glasses, and jabbed two centimeters left of the smudge with an elbow.
She jumped. He winced and resumed walking along the wall, rubbing his elbow.
She stared after him for a moment, then ran to catch up. "What was—?"
They stepped around an external support for the building, and she spotted a door where one wasn't in the blueprints.
Hector went right up to it, casually gave a quick rap with the back of his hand, then opened it. He glanced back and jerked his chin to say Go on , and she slipped past him.
He followed, and the door shut, sealed, and melded into the wall behind him. Wynne stared.
"Bi-metal. That's one name for it, anyway. It has two shapes, and it hops between one and the other when the proper impulse goes through it." He smiled, evidently pleased. "I'm not supposed to be able to modify its settings."
"How…?"
Hector shrugged. "Only telekins make it, so I assume there's some special aspect to it that can't be accounted for by conventional physics."
Wynne blinked blankly, then glanced around, realizing they were in the 'private' section of this particular habitat… and it felt like someone's private garden. She looked to Hector. He went to one small plant she didn't recognize, tore off a leaf, and stuck it in his mouth. He didn't chew, just held it on his tongue.
His garden?
He indicated the plant. "Peppermint?"
She shook her head.
He accepted that with ease. "Good for headaches."
Wynne bit her lip, then decided to go ahead and take the opening. "I give you headaches?"
Hector snorted and shook his head — more as if his answer didn't matter, rather than denying altogether that she caused him pain.
He seemed… relaxed, more so than he usually was. It was less unnerving than the earlier cheer, because this felt more real — but that reality was itself disconcerting, because it meant he trusted her.
"That rumor's true, then?" That the private sections of the habitats were free from all surveillance.
"Which…?" He glanced at her in inquiry. "You can speak, here. This one's mine."
Wynne bit her lip, reluctant out of habit. "Are you sure it's… safe?"
"Yes," he answered, without hesitation. "As I said, this is my area, my… territory, as it were. They make sure to assign safe zones to…" He grimaced. "To those like me."
But what are you? she wondered.
"Gives us somewhere safe to unwind, after…" He glanced away, adjusted his stance and glasses. "I'd prefer if you speak, when you can. Less of a headache that way."
So she did cause him headaches. "The psychic stuff makes your head hurt?"
"Psychic?" He sounded faintly amused. "I'm not meant to be a reader. I'm more a…" His expression tightened. "I'd rather not say."
Two years earlier, their instructor had said, 'I'm sure you could kill me with that brain of yours,' and Hector had admitted to knowing he'd eventually be able to sleep, after he killed someone. Wynne could guess where his talents lay.
"That's all right," she said quietly.
"Thanks." He stared at the ceiling, which had ivy growing over it. "My father wants me to seduce you."
She glanced around at their private, off-the-grid surroundings. "I'd rather not be seduced, if you don't mind."
He nodded, still staring up and not looking at her. "The alternative is that they'll make you like me, and that can break a mind. I'll be in bad shape myself, soon enough. I don't want to… Sorry." He glanced at her and away — a little guiltily, she thought. "I don't suppose you'll forget I said that?"
"Why would they break you?" she asked instead. "Because you won't seduce me?" And why were 'they' so desperate? She and Hector had just reached Dyad.
Hector sighed, shaking his head. He looked away, red tingeing his cheeks as if he was embarrassed to tell her, "The genegineering used on me is known to cause fairly rapid degeneration, after adolescence. My grandfather's alive, you know. He just hasn't been able to walk since around Tetrad. He tends to stay in his…" Hector indicated the
She jumped. He winced and resumed walking along the wall, rubbing his elbow.
She stared after him for a moment, then ran to catch up. "What was—?"
They stepped around an external support for the building, and she spotted a door where one wasn't in the blueprints.
Hector went right up to it, casually gave a quick rap with the back of his hand, then opened it. He glanced back and jerked his chin to say Go on , and she slipped past him.
He followed, and the door shut, sealed, and melded into the wall behind him. Wynne stared.
"Bi-metal. That's one name for it, anyway. It has two shapes, and it hops between one and the other when the proper impulse goes through it." He smiled, evidently pleased. "I'm not supposed to be able to modify its settings."
"How…?"
Hector shrugged. "Only telekins make it, so I assume there's some special aspect to it that can't be accounted for by conventional physics."
Wynne blinked blankly, then glanced around, realizing they were in the 'private' section of this particular habitat… and it felt like someone's private garden. She looked to Hector. He went to one small plant she didn't recognize, tore off a leaf, and stuck it in his mouth. He didn't chew, just held it on his tongue.
His garden?
He indicated the plant. "Peppermint?"
She shook her head.
He accepted that with ease. "Good for headaches."
Wynne bit her lip, then decided to go ahead and take the opening. "I give you headaches?"
Hector snorted and shook his head — more as if his answer didn't matter, rather than denying altogether that she caused him pain.
He seemed… relaxed, more so than he usually was. It was less unnerving than the earlier cheer, because this felt more real — but that reality was itself disconcerting, because it meant he trusted her.
"That rumor's true, then?" That the private sections of the habitats were free from all surveillance.
"Which…?" He glanced at her in inquiry. "You can speak, here. This one's mine."
Wynne bit her lip, reluctant out of habit. "Are you sure it's… safe?"
"Yes," he answered, without hesitation. "As I said, this is my area, my… territory, as it were. They make sure to assign safe zones to…" He grimaced. "To those like me."
But what are you? she wondered.
"Gives us somewhere safe to unwind, after…" He glanced away, adjusted his stance and glasses. "I'd prefer if you speak, when you can. Less of a headache that way."
So she did cause him headaches. "The psychic stuff makes your head hurt?"
"Psychic?" He sounded faintly amused. "I'm not meant to be a reader. I'm more a…" His expression tightened. "I'd rather not say."
Two years earlier, their instructor had said, 'I'm sure you could kill me with that brain of yours,' and Hector had admitted to knowing he'd eventually be able to sleep, after he killed someone. Wynne could guess where his talents lay.
"That's all right," she said quietly.
"Thanks." He stared at the ceiling, which had ivy growing over it. "My father wants me to seduce you."
She glanced around at their private, off-the-grid surroundings. "I'd rather not be seduced, if you don't mind."
He nodded, still staring up and not looking at her. "The alternative is that they'll make you like me, and that can break a mind. I'll be in bad shape myself, soon enough. I don't want to… Sorry." He glanced at her and away — a little guiltily, she thought. "I don't suppose you'll forget I said that?"
"Why would they break you?" she asked instead. "Because you won't seduce me?" And why were 'they' so desperate? She and Hector had just reached Dyad.
Hector sighed, shaking his head. He looked away, red tingeing his cheeks as if he was embarrassed to tell her, "The genegineering used on me is known to cause fairly rapid degeneration, after adolescence. My grandfather's alive, you know. He just hasn't been able to walk since around Tetrad. He tends to stay in his…" Hector indicated the
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