Threshold Shift (8 page)
“Another
save,” Jacob said. “Thanks son.”
Jon
examined the wound. “Let’s get Doctor Forbes to look at
that.”
“It’ll
be all right,” Jacob said. “Stop fussing, you’re
worse than your mother.”
There
was a moment of awkward silence. He had not heard his father mention
his mother for a long time.
“Come
on,” Jacob said. “We need to get back to the jail before
any more Threshians decide to come out of the woodwork.”
“Lean
on me,” Jon said.
His
father nodded and put an arm around Jon’s shoulders, letting
the younger man take his weight.
“You
have to stop getting shot,” Jon said.
“How
many were there?” Jacob asked.
“Three.”
“I
could have taken them.”
“Dad,
they were after you,” Jon said. “They weren’t even
interested in me.”
“I’m
honoured,” Jacob said. “But they were awful shots weren’t
they?”
He
laughed painfully, and Jon found himself laughing too.
“Opportunists,”
Jacob said. “That’s all. They didn’t plan it,
probably just followed us from the jail and took their chance. Bunch
of second rate amateurs.”
Jon
found himself thinking about the enigmatic man behind the blue door.
“What
about Asher Smith?” He asked. “Did he have something to
do with it?”
As
they emerged into Main Street, Jon was aware of a few odd looks, but
otherwise the townspeople did their best to ignore them. Jon didn’t
feel like asking for help anyway.
“Don’t
be ridiculous,” Jacob said. “That’s not Asher’s
style.”
“Tell
me about him.”
“There
you go again,” Jacob replied weakly. “Asher this, Asher
that.”
“Dad?”
“Are
we there yet?” Jacob asked, the words slurring into each other.
“Almost,”
Jon replied. ”It’s just a little bit further.”
Jacob
closed his eyes, and his head tipped backwards. Jon felt more and
more of his father’s weight on his shoulder. The man could
barely walk. Jon redoubled his efforts. It wasn’t much further,
he could see the steps.
“I’m
sorry about your mother,” Jacob said randomly. “Did I
ever say that? I don’t think I did.”
Jon
shook his head and smiled. “I knew.”
Jacob
lay in his bed shivering in his own sweat. Roe had provided extra
blankets, but it made no difference. He was cold. Half an hour ago he
had attempted to stand, or was it an hour ago? It didn’t
matter. He hadn’t been able to. Time passed as an obscure
buzzing in his ear and whenever he opened his eyes the world moved
haphazardly of its own accord. Closing his hand around the memory
disc hanging from his neck he found it slick within his palm. Very
soon he would have to give it to Jon. Letting go, his hand drifted
down towards the site of his latest wound, tightly bound by Doctor
Forbes.
“There’s
nothing more I can do,” Forbes had pronounced.
Jacob
recalled the old physician standing over him, removing his gloves.
Jon and Roe were somewhere close by, but he couldn’t see them.
“The
Jopo I gave him has run its course and whatever he was doing to stave
off withdrawal, it’s not working anymore. It’s only a
matter of time.”
Of
course it wasn’t working anymore. He had only survived by
exercising intense concentration, holding back the worst chemical
reactions with the power of his mind. The ricochet had changed that,
weakened his will to the point where he could hold back those
reactions no longer. Forbes watered down Jopo H had helped, of course
it had helped, but only because he could help himself. No normal man
could have done it, but then again Jacob Klein wasn’t exactly
normal. Absently he wondered how much longer he could last. Did he
even want to try?
His
thoughts were interrupted by an intruder in his mind.
Jacob.
“Go
away,” he said aloud. “I do not give you permission.”
Oh
come now, Jacob, I am not going anywhere. We are long overdue for a
conversation, you and I.
-
Get out of my head, Asher. It’s private.
I
do not care, little brother.
Jacob
buried his head in a pillow, as if that could somehow block out the
psychic noise. He had been foolish to re-open the link and now he was
far too weak to close it.
-
You hurt me, Asher, with those stupid telekinetic tricks.
You
gave me little choice, Jacob, coming in waving your gun around like
that. It was very adolescent of you, especially as you knew I would
not be armed.
-
You knew I wouldn’t shoot you, Ash.
I
hoped you would not, but you have been away for a long time.
Jacob
turned over, wrapping himself more deeply in the bedclothes.
-
So what’s happening at home then, how is Wun?
He
is... separate.
-
You’re finding it difficult then? It’s not what you
imagined is it?
It
is not me we are discussing, little brother. Tell me, why did you not
come back?
-
Hang around for a while and you’ll find out.
You
should have returned, Jacob, your report was required.
-
I got used to being me, Ash. I had no intention of sacrificing that.
But
now you are dying.
-
I look forward to it. At least I’ll die as me. Anyway, I don’t
recall dying before. It will be a new experience.
I
could save you. Even now my energy is helping you to think to me more
clearly. I have more than enough energy to spare.
-
No thanks, I appreciate the sentiment, but, please, let it take me,
so I can die like humans do. Let there be an end.
Everything
you have seen will be lost, I will not allow that.
-
We still die, Ash.
We
are reduced. It is not the same as dying.
-
Whatever… just leave me alone. Respect my wishes.
You
still have not told me why.
-
I had a family, surely that tells you enough? You must remember what
that’s like?
Procreation
is unnecessary, but the results were not without value. Your son
called me here.
-
I know.
I
was surprised by his power. The distance is too great, even for me. I
am curious as to what else he is capable of.
-
Please, leave him alone.
No,
Jacob.
-
He has never been a part of Wun. I’d like to keep it that way.
What
can you offer in exchange?
-
What do you mean?
The
Threshian, Paul, you have him in custody, Arrange his release and I
promise to leave Jon alone. It can be your last act.
Jacob
opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. He could almost focus
on the cracks.
-
I’m almost tempted, but I took on a responsibility to uphold
the law.
By
your own admission you will be dead soon, what will Jon do then? The
Threshians will destroy him long before Paul can be shipped off
planet. Is your son's life not more important?
Jacob
kicked the sodden bedclothes onto the floor and tried to sit up, the
new bandage biting into his gut with the attempt. He tried to ignore
the pain; push past it, before realising there was an alternative.
-
Not everything I feel has to be lost.
What
do you mean?
-
Share my pain.
With
that thought Jacob released his agony across the link. He could only
guess at Asher’s shock. It had been a long time since his
brother had experienced any physical anguish. For a moment the mental
link between them flared with sensory data, and then disconnected.
Jacob was willing to bet that Asher had willingly severed it. He
expected his brother would have a few lines on his new face after
that. Experience had that effect.
Taking
a deep breath Jacob realised that some of his old strength had
returned. Even with the link terminated, Asher had given him a small
portion of energy, enough to even stand. Slowly he struggled to his
feet, leaning against the bedstead as the room swayed from side to
side around him. It reminded him of being at sea, and he had never
been a good sailor. But this time there was no side to vomit over and
the wall had to do. He felt better afterwards.
“Jon!” he shouted. “Roe, come up here now.”
He wrenched open the door and staggered outside, almost tipping down
the stairs.
“Dad?”
Jon shouted back.
Jacob
saw his son standing at the foot of the staircase. He grinned, and
then went tumbling down.
The
world turned black.
“Dad,”
Jon said.
Jacob
felt his son’s cool palm on his forehead, a palm, crackling
with energy. It was tempting to drain off some of that energy just as
he had done before. But this time he did not, he had no right. “Jon,”
he smiled. “Son.”
“You
shouldn’t be out of bed,” Jon said. “You’ve
hurt yourself.”
“Too
far gone anyway,” Jacob replied. “But you still need me,
Threshold needs me.”
“Roe
and I can take care of it,” Jon said, attempting to lift him.
“Roe, get over here.”
Jacob
pulled off the memory disc from around his neck and offered it to
Jon. “Take this.”
Jon
peered down. “What is it?”
“A
failsafe,” Jacob explained. “If I die, you are authorised
to create a sim using this disc. Threshold needs a Marshal.”
Jon
eyed the disc with disgust. “No, I don’t think so. You
keep it.”
Roe
appeared at his other side. “Give it to me,” she said.
“You
can’t,” Jon objected.
She
ignored him, and gathered up the disc and chain in her hands. “You
can rely on me Jacob.”
Jacob
smiled weakly. “Don’t wait,” he said. “We
could be attacked at any time. You need me at your side.”
“OK,
Dad,” Jon replied with an angry glance at Roe. “But right
now we need to get you back upstairs.”
Jacob
closed his eyes, and let himself be hauled up the stairs. It was a
narrow staircase, and he was vaguely aware of his head bumping
against the banister. It didn’t matter anymore. Finally he sank
back into bed, opening his eyes to see Roe retch in disgust at the
sight of his vomit dripping down the wall.
“Sorry,” he apologised.
“We’ll
take care of it,” Jon said. “Roe, clean that up.”
“What
did your last servant die of?”
“Please.”
Jacob
watched as Roe reluctantly ran downstairs. He looked up at Jon, who
was struggling to keep his composure. “You have to use the
disc, Jon.”
“Don’t
you worry about it, Dad,” Jon replied. “We won’t
need to.”
“If
you use that disc, I can take care of you.”
Jon
turned the extractor fan up to maximum. The room did not smell
pleasant, and with security protocols in place, the plexiglass
windows were barred on both sides. He was a prisoner in his own
personal cell. Roe returned, and he watched her grit her teeth as she
mopped up the vomit.
“I’m
sorry Roe,” he said.
“It’s
all right,” she replied, wiping it away with the sponge.
“I
could have been a better teacher, a better Marshal,” he began.
“But my mind has been distracted lately.”
She
nodded, turning to smile back at him. It was a faint smile,
sympathetic, brave, with just a little disgust. He realised he was
rambling, asking for pity. That was no good, pity would only weaken
her.
“Don’t
worry, Jacob,” she said. “Everything will be fine.”
He
saw her share a look with Jon. She was an awful liar. Jon disappeared
into the bathroom and returned with a glass of water.
“Drink
this,” Jon said, holding the glass to his lips.
Jacob
gulped down a few mouthfuls but choked and coughed it out again. He
pushed the glass away. “Use the disc, Jon,” he said.
“Please.”
Jon
stared into his eyes, and nodded painfully. “OK Dad.”
Jacob
slumped deeply into his pillows.
“We’ll
leave you be,” Jon said. “Come on, Roe.”
Jacob
watched her collect her bucket and sponge and head for the exit. She
barely offered him a backward glance.
“I’ll
check on you in an hour,” Jon said.
Jacob
nodded.
Jon
lingered briefly, taking Jacob’s hand in his own. Jacob smiled
as he felt the reassuring squeeze, and then his son left. He was
alone, and with the door closed, the room seemed to rotate around
him, the acceleration making him feel dizzy. He closed his eyes, or
they closed themselves, they were so heavy, it was an effort to keep
them open anyhow.
Sleep
came quickly.
*
He
dreamt of a man who lived in a prison, the bars splintering sunlight
through the small window high above. The man stared often at that
window, oblivious to all the shouts and insults from the surrounding
cells, ignoring even the loud tirade of the fat cellmate in the bunk
below. He was waiting, simply killing time, the people around him of
no interest whatsoever. He had murdered and he was being punished,
sure to be an old man before he was ever free again. But what was
that freedom worth? He would be empty, empty and alone. He waited
anyway, his eyes on that window, waiting to take his place in the
world again.
Then
something happened he had not expected. They brought their questions,
sitting him and the other prisoners in the cafeteria to answer them.
Endless
questions:
(What
is your favourite colour?)
(What
is your favourite pet?)
Pointless
questions which he answered anyway. The rewards were better food,
more time outside, even limited alcohol. How easily his cooperation
was bought. He was killing time, but he could kill it well and there
was no cost, except to answer more of their questions.