BOOK 2: COMMUNITY / CH. 11: BLISTERS

MONDAY, 4:30PM

On the way back to the Institute, Kate declared that it was too late to work, considering everything that had happened that day. No one voiced any objections.

It had indeed been an emotional day, but George wasn't looking forward to the final part of it. He'd have to bid Karen farewell, possibly for months. Gritting his teeth, he asked the question he'd been dreading the answer to. “Dirk, Maria said that you'd be informed about a safe-house for me. What will happen?”

“Oh, yes, sorry, I'll need to check something first. Kate, can I have a word in private when convenient?”

“Of course, we'll use my office when we get back.”

“Thanks, Kate.” Dirk then continued, “Basically we find you somewhere to live where you are very very safe until the trial, and then after the trial, we work out your options for the future. Some people want to get back to their old lives, never mind the risks, others will want to go the whole hog and have new faces, identities and the rest.”

George asked [Is that good news, Karen, him talking to Kate? I'm really not looking forward to saying goodbye for months.]

[Possibly. You heard Kate offer the cellar rooms. And even if we do have to stay apart, we can still think at each other. Trust and obey, George, there's no point in worrying. Not even about my hands getting blisters.]

[Karen, you should have said!]

“Come on, Karen, lean on me. Give your hands a rest. Someone carry Karen's crutches please, they're giving her blisters!” And so it was that George started out trying to help Karen walk, and when that didn't work very well, and despite Karen's protests, he gave her a piggy-back ride back to the Institute. [Sarah, wouldn't that trigger feedback between us?] John asked.

[Well, Karen's not as certain about George as I am about you, plus she's pretty embarrassed about the whole thing, judging by her protests. Whereas George is full of protective feelings and needs to learn that that doesn't just mean physical protection. They're both broadcasting. I guess that's tiredness.] [I expect that right now she'd rather use the crutches, given her protests.]

[Yes. Should we warn him?]

[No, Sarah. I think they need to work this out together. Karen's either going to have hurt pride or hurt hands. George obviously thinks the pride will heal faster, and he's not exactly choosing the easiest way out, is he?]

[So would you carry me?]

[If I thought you'd let me and you had a similar need. If Karen's pride makes her hands blister so she can't use her crutches, then she's going to be a lot more dependant than she obviously wants to be.]

[So you think this is sacrificial love from George, not just showing off?]

[Don't you?]

[Maybe. Should I tell Karen?]

[No, Sarah, not unless she brings up the subject. Let them work it out. I think it could be important to them.]

[You mean this is a bit like you racing me?]

[Maybe. Or like you throwing yourself into my arms, milady?]

[Hmm.]

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“Thanks for seeing us, Kate,” Eliza opened. “Maria asks if you were serious about George using a cellar room. If you were, what preparations need to be made, what about cooking, washing, laundry etc, how long could you put him up, and would you be willing to accept this figure here as rent. It's not what the security here is worth, I know. It's just that no one ever expected someone in the scheme to be offered such high security lodging, so the protection scheme's rental scale doesn't go up any higher.”

Kate's eyes widened slightly at the figure Eliza had written down. “Yes, I was serious. There's kitchen and laundry facilities down there — it was set up to be staff accommodation in case war broke out last century. We've not got the food stocks down there any more, of course.”

“So is the kitchen equipment from the last century?”

“Oh no, we've modernised it a few times. Sometimes staff working late on projects or papers will use it. Just for clarification, you're really able to offer that much per month?”

“No, no, it's per week of course.”

“That's plain silly, you know. It's far too much.”

“Well, your security system here saves an awful lot of agent hours,” Dirk explained. “Basically it means we only need to check every so often that he's not missing freedom so much that he's growing doubts about testifying. Otherwise it would mean twenty four hours a day, times two agents.”

“Plus,” added Eliza, “that little exercise in weight lifting suggests that he'd much rather be around here than anywhere else.”

“Weight lifting?” Kate asked. “Oh, you mean carrying Karen?”

“It might have started out as fun,” Dirk offered, “but by the look of him at the end it didn't end up that way.”

“So, what's the gossip?” Eliza asked. “He's obviously smitten, and the boss said something about him, but she was a bit cryptic. Are they engaged, just going out, or is that just his hope?”

“Oh, come on!” Kate exclaimed. “I'm a trained psycho-counsellor. You don't think you can wheedle information about other people out of me, do you?”

“Oh. Sorry, didn't think,” Eliza admitted, blushing.

“In your line of work?” Kate asked, one eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“I think what young Eliza here meant to say is she didn't think she'd get caught out.”

Eliza blushed deeper.

“Anyway, in answer to your question, he can move in tonight if you want him to, and as long as I don't have to do his shopping he can stay as long as he doesn't make himself a nuisance. What does a typical safe house occupant do to fill their time? I mean, it's a while before term starts again.”

“Apart from slowly going mad from boredom, you mean? We were actually hoping he'd sign up to do some programming work for us. Not on the computer here, of course, but if he could use a terminal here to access something more suitable for development work, that'd be great.”

“Sounds plausible. I presume we're not talking about first thing tomorrow morning? I'd need to talk through things with our computer people.”

“No, no problem there,” Eliza said. “As I understand it he's only had general discussions about working for us, it'll probably be a few days at least before anything's signed.”

“That sounds like it should be possible.”

“We'll go and offer him his choices then, if that's OK,” Dirk said.

“Go on, see how happy it makes him. I'll be along in a few minutes to show you the room. No, actually, I'll get Sarah to do it.”

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5PM

“Really?” George almost sang. “That's great. What happens about my clothes and things, will they be brought here tonight?”

“Well, for now your old flat is a crime scene anyway, and since the bad guys were out to cause you pain and suffering for no known reason, everything will eventually be tested for poisons, biological threats and the like. You'll eventually get your own stuff back, but it'll take a while, probably a few weeks. But tonight you get to have a new toothbrush and pair of pyjamas care of His Majesty's government. If you have any medicines, let us know, and if there's anything of real sentimental value we can get it rushed through quickly.”

“Oh. Urm that makes sense. No, no medicines, nothing like that really. Urm. I'll just have a sit down, if that's OK.”

“It's pretty devastating, I know,” Eliza said.

“Urm. Yes. It is.” George agreed and called to Karen [Karen, are you free?]

[Yes, George, just hanging around Sarah, waiting for her to finish something. You sound really upset.] Karen's compassion overcame her anger at the way he'd carried her down the tunnel. [Are you OK? Have they said you can't stay?]

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

[No, I can stay, and that's great, it's just the rest of it has just hit me. My things being checked for poison, strangers rummaging through them, that sort of thing.]

[Oh. That sinking feeling that your private things will be handled by strangers and you're not going home again? It's nasty, isn't it?]

[Yes. Oh, of course, you're facing it too, aren't you?]

[Except we know what Arnold did because my home was stuffed full of cameras. So my things don't need testing, just packing up and moving somewhere.]

[But you need your retinal scan altered too. How do they do that?]

[Do some precision micro damage, from what I understand.]

[Ouch.]

[Yes, that's what they say. Not looking forward to it.]

[Do you need to go to a hospital? How does that all work?]

[According to Eliza, there's this device the size of a small suitcase which does it all. They're bringing it tomorrow.]

[Do you want me there?]

At that question, the sense of closeness Karen had been feeling was gone, as the anger from earlier came to the boil again.

[What for? {anger} You think I need nursemaiding?]

[No, Karen. {Surprise} I thought it might help.]

[Oh, like embarrassing me by your macho display helped you show off earlier?]

[{incredulity} I'm not macho, Karen! {hurt} You know that, surely? I didn't want you to blister your hands, so you wouldn't be able to use your crutches!]

Karen realised that might have been the truth, but she was still angry, and she wasn't willing to accept it right then.

[Really? Then maybe I'll talk to you again.]

[Sorry, Karen.]

“Aaagh, what's going on in his brain?” Karen murmured, half to herself, half to Sarah, who looked up from her console.

“Something wrong?”

“George can be so infuriating. Sometimes we get on OK, but then he goes and does stupid things, like showing off that he could carry me along the tunnel. And just now he practically offered to hold my hand when my retinas get re-patterned! As though I'm a little child or something.”

“Ahh. You wouldn't try and hit me with your crutches if I said that was sweet, would you?”

“You're the violent one, not me. But sweet? Sweet? It's so patronizing!”

“That depends on your point of view, Karen. For the record, I think he's probably overjoyed to have his prophesy turn out to be the woman of his dreams and he doesn't want anything to hurt you. If I were about to have my eyes damaged then I think John would want to be there, just in case the machine went wrong or something.”

“You mean he's right, I'm wrong?”

“No, I mean he's acting like you mean everything in the world to him.”

“And it's really annoying!”

“Then tell him.”

“Urm. I did, sort of.”

“You told him that he'd been showing off in the tunnel? Did you let him say what he'd thought he'd been doing?”

“He said he'd been trying to save my hands.”

“Well, he announced that, didn't he?”

“He did?” Karen was surprised, she'd forgotten that.

“When he first asked someone to hold your crutches. You'd told him you were getting blisters, I presume?”

“Yes, I...” Karen's anger drained away as she realised something. “I should be thanking him, shouldn't I?”

“Either that or apologising for misleading him. Which one depends on how much your hands were really at risk.”

“But he didn't put me down when I told him to!”

“Karen, you're an intelligent woman. You tell me what was going on there, dispassionately.”

Karen thought for a minute or so before answering.

“He'd decided I needed carrying, and was ignoring my protests. He put himself to a lot of trouble, and did it because he thought I needed it. I was reacting from my embarrassment, injured pride, and he put what he understood my needs were ahead of my desires, and his, I presume. I know he was getting very tired towards the end. And he put up with the abuse I was aiming at him, and carried on. There's a word for that, isn't there?”

“Yes, Karen.”

“So he's said he loves me and he acts out of love, and I get annoyed and frustrated at him and throw it back in his face. Ouch.”

“But he still offered to hold your hand.”

“And I rejected that too. Aren't I such a nice person. I need to say a very big sorry to him.”

“Better make it quick. He's probably feeling pretty wretched right now. By the way, Kate wants me to show him the cellar rooms. Do you want the guided tour too?”

“Yes, please. As long as it's not going to be far. My hands are pretty sore.”

“So those protests?”

“Embarrassment, nothing more. I did need carrying, but just didn't want to admit it. Can I fetch George? I think I know how to apologize.”

“Nothing too shocking, I hope.”

“I'll tell him to scan me.”

“Just don't let him boil his brain!”

“I won't.”

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Karen aimed a thought at George: [Hi. I'm really really sorry. I've been horrible to you and you didn't deserve it at all. Where are you?]

[The small meeting room. Dirk and Eliza are here.]

[I'm going to come and find you, I'll tell you all Sarah's going to give us a guided tour of the cellars so follow me, and when I do, you are going to scan me.]

[Why, Karen?]

[So at least one of us knows what's been going on in my brain. I'm really sorry. You need to thank Sarah, by the way. She helped me stop being angry long enough to see how loving you'd been. Thank you, George. I did need carrying, you know.]

[But you didn't want to be carried.]

[That was embarrassment. You knew better, thank you. I'm just not used to being looked after that well, George.]

[You looked after me this morning.]

[That's different. You welcomed my help.]

[Of course. I was in trouble.]

[So was I. Now I'm almost there. Let me say my piece, then give me a second or two to turn my mind to the right subject, then you scan me, OK?]

[Yes, Karen, if you say so. I do love you, you know.]

[Yes, I've seen that. Your turn soon.]

Karen knocked at the door. “Sarah's just finishing something, then she'll give us the tour of the cellars, or at least the living space. I understand there's more space below ground than there is above. If you'd like to come this way?” She held on to the open door, resting pelican like on her good leg, coincidentally saving her almost-blisters, and thought of George and his care for her and how badly she'd treated him in the last hour.

George focussed on her, and did this new relaxing whatever it was. Opening his mind to stuff it couldn't cope with too much of, he guessed.

He only looked for a second, but he realised that he'd have to think about it for a while. Karen saw his eyes lose focus for a bit, then seek her face, and was relieved to see he'd learned the timing lesson well.

He'd seen what a complicated tangle of thoughts Karen had about him. She was truly sorry for the way she'd almost rejected him outright, for the way that she'd failed to understand his motivation for carrying her along the tunnel at the time, and how she'd conquered her anger, only to have his offer to be with her when her retina-print was altered bring it back even stronger. He also

saw how she was struggling to move him from the mental category of weird friend to an almost fiancé, and how some of her reactions had been because of that. Her emotions hadn't expected loving actions from him, so they couldn't make sense of what he did. But she did like him, and she was flattered by the way he found her beautiful, which was why she'd looked at his mind too long earlier. She was open to the idea of loving him, one reason for that was that he was the only prospect she had of fulfilling her dream to find a husband at university. There were other reasons too, like sharing the gift. Some of them surprised him. He'd never thought of himself as handsome, and he was equally surprised that no one else even remotely suitable had even asked her out. Of course George had skipped that particular stage, which irked her.

“Coming, George?” Karen asked, and he realised he'd been deep in thought and hadn't moved yet. “Sorry. I was day-dreaming.” It seemed the best description of what he'd been doing. “Pleasant dreams?” Karen asked, as they made their way to where Sarah would meet them. She was curious about what he'd found in her skull alongside her remorse. “Hmm,” he said, non-committally, but thought at her, [How do I respond to that in this company, Karen? What do they know?]

[Nothing, as far as I know. Also, Kate warned me Eliza was fishing for gossip about you and me.]

[What did she say?]

[That they should know better! So what didn't I expect you to find out?]

[Urm, no previous boyfriends, but you wanted to find a husband before leaving uni. And you've found out about my old favourite pastime of gazing at your beautiful hair.]

[Old? Something wrong with my hair now?]

[Well, no, but I think I prefer holding your hand, not to mention hugging you.]

[Ah, my poor hair, supplanted and rejected in favour of mere sensual pleasure.]

[I thought sight counted as sensual too.]

[That reminds me, sometime we'll need to agree about self-restraint and limits, won't we?]

[Yes. Not now though.] They'd arrived.

“As you see,” Sarah said, “the cellars have a lot of old experimental equipment stored away in them. Someday we'll need to clear things out, but not for a while. There are still some empty shelves over that way. The computer knows what's down here, where it should be, and also where it actually is. Karen, if you can't work out the system, then ask.”

“What sort of experiments?” Dirk asked.

“Anything to do with the human mind, perception, things like that. The oddest one I've seen so far was a setup to determine whether there really was a link between eating lots of carrots and night vision. Sponsored by a carrot producer.”

“But that's an old wives’ tale, isn't it?” George asked.

“There did seem to be a correlation actually. The problem is that it was very small, but the sponsor was happy with the result.”

“Surely that wasn't in the computer?” Karen asked.

“Oh yes, every experiment is there, linked to funding requests and letters and everything. It's all documented. And I know why, too. I got curious about a little program that gets run every week. It's got a history going back when the Institute was founded. Basically it checks to make sure your documentation is up to date and sends you reminders if they're not. Four reminders in a row, and it sends the director a note to say you're not fulfilling your contract, and if you don't give a suitable reason, after a couple more sterner reminders it automatically starts holding back significant chunks of your pay.”

“Ouch. And my contract says that? I don't remember seeing anything like that.”

“I checked,” Sarah said. “My contract says something like subject to the laws of the country and the regulations of the Institute.”

“And the regulations say that we document our work or face the penalty?”

“Exactly. You signed it, I signed it. So, don't forget to do those documents.”

“It makes sense,” George said.

“Oh, yes, it makes sense. It might even be or have been common practice. Just it was a bit of a surprise.”

“Only if you didn't read all the annexes to your contract,” Dirk said.

“That's true,” Karen agreed. “Read and understand it all before you sign. I assume you would, George?”

“Probably,” George said. “Wouldn't most people?”

“See, there are at least two people in the world it wouldn't surprise,” Eliza said.

“What, you too?” Dirk asked.

“No, I was presuming you would!”

“I admit I tried, but got lost in the first paragraph of mine.” Dirk admitted.

“Ah. George, on our biassed sample, it looks like you're in the minority,”

Eliza said.

“Oh. You didn't know what you agreed to!” George was shocked.

“I must admit I got Daddy to check it over for me,” Karen said. “He is good at spotting dangerous wording.”

“That encourages me quite a lot, Karen,” George said.

“And I trusted the fact that John was working under the same contract, rules, etcetera,” Sarah added.

“So, Eliza, do you have any case to plead?” Karen asked.

“Urm, laziness?” Eliza admitted.

“Not knowing what you're agreeing to costs you your first born child, according to some fairy tales,” remarked George.

“The good news is trading in humans isn't legal here,” Karen chipped in, “so they might let you off that one.”

“Gee, thanks, Karen,” Eliza responded. “Sarah, can we continue the tour? This conversation is getting uncomfortable.”