The Human Thing by Kathleen H. Nelson

Author:Kathleen H. Nelson [Nelson, Kathleen H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Cyborgs, Suspense
ISBN: 1896944728
Publisher: Dragon Moon Press
Published: 1999-03-15T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Jillian came awake with a mental gasp to find herself sprawled belly-down on the floor. She couldn’t say how she had gotten there. The last thing she remembered was—

Fire!

An stark echo of fear gusted through her, baring memories like half-buried bodies: shots of kluur, a dance with Ammas, a man bursting into flames. Shitshitshit. Even now, this far after the fact, she couldn’t bring herself to re-visualize that moment. She was too afraid of triggering another of those devastating episodes. Fire! No wonder she’d been in so much pain. All of hell had taken up residence in her head.

It wasn’t her head that was bothering her now, though, but rather a creeping sense of mortification. She felt like a drunk after her third or fourth black-out—she didn’t want to admit that something might be wrong, but it sure fit the pattern. Now suddenly seemed like a very good time to apologize to her hosts, pay for any damages done, and get the hell out of Xamar. So she flipped herself over and then snapped to her feet. To her surprise, she found herself surrounded by wary-eyed priests. The rest of the hall was deserted.

“Where’d everybody go?” she said, voicing her first thought aloud.

The nearest priest turned his back to her without saying a word. His companions did the same. Jillian’s mortification soured into dread. No doubt remained—she’d done something. Something wrong enough to clear a room. Sweet, suffering mother. And she didn’t have to tiptoe too far back into the minefields of her memory before that something clicked. The crazy bastard, the one who’d torched himself—she’d attacked him. Killed him, for all she knew. But even as she shouldered the awful responsibility of the crime, a feral voice within her spurned it. He was on fire. He had to die.

She tapped a priest on the back. “How’s that man? Is he going to be all right?”

He didn’t answer, but someone else did—someone who was just now stepping into the room. “If you mean Bo,” Micca said, “he wasn’t breathing when you finally let him go. Fortunately, Elyn is a master of her gift.”

“I’m truly glad he’s going to live,” Jillian said, as the priestess approached. “And before you kick me out of here, I’d very much like to apologize to him as well as to you, Saj, Tark, and Ammas.”

“We have no use for your apology, offworlder,” Micca told her. “And you aren’t going anywhere until you’ve answered to H’Nath.” She split the circle of priests into two groups with one gesture, then beckoned to Jillian with the next. “Now come, the tribunal awaits you. Do not try to resist. We can force your compliance.”

“I have no intention of resisting,” Jillian said.

The squadron of priests escorted her to the adjudicators’ table. The lord of Xamar and his two kinsmen were already seated there. All three had a betrayed look about them, although Tark wore it better than the others. Ammas looked heartsick, too, and refused to make eye-contact with her.

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