Hidden Faults (10 page)

“
He
what
?”

I forced myself to sit down, having half-risen in my anger. Kregan remained as calm as ever. “Jodi, he can make whatever charge he wants. He still has to prove it. For now, it has to be placed in the hands of Internal Oversight. I’ll be making a report as well.”

“They’re threatening prisoners! Did you know about that?”

The lowering brows became thunderous. “Stop and think what you just insinuated, doctor.”

“
I...I’m sorry, sir. But
someone
knows it’s going on.”

“
If
it’s going on,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “I truly have no choice about this, Jodi. I’ll see if I can get Haban to calm down, but you’d have done better to ask my assistance in this matter before unilaterally deciding a subject was unsuitable.”

“Sir, the ethical oversight is my responsibility. I was following protocols.”

“Perhaps. I can’t comment further. You need to go home, and I expect the report before end of day.”

“Yes, sir. Sir—if...if he wins, what happens to me?”

He looked at me with sympathy in his bicoloured eyes. “I’ll do what I can to assist you, Jodi, as I would any of my team. But if the committee agrees with Haban’s assessment, then you’ll face consequences.” He stood up. “Go home. I’ll check in with you tomorrow. Things will move quickly, we can’t afford for another hiatus in this trial.”

“No, sir.”

Numbly I got to my feet and went to the door. As soon as I opened it, a guard sprang to attention.

“Officer, escort Arwe Jodimai from the building, and arrange a lift home,” Kregan ordered. “Arwe Jodimai, remember what I said.”

“Yes, sir.”

There was no way out of the building that didn’t take me past staff. There was no way people wouldn’t stare, and for sure, some of them would already have heard some garbled form of the story. At reception, Ajeile stood as if to speak to me, but I put my finger to my lips, so she sat down, her eyes worried. I appreciated her concern, but I didn’t want to talk to anyone about this, even without Kregan’s injunction.

Once I’d been dropped off at home, I went straight to my viewcom and began to fling the words down, desperate to do so while events were still fresh and clear in my mind. Then I forced myself to let it lie for an hour while I calmed down. Kregan had a strong dislike of emotional displays—which would count against Haban—but an equally strong dislike of people causing disruption to the section’s work. But it was he who’d taught me the practical side of research ethics, far more than I had ever learned at the Academy. He would never have allowed prisoners to be used in these trials if they’d been forced. He had enough misgivings, so he’d said more than once, about using them at all.

I drank two mugs of khevai before I returned to the report. I edited it and edited it until I was sure it was as accurate and cool as I could make it, then I sent it. Then all I could do was wait.

The sudden cessation of responsibility, of any task to occupy myself, made the reality come crashing in. Even if Haban couldn’t prove his case, the very fact charges had been brought would be a black mark against me. It would be enough for Kregan to remove me—it would be enough for people above him to insist he did. If Rotinwe had told the truth the first time, then someone was forcing prisoners to participate in these trials. It seemed unlikely the prison staff were doing that altruistically. Was it corruption? A bounty being paid for participants? Or someone in the government desperate for our gene therapy to work? None of the possibilities offered any comfort.

I badly wanted to talk to Timo about this now, but Kregan couldn’t have been any clearer about the consequences of doing so. Even if I didn’t care about my own career—which I did—I had no right to endanger Timo’s, or Timo himself, or his family.

My thoughts chased themselves around and around like baby barchins in a field, and to as much purpose. Finally I decided I had two choices—stay at home and get drunk, which had become more of a habit than I cared for, or go out for a long walk and try and clear my head. Knowing I might be under observation meant I couldn’t go looking for casual sex to relieve some of the stress, but I doubted it would help enough to be worth the risk.

The weather had turned much colder, and there would be snow by the weekend. The frigid, biting air was a welcome distraction from the confusion in my brain, but I still shivered in my heavy coat and warm cap. I was supposed to be escaping from the winter for three weeks of sun-soaked debauchery, but that might not happen if things didn’t get sorted out soon.

It was a steep climb back up into the city proper. My path took me past the Low Town, but though I thought longingly of the peace and acceptance I would find there, I simply dared not risk it.

Even the cutting wind couldn’t stop me churning over this disaster. The problem with walking through a city I knew so well was that I didn’t have to think about what I was doing. I might have been better off going for a run, but it was close to dark and, with a splitting headache and a stomach that had been knotting and unknotting for hours, the idea didn’t appeal. Would I feel better for a meal? I hadn’t eaten for some time, and nothing more than a snack. I wasn’t hungry, but I wanted a beer or something stronger, and that wouldn’t be wise on an empty stomach. I was in enough trouble without being found drunk and incapable in the streets.

I’d now reached the wealthier end of town, but I couldn’t face walking into one of the restaurants where I’d have happily gone with Timo. I wanted something less formal, more accepting, more anonymous. Like a bar.

I headed south again, remembering a place I’d gone to a couple of times when I graduated, just started my job in Kregan’s department. I had no idea if it still operated, but I let my memory guide my feet, and soon I found myself in front of the place. The bar looked much as I remembered it—the street dirtier than I recalled, the building a little shabbier with the paintwork peeling and one of the advertising lights broken.

I belatedly realised that hanging around here after dark could be nearly as risky as walking through one of the central city gardens, and was about to turn away, when the door opened and a rush of heat, light and friendly sounds spilled out towards me. Suddenly it seemed precisely what I needed, so I waited for the outgoing customers to pass, and went inside.

Music was playing, produced by real musicians, not a recording, and now I remembered it had been that which had drawn me to the bar the first time. The unassuming frontage concealed a large and crowded interior, the patrons, all concentrated at the back of the room near the performers, clearly there for the music. A small area had been set off to one side for customers to sit and eat a meal. I found a table easily—the music of more interest to most than the food—and gave an order from the limited menu to the waitress who came up as soon as my backside hit the chair. I sat back, letting the lively sounds, warm, beer-scented fug, and company of people to whom I owed nothing, take my attention away from my woes.

The folksy familiar music did more to relax me than the beer or even the decent, filling meat stew with the thick cut bread. By the time I’d finished a mug of hot spiced beer, I felt a bit more sanguine. If I lost this job, I had other options, even if I couldn’t work for a government department. I could teach, I could work in one of the hospitals, and if clinical practice didn’t suit, with my training I could apply to medical research labs operating all over the country. I could even apply for work in Darsino, possibly Dindornes, but that would mean leaving Pindone, probably for good. Leaving my family—which would still hurt despite the current hostilities—and leaving friends.

Leaving Timo, which would be like losing an arm.

Marra’s balls, I wished I could talk to him right now.

The waitress cleared my plates, and I asked for a second mug of beer. The dining area was filling up, and I should have really moved, but I was comfortable, and I might want something else to eat in a bit, so I stayed put. The beer arrived as the musicians started another set. I wrapped my hands around the hot mug, and felt no inclination to leave.

“Hey—d’you mind me sharing your table or is the seat taken?”

I looked up. A smiling dark-haired man, holding a mug of steaming beer, pointed at the chair opposite me. I waved dismissively. “Go ahead.”

“Thanks.” He sat down and grinned. “Great set tonight, don’t you think?”

“They’re good, but I’ve never heard them before.”

The waitress interrupted long enough for him to order food—stew and bread, same as me—and then he answered, “They’re the regulars. You’re new here?”

“Not really.” I already regretted offering him the seat, and contemplated moving to the standing area near the musicians, but then he smiled again, and I decided not to. “I came here a long time ago. Remembered it as a good place to have a quiet drink.” Probably too subtle for him, but worth a try.

“Not very quiet tonight...or did you mean me? Sorry, I’m chatty.”

Another big grin—he had lovely white teeth, and enormous, soppy eyes which didn’t go with his rather masculine features.

“I’m Tek,” he said.

“Jodi.” He held out his hand and I shook it—hmmm, the calloused hand of a workman, or a labourer. Not an office worker—he fitted in here better than I did in my tailored clothes and expensive coat. “You come here a lot then?”

“On and off.” He sipped his beer and then looked me over rather thoughtfully. “You look a bit pissed off at life.”

“Just...some work hassles.”

“Oh. What do you do? Public servant? Push paper around all day?”

“I’m a doctor, if you must know. You’re being rather nosy.”

“Yeah, I am. Can’t help it. It’s my worst habit, everyone tells me that.” He grinned again, completely unbothered by negative opinions. I couldn’t help smiling back. “So, what happened? You kill someone?”

My smile disappeared. “Is that your idea of a
joke
?”

“Um, yeah? Sorry—”

“I didn’t kill anyone. Enjoy your beer.” Furious, and my skin prickling a little with cold fear, I got up but found his hand clamped to my wrist. I jerked in panic, but I couldn’t free myself. “Let go or I’ll call Security.”

“No, don’t do that. Sit down, Jodi.” He was no longer smiling either. “Sit.”

I obeyed, somewhat to my surprise, though my heart thudded in rising fright.

“
Who the hell are you?” I growled at him. “Are you following me? Are you Internal Oversight?” He still had his hand on my wrist. “Let
go
of me.”

No one had noticed our struggle, but if he persisted, I’d make sure they did.

He still wouldn’t release me. “Jodi, you need to calm down and shut up.”

Neither order had any effect on me. “Who the hell are you?”

Why hadn’t I called for help? He stared up at me, willing me to shut up—and it worked. Why did it work?

As I tried—and failed—to make sense of this sudden, alarming turn of events, the waitress arrived. My unwanted companion set my wrist free but for some reason, it didn’t occur to me to get up and walk away while she distracted him. What the hell was going on? Who was he?

She left us alone again, and he fixed me with his dark eyes. “I’m a friend. I mean you no harm. How’s your headache?”

Confusion warred with fear as I gaped at him. “My...how did you know?” My head still throbbed, though it had eased a little after I’d eaten.

“I just do. Fuck it, I’m gonna....”

He seemed to be talking to himself, and I realised he was more than a little nuts, though perhaps not as threatening as I’d thought before. Still, I’d had enough. I made to get up but he held up a hand and I froze, quite against my will. The fear which had abated, roared back and all I wanted was to escape, to flee what this man could do to me.

“No. Jodi, wait.”

I had to get away from this lunatic
now
, but invisible bonds held me tight. Realising the trap, I panicked, my heart thumping as I struggled desperately but fruitlessly, trying to make my legs move—

Suddenly the table erupted into flames, covering our plates, rising up and licking the ceiling. The bonds on me loosened immediately, but I couldn’t move, horrified by what emerged coming from my hands, a dangerous, uncontrollable blaze streaming from my fingers. I was on fire, yet there was no pain. What the hell was happening?

Tek jumped back, falling off his chair to the floor as people started to scream. I flapped my hands, flicking them away from my body, trying to extinguish the damning flames, trying to get them away from me before anyone else could see them.

“Stop it. Make it stop. Help me!” Tek frantically shook his head, as appalled as I was. “No! It’s not me!” I yelled as people ran from the sight of the incriminating fire.

Customers fled in all directions, Tek the only one who stayed, but as someone approached, he glanced at them, then scrambled to his feet. “I’m sorry, Jodi. I can’t help you.”

Why did I stand here surrounded by fire? I screamed in panic, for help, but then freezing vapour suddenly enveloped me, blinding me, choking me.