I wanted to keep this intro short, but I have had a few new subs recently and I thought I would do another ‘until now’ thing.
But then I thought maybe everyone would like to catch up without any spoilers.
I’m still working on an index, give me a chance.
In case you’re new and jumping in, you’re welcome to engage however you choose, but this is a serial, and it does start at a specific point, so if you want the beginning click on the beginning. I also saw a next chapter button on someone else’s which I have permission to copy so I will be adding it to existing posts as soon as I am able to make the time. (Hopefully, before you all get this one - but no promises.)
So assuming that you’re all, all caught up now, here’s what happens next:
INDEX | Chapter Two | Scene 1 | Scene 2 | Scene 3 | Next Scene —>
I keep my eyes closed, resisting the urge to stir; I am not alone and I don't want to make it obvious I am awake just yet. The Manorian’s energy signature is so heavy it’s almost suffocating and it takes long moments to tear my mind from its memories and organize all the bits and pieces into a straightish timeline of the events following my escape from TTH.
I don't remember how I got here, but I can tell I am no longer on the spaceship. The room is large and well-lit. The walls are thick and insulating and the ground must have some kind of padding because it doesn't reverberate sound like a hard surface. Warmth across the lower half of my body tells me that there is a window. The air is very still, scented with an unfamiliar sweetness that makes my mouth water but it is the wet, fleshy, tearing sound that makes me finally open my eyes and look.
The Manorian is sitting in a thickly padded, purple chair a few paces from my bedside looking intently at the fruit in his hand. It has an amazing color, as bright as molten rock. He moves it slowly round, pulling gently this way and that at the outer layer of skin, until it comes away from the flesh. He is very intent and seems well-practiced until a slight change in the pressure he is applying releases a drop of juice. It rolls slowly down his forearm and as he tries to catch it with his tongue, his eyes meet mine.
For a moment the entire universe exists only in those fascinating orbs. The irises are the color of new leaves in the sunslight, flecked with gold. The pupils are Manorian blue. For one long serene moment, I do not feel afraid. Even my hardwired dislike of his Manorian energy is forgotten until there is a noise at the door.
"Wait!" He cries out, and the crushed fruit falls and rolls wetly across the floor. My eyes follow it along the fluffy cream carpet to finely polished black shoes. Instinct reminds me that Teag would have flogged me for failing to sense the approach. I swallow hard and force myself to stay still as the blue-eyed Pure one, enters behind a cart of thin drawers.
I have to take a breath as I watch my fists unclench. They saved me. I remind myself that if they wanted to hurt me they have had every opportunity. Fighting to keep calm, I fall back into the old habit of checking over my body’s state. I realize that I am aching in a familiar way, from something other than mostly-healed injuries. Also, my senses have not been very clear since I left home but now I feel them muddy even more for no real reason with each step those polished shoes take, and I find I cannot focus enough to even wonder why.
Blinking I watch as he walks calmly, confidently pushing his cart and speaking quietly as if he expected to find me awake all along. His voice sounds musical as he introduces himself.
My eyes widen when Luke says he is a physician, and they widen even further when he says the Manorian is his son. The Manorian energy I sense off of black-haired Logan is too strong and intense for him to be anything but pure-blooded, which must mean he is adopted, but that seems impossible being that Manorians have been forbidden to leave the Blue Solar System since the end of the Quarter Century War, and we studied all the distinctive energy types in our system which means we must be outside it. And Luke is definitely NOT Manorian.
My mind races with possibilities and I miss a good deal of what Luke says but the situation is clear. I am on his home planet, far from Telera. I owe them my life, which puts him in charge. I am not restrained. After what I did, they are trusting me and so I must give them the same as far as I am able.
Forcing a deep breath, I look at Luke and try to concentrate on his words. He says he wants to examine what remains of my injuries, though if it has been eight days as he says there shouldn't be much left.
His instructions are simple and so, trying to seem trusting, I do as I am told.
Something about Luke reminds me of James but I cannot place what. Focus seems just out of reach.
"No need to sit up. Relax," Luke says, smiling reassuringly, voice like running water. "Look at my finger, follow as I move it." He looks into my eyes as he speaks, watching my reactions as carefully as I watch his. The sound of his voice is hypnotic.
He speaks constantly, but I only hear a few words, the full instructions become clear in my mind before his lips even move. “Squeeze my hands,” he says indicating left or right, “if you can feel pressure” and I understand, here or there without hearing him speak. He says “Lift” this or that limb, and I do as he mumbles apologies for any discomfort it might cause.
He’s subtle. I am not sure what exactly makes me realize what he is doing and I hardly notice that I have closed my mind to him, but at that point, he starts asking questions.
I do my best to answer by nodding or shaking my head, but sometimes his questions need words and then I stay quiet. The words won’t come. He does not insist.
Once he is happy with my outer injuries, he grabs some strange device off of his cart. It beeps and buzzes and clicks as he sweeps it through the air above me. The examination goes on, his voice starts to sound more and more silky. He fiddles with the bed and the poles and the pipes, explaining as he goes, but I keep losing track. There seems to be a subtle weight difference on this planet. Maybe a little higher gravity? I feel strangely heavy and very warm and Luke’s voice is undeniably soothing. I notice my chest is tightly bandaged. The fine weave of the fabric looks like it would feel soft. As I move my right hand to touch it, I notice the IV in my arm. Again with the IV. It connects to a clear bag hanging from a pole beside the bed. That’s what he was fussing with. I struggle to focus on the label. For some reason, my head feels ready to explode. The only thing that is still clear is the sound of Luke's voice, like a beacon, but instinct will not allow me to latch onto it even long enough to make out the words.
When my eyes float back to the bandages, he places his right hand over mine. "You were very badly hurt." The pressure in my head becomes almost unbearable. "Some of the treatments I could only administer internally. This is medication to help you heal." He says indicating the pipes. I blink away the double vision again and find his eyes and the pressure gently drains away.
"You can press this button here anytime you feel pain." I nod and he releases my hand, smiling warmly. I smile back, thinking of James and remembering all the games a Mind Smith can play. I exhale slowly as he draws back.
* * *
When his questions are exhausted, Luke offers me a plate of rainbow-coloured chopped fruit and I find hunger is a powerful driving force towards letting my guard down. Saliva floods my mouth at the smell of it, and with very little effort I convince myself that I have given them ample opportunity to kill me, in much easier and surer ways than using poison.
When I reach for the first piece Luke and Logan are both grinning and they laugh aloud when that first bite is followed by a second and a third. There is nothing in the shape or texture that I recognize, but the yellow pieces are sweet and the green and white ones are juicy and the flame-colored one is best. Orange, Logan calls it. It is cool in my overheated mouth and tastes as sweet and tangy as it smells, and as its delicious flavor explodes with each bite, I can almost forget that Manorians are my natural enemies.
It is only when Luke turns around to pick up a syringe that I realize that my head feels much clearer and my focus has returned. "This will ease your chest, and help you sleep." He says, carefully pushing the needle through the rubber seal of a glass tube.
Trust. I swallow hard as he turns them over together and draws back the plunger.
I just need to tell you. This scene is meant to be a little disjointed so the lack of flow is mostly deliberate. Misty has just come out of a heavy sleep after a little more than a week. So she is feeling beyond loopy, and Luke is trying so hard to get into her head, but what he doesn’t know is that she has experience with something called a Mind Smith from her time at TTH - back on Telera - the place she was running away from.
Okay no more spoilers.
I just need a few more clicks and you all get the rest of the chapter next week. Make me proud, would you?
Please!
J*
As an anti-labelist and hypocrite, I really like labels, especially labels that have descriptive value. Mind-Smith is very good. It gives an idea of what they do, coupled with what abilities you have revealed so far from Luke, I'm excited to find out more!
Another excellent chapter section. You write so well that I got what you were trying to do. Having had anesthesia before, you described it almost perfectly.
I like the little things you create. Mind-Smith: An evil scum sucking monster that digs into the brain and forces a person to do their bidding.