Chapter 09: The Thorn in His Mind

In a world of hidden powers, Murph confronts to his lover. But as memories resurface, he realizes the real danger may have been within.

Like a predator, I leapt out from among the lush greenery of the potted plants. Bursting into the quiet, succulent-filled courtyard, I shattered their moment of calm.

"What's going on?" I demanded.

Jessalyn spun round, her dark hair framing large eyes that held secrets. "It's not what it looks like," she said, flashing a cheeky grin.

"No?" said the other man, his eyebrows raised. Living through this memories again, I saw it. Something in his posture, a tension that hadn't been there before.

My entrance changed the energy of the enclosed space as I stalked up toward them. The lights flickered and hummed as I drew on powers invisible to the unaided eye, my djinn chuckled in my mind.

"Don't make a scene now," he said, a smirk lingering on his face as the atmosphere shifted from peaceful to tense. The air crackled with unspoken tensions.

"Why not?" I said, drawing the moment out.

"Murph, cut it out!" Zeke shouted from the kitchen, ‘You’re going to ruin dinner!”

Gabe couldn't help but grin then, his smile lighting up his boyish good looks. I leaned in and kissed him, drawing him close and holding onto his tall wiry strength. But even as I did, a part of me wondered at the slight tremor in his frame.

Jess punched me in the shoulder, "Hey! Me first, always me first!" Playfully possessive.

I turned and obliged her with a longer, lingering kiss. She pulled in closer and squeezed me, and I couldn't help but wince in pain.

I remembered that pain, a trivial thing, but nonetheless was clear. A pale candle compared to the bonfire to come. She didn’t mean to, of course. She never meant to cause pain, but then neither did he.

As Syn replayed this old memory for me, my attention was originally focused on Jessalyn. But my conscious mind suddenly shifted to Gabe, and I felt a strong sense of déjà vu. Suspicion flooded my system, powered by a conflicting sense of danger, as echoes of past trauma resurfaced.

What happened, Gabe? What did you do?

"You're hurt?" she noticed and stepped back. Her brown eyes narrowed into her stern teacher's look, a vestige of a life before embezzled funds and gang violence shuttered the doors of her school for good.

"It's nothing," past me said, trying to reassure her.

I, rewatching these old memories, strained to look at Gabe in the blurred periphery of my vision, desperate to understand what I seemed to feel.

A firm hand turned me from her, and there he was in center focus.

"Let me look," he said, his voice carrying an undercurrent of concern.

"It can wait, Gabe," I said, not wanting to be parted from her then. The pull was always strongest with her. I loved them both; I remembered that clearly now, just as their faces brought back shared histories, dreams, and... something else. Something darker.

I remembered finding her, the brilliant teacher and impassioned ideologue, standing on a box ranting at passersby. Trying to convince them of the madness around them, to break them from their augmented realities and corporate-guided lives. They ignored her, parting around her like a river around a rock.

But I couldn't.

I was drawn to her, although I'd never believed in love at first sight. With her it felt true. She'd been with Gabe when I met her, but they'd both welcomed me in. A new graft growing on and with a much older tree.

"No," he said, gesturing with his hand above his head, "With the kak in the air and the grime on every corner, you've probably caught three or four secondary infections. Come," he said.

"He's right, you know. Go," said Jessalyn as she moved out of my grasp. "I'll get you something to eat." She smiled and slipped out of the courtyard.

And in a moment, I heard Zeke moan to her about trying to cook while the stove shorted and sparked. Her reply was indistinct, but I heard the soft melody of her laugh.

Again, the twist in my gut at something happy. Why? Syn, what's going on?

<Wait, you will see.> she said, and then no more.

Her silence drew on while the memory continued, not waiting for us to witness it. A sim drawn from my own fractured memories. Syn was in control of what we saw, and at that moment, I doubted the wisdom of that. Not a clear thought, nothing spoken out loud, but an echo, an instinct of mistrust flared within me.

Turning back to the vision, Gabe shepherded me now into the tiny storeroom that we had refitted as a mini field hospital. Medication and supplies hid the walls, and there was barely enough space for the gurney. I glanced at the jumbled mix of supplies, some expiration dates well past, and others brand new. There was little likelihood any of this was acquired legally.

The world we lived in and the choices we had to make, the well-worn thought came to mind. A saying perhaps I had used often.

Gabe cleaned his hands and pulled on gloves. "Sit," he said with a quiet firmness I knew not to fight. He motioned for the table, and I climbed onboard.

Adrift in this vision, I finally broke from my numb confusion and felt deep within that I should have noticed. The first time when I still could have done something. Even amidst the joy of being back with them, a safe return, and the naive contentment of finally having a home. Even then, I should have seen the thorn in his mind, the invasive growth taking hold.

Past me sat there and looked into his eyes, luxuriating in his concern at my latest injuries. He tutted and frowned, but he knew I was the tip of our spear, and that came at a price.

I should have noticed.

He didn't hold my gaze but broke off early, unable to let me stare into him. An ambiguous moment that could easily have been annoyance at my jovial disregard for injuries, my arrogant invincibility, or my lone wolf attitude. It could have been a reaction to any of those or something else. But it wasn't, as I looked at him now.

In the present my gut dropped away, and I felt the wave of guilt and despair flood in. The emotions held back by madness, now unhindered, flooded back into my mind like the tumult of a broken dam. They now washed away the remembered joy and left confusion and despair in their place.

The tender touch and the professional speed with which he stitched and sutured, making right what the world had rent. His knuckles shone white through the gloves, and his hands trembled ever so slightly. Things I missed the first time, and as I looked around for signs, I saw the sheen on his brow, the faint patina of sweat on a cool morning. An internal fight was being lost, and I didn't notice.

His struggle was so clear this time.

Gabe asked me something, and I replied, "I'm fine." He took off the gloves and threw them away, squeezed my shoulder and left.

But I thought, Are you okay?

I pushed that hopeless thought at him, a thought from another time, one far too late to do any good.

Because now I saw the first seeds of doom so plainly on his face, and the pain in my chest only grew and grew. As the memory faded, I was left with a chilling realization: something had changed, something was wrong, and I had been too blind to see it. The world outside our little peach-coloured home was a dangerous place, but the real threat might have been lurking much closer to home all along.