather. She asked, “Looking for something?”

Brett shrugged. “I give up. What do you call this room?”

She replied, “I use this room to access the network.”

Brett knew some places had higher bandwidth access, but hadn’t heard of it in people’s homes. He glanced at the couch, she followed his gaze and explained.

“Some things you can learn while you sleep.”

Brett shuddered at the idea of being so vulnerable. “Does this have anything to do with your job – or your doctor’s appointment today?”

She was always evasive when he asked what she did for a living. For much of the day she had been subdued, and when her expression fell he changed the subject. “Do specialists often make house calls here?”

She smiled. “Muriel’s an old friend. You know her.”

Brett recalled what he knew about Muriel. A neurologist. If Ariel needed moral support, it probably wasn’t minor.

He asked her, “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

Then she took his hand and squeezed it. “Thanks for being with me. I didn’t feel like doing this alone. Katrina and Kenny wanted to come with me, but then I would have felt like the three of them were ganging up on me. And of course I couldn’t bring Michael.”

Of course? Her friends ganging up on her? She already knew Brett didn’t understand. He would soon enough – or not. He hoped Muriel could be an objective physician as well as a friend.

Brett didn’t hear a doorbell, but the front door opened, presumably because Ariel willed it so. He heard footsteps, although Ariel didn’t call across the room.

The doctor paused a moment when she entered the room, perhaps surprised by his presence. She sounded sincere enough when she said, “Hi Brett, good to see you.”

After a moment, Muriel sat on the loveseat. She turned to face Ariel. “Since overuse of technology is part of the issue here, maybe we should speak aloud.”

Had Ariel been speaking to Muriel non-vocally? Brett understood this wasn’t usually done when two people were face to face, and might be considered rude with him in the room. He didn’t really mind, but she had wanted him present after all.

Suddenly three dimensional images of a brain were floating in the air in front of the three of them. He could see it from the top, front, back, both sides, and several cross sections. Someone without nanotechnology would presumably have seen empty air. Even at that, Muriel could surely have excluded him if she chose.

Under the circumstances it had to be Ariel’s brain. The occipital lobe lighted up red, as Ariel’s visual cortex responded to viewing her own brain. If the red indicated electrical activity, the glowing must be blood flow or glucose supply, which took a moment to catch up. With the nannies inside her, Ariel’s brain was more thoroughly scanned than the most exhaustive tests Brett could have given her.

Muriel requested her patient perform various simple actions, the same basic neurological tests Brett might start with if he didn’t know what to look for. He’d already learned much about how his new nannies interacted with the motor and sensory cortex, as well as many of the limbic and emotional centers of the brain. As a general rule you could not reach someone directly through nannies, unless two people simultaneously disabled multiple safeguards. Strangers couldn’t confuse your vision with sudden pictures or startle you with sudden noises. Even uninvited conversation had to be out loud.

Ariel’s safeguards were clearly lowered for these tests, but Brett didn’t know how far that would extend – to any doctor in the house? The system knew he was a doctor, although he was hardly licensed to practice on Oceania.

Dr. Buchanan had finished and was studying the results. Not really expecting anything, Brett mentally reached. Ariel turned around sharply, either feeling a touch between her shoulder blades, or annoyed by some sort of warning that Brett was sending signals directly to her sensory cortex. She turned around when she saw nothing behind her. Muriel must have noticed. She muttered something Brett could not make out, and sounded annoyed.

Brett’s mood grew somber when Muriel spoke. She seemed to be keeping her tone businesslike with an effort. “I could study this longer, but we both know the problem. You’ve done too much totaling.”

She turned to Brett. “Totaling is –”

Then she fell silent. Outside, the branches of the trees all swayed towards them. He could hear the wind whistling against the windows.

It might have been a couple of minutes later when she addressed Brett again. “Ariel claims she’s worried that hearing about a disease involving the nannies will reinforce your fears.”

His head turned abruptly. Was the grail of his quest about to be dropped at his feet? His gaze sharpened as Muriel continued.

“When she uses her brain to participate in the overmind at maximum intensity, the motor cortex is involved in relaying information. Given her central role this can be up to twenty or thirty hours a week, but there’s still a margin of safety.”

Brett tried to sort out the revelations dropping on him. Ariel wasn’t just part of the overmind, she played a key role. Dr. Buchanan was about to tell him a way in which the supermind harmed people who joined it, something which Oceanians had long worked to conceal.

If not for Ariel’s illness, this would be a red letter day.

Brett exhaled. “I don’t suppose she could just quit? That would be too easy.”

Ariel shook her head. “I couldn’t.”

Was it addictive like a drug, or did it impose other barriers on those who would leave? While Brett was still trying to formulate a tactful question, Ariel clarified.

“It means as much to me as the Space Force does to you.”

In a crazy way it made sense. The Space Force might get him killed. It wouldn’t devour his soul though.

Brett was still absorbing multiple shocks, so the awkward silence continued until Muriel spoke.

“Before we get into that, let’s talk about what I consider Ariel’s real reason for not wanting you to know – and needing you to know anyway. I think she’s afraid you’ll think of her as an inhuman monster now.”

Brett glanced at Ariel, who opened and closed her mouth without speaking. Doctor Buchanan’s bedside manner wasn’t impressive, speaking for a patient and implying she was less than truthful in the same breath. Then Brett remembered an ungentle discussion he had once had with a drug addict who had damaged his own brain with a powerful narcotic. Until he knew more, he would reserve judgment. Maybe Muriel’s way was kinder in the long run.

He wanted to protest what she said about him as well, but Brett remembered his own speculations about Ambassador Nocker. They seemed absurd now – but were they? Had his perceptions already been subtly altered? A beautiful woman was the oldest bait in the world for certain sorts of traps.

Angry with himself, he shoved the thought aside. She was real and human, or he didn’t know anything about people at all. She needed him now – or never.

When he spoke his hoarse voice startled him. “Since I’m not running away screaming, how can I help?”

Muriel shook her head. “Only Ariel can help herself.”

Brett turned to Ariel. Her face was tense, but not frightened. Did she resent being pushed more than she feared what was being discussed?

He asked her, “Please. Your life is worth more than anything the overmind thinks it needs you for.”

Ariel’s eyes widened. “This is temporary. I knew Muriel would be overdramatic, but didn’t think she’d involve you.”

Muriel answered before Brett could. “You don’t want Brett to blame all this on Oceania, do you? Tell him what else you’ve been doing.”

Ariel raised her voice. “That’s none of his business!”

Yet she’d asked him to come – but Brett said nothing.

Muriel sighed. “Or mine either. I’m just your doctor.”

Ariel stood up and screamed down at the older woman. “I’m sick of you! I hate that phony calm voice when you’re so sure you’re right and everyone else is wrong. I’m sick of your backstabbing Michael. Leave me alone!”

To Brett’s surprise, Muriel stood up and walked out silently. Shortly he heard the front door close behind her. Did Muriel hope Brett could say or do something?

He sat beside Ariel wordlessly, wondering if the invitation to leave had included him as well. Apparently not, because she spoke to him, very softly. “I wish I hadn’t done that. It drives me crazy the way she’s so calm and so aggressive at the same time, but she means well, and she’s always been there for me.”

Brett replied, “She’ll understand.”

Brett wanted her to leave the overmind, get rid of Michael if he had any involvement at all, and start over. Clearly Ariel felt advised enough for the moment, so he just sat beside her, offering what mute comfort he could.

Abruptly he felt as if Muriel wanted to tell him something. No, that made no sense, she had left. After a moment he unblocked a thoughtmail for the first time since Ariel’s original demonstration.

Muriel communicated, ‘Patient confidentiality prevents me from telling you anything most of Ariel’s friends don’t know already.’

Not an auditory hallucination. More like he remembered just hearing the words, complete with emotion and intonation. It seemed Dr. Buchanan was stretching a point. She meant to tell him something.

Brett restrained a smile, not wanting Ariel to think she was being discussed behind her back. He wouldn’t either, though he felt some empathy for Muriel’s concern and frustration at not being heard out.

They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes. Then Ariel said, “Everyone’s exaggerating what’s happening, and blaming Michael for decisions I’ve made.”

As much as he wanted to understand, today was hard for Ariel, and Brett didn’t want her to feel like she was being interrogated. He said only, “I saw you fall when we went skating last week. Not unusual, in itself, I guess.”

Ariel shrugged. “Any effects are only temporary.”

“I’m surprised Muriel doesn’t realize that.”

Brett didn’t want to argue with her, since she didn’t want to hear it she would be upset to no purpose. The hint that if her doctor was concerned there might be something to worry about was as far as he would go.

Ariel picked it up. “She won’t believe we’re almost done.”

Brett squeezed her hand again. “If you don’t want to tell me what we’re talking about you don’t have to.”

Ariel smiled. “That’s sweet.”

For a minute Brett thought the conversation had ended. Then Ariel explained, “I’m helping Michael become part of the supermind.”

For some warped reason Michael wanted to become part of the supermind, but couldn’t without help. Somehow Ariel had to lose more of her soul in the process.

Brett exhaled. He’d try not to let presumptions get in the way of comprehension. Oceanians didn’t see the overmind that way. The people who were most concerned about Ariel didn’t see it that way. He’d already decided that Ariel was still human.

“Do people often get hurt helping others join up?”

Ariel shook her head. “Normally many people are involved, and do it during working hours, so nobody goes near the safety margin for totaling.”

Brett wanted to provide emotional support, not interrogate Ariel, but he also wanted to understand what was going on so he could help. He asked, “Why not now?”

She didn’t meet his eyes as she replied, and Brett wondered what she was holding back. “There’s prejudice against him for political reasons.”

Brett held on to his poker face, but the idea struck Brett as funny, like a vegetarian being thrown into the lion’s den and finding they refused to eat him because he smelled bad. Ariel leaned back and closed her eyes. He couldn’t badger her now. He abandoned his earlier intentions and replied to Muriel’s thoughtmail. “Was Michael rejected by the overmind because of politics?”

He half expected Dr. Buchanan would now be occupied with something else, and the reply would come much later – if ever. He was wrong. “No. If Ariel still pretends to believe that, ask her how many Galactics have joined.”

Sounded like a group of expatriates. No, wait, Williams had referred to them as a political party. Probably worth knowing more about, but Brett didn’t want to get sidetracked right now.

Avoiding assumptions, Brett asked Muriel, “Is their any chance Michael doesn’t know what this is doing to Ariel?”

“No, and we were nice the first couple of times we explained it.”

Ariel sat, oblivious to the silent dialog beside her. She stared at the images of her brain floating in the air before her. The occipital lobe cycled between red, pink, yellow and green. Ariel’s visual cortex was responding to the shifting image of itself, with a brief feedback delay as the nannies interpreted what was going on.

Brett restrained a surge of anger at Michael. “Ariel says it’s only temporary.”