Mindline by M.C.A. Hogarth

Author:M.C.A. Hogarth [Hogarth, M.C.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, new adult
Publisher: M.C.A. Hogarth
Published: 2017-06-19T04:00:00+00:00

Once they'd trooped out, Vasiht'h backed away from the bed and sat heavily, rubbing his face. "We need a plan."

Cautious optimism, like too much rain on tender flowers that bent beneath the strain. It was a pretty image, but it reminded Vasiht'h too much of his roommate's nightmares of gardens, back when they'd been on Seersana. Which seemed very long ago right now. "A plan?"

"Yes," Vasiht'h said. "If we're going to do this, we need a plan. One that gives us a way to back out gracefully before something else happens."

He waited, hoping for something from Jahir because Aksivaht'h knew he didn't have any thoughts. Unfortunately, if the empty weight hanging between them was any indication, the Eldritch was as short on ideas as he was. They met one another's eyes and acknowledged the implication of that quiet, and Vasiht'h looked away with a sigh.

"Arii," Jahir said. "You know it is not my intention to perish here."

"Are you sure?" Vasiht'h asked with asperity. And then held up his hands, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just… I don't… these past two days.…"

"I know," Jahir said, solemn.

It was that solemnity that pierced Vasiht'h's desperate fears. "You meant it," he said slowly. "About the promise."

"I did."

"Because I… I've never heard you promise anything unless you were going to do it," Vasiht'h continued, and frowned, searching the past two years of their friendship. "Come to think of it, I don't know if I can count on my hands the number of times you've ever said anything that could be construed as a promise."

Strange that he could feel the heat of someone else's blush in his own skin. Jahir cleared his throat and said, "It isn't done. Or shouldn't be, unless one is willing to make good on one's word."

"Then if I make you promise to back out if things get too bad.…"

"Without defining the conditions that meet that criterion, I am not sure you would be content with the words."

"Like dealing with a fairy king, is that what you're saying?" Vasiht'h asked, and started laughing at the look on Jahir's face. The taste in the mindline was even funnier: lemonade with not enough sugar.

"You have those stories?" Jahir asked.

"No, but the humans do, and we're all descendants," Vasiht'h said, grinning. He sobered when he remembered what they were joking about. "By my standards, the conditions are already bad enough."

"Then perhaps we should base the decision on aught else. Like, perhaps, success?"

"And if there is no success?" Vasiht'h asked. "What if we never figure out how to heal these people? What if there's no healing them? People die. Drugs certainly kill them. Even legal ones, given in the wrong combinations."

"Success might also be our helping the authorities find the purveyor of these drugs."

"We're not detectives, arii," Vasiht'h said, ears flattening. "Goddess, you don't even know how a society like this works, most of the time. You're a true-alien here." A twinge in the mindline—disagreement? He rode over it anyway.

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