Kitty pt 2 "'I've got something you oughta see'?"
"Uhuh."
"And that was it? That was the message? Hm." Razor, a frigidly beautiful, powerful telepath with a personal space of fifteen feet of pure ice, frowned at her partner. "You trust him?"
"Roadie's never steered me wrong before."
The statuesque, black-haired woman scowled.
"Does that mean you trust him or not?" she said irritably. The smaller woman, a normal, looked up at her, wisps of fine blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail floating around her face, a slender eyebrow quirked in amusement.
"Yes." She said with a deliberate, sarcastic slowness. "I trust him."
"All right then."
The blonde grimaced, muttering: "So glad I've got your approval, madame."
"Don't push it, Baxter."
Special Agent Lenore Baxter laughed at her partner, just this side of taunting.
"Wouldn't dream of it, I don't want my brain fried." She strode towards the elevator that would take them down to the carpark. "I'll drive."
Special Agent Adelaide Anderson - more commonly known as Razor - rolled her icy, saphire-blue eyes, but didn't demur.Lenore slid into the comfortable, leather upholstered seat, settling herself with a happy sigh. The Agency cars were pure sugar compared to the cheap tin boxes she'd driven while she was in the police force. She waited until her partner was in before reaching forwards and flipping the switch on the dash-board that pulled the steering wheel back and out of the way while releasing the neural cable. Lenore pulled the thick, grey cable out of its hidey-hole, plugging it into the small, circular socket on the underside of her wrist. She grinned as she felt the connection between the car and herself snap into place. With a simple mental command she started the engine, then piloted the vehicle smoothly out of the Agency's underground car-park.
They drove along in silence, Lenore relishing the feel of the car through the neural cable, loving the way the sleek machine responded to her slightest thought. She glanced over at her partner; pity that Razor would never be able to experience this. The tall agent was psionic, and cyber-gear - like the neural cable - interfered with psionic ability. Lenore smirked: Razor had no idea what she was missing.'Roadie' was a cyber-technician and electronics specialist, an independent not a wage slave – what used to be called a 'consultant'. He lived and worked in a cramped three room basement flat on the edge of the slums.
Razor scowled at the disintegrating neighbourhood.
"Do all of your contacts infest places like this?"
Lenore ignored the psi and jogged lightly down the short flight of stairs that lead to the tech's basement.Roadie was a bear of a man, tall and broad with a gut that strained the buttons of his checked flannel shirt and hung out over the waistband of his faded jeans. His full, bushy beard was in contrast to his carefully shaved skull. Both of the tech's ears were pierced in multiple places and he had ring through the outer corner of an eyebrow, through his nose and a large rounded silver stud in his tongue. His 'biker-chic' put a lot of people off but Lenore had known him since high-school; she knew Roadie was as soft as butter, all you had to do was look at his gentle brown eyes for confirmation.
"So what have you got for us?" Lenore asked the tech after he quickly ushered them inside, scanned the street then locked the door behind them.
"This." Roadie took the few steps into his work-space, indicating the sagging old couch crammed up against the wall, the only thing in the flat other than his bed and shower that wasn't covered with electronic components.
There was a woman on the couch, asleep or unconscious, covered up to her chin by a threadbare blanket. Lenore moved closer, frowning. It looked like she had cat ears partially hidden by the soft brown hair, and was that fur covering her face?
"One of our local nutters found her unconscious in an alley-way and brought her here." Roadie shook his head. "I've no idea where she came from or who she is."
"Why call us in?" Razor said irritably, "Why not hand her over to the local cops?"
"Two words," Roadie said coolly. "Cortex bomb."
"Jesus!" Lenore gasped, involuntarily stepping away from the woman. Cortex bombs were highly illegal, and dangerous, the small amount of explosive implanted at the base of the neck could easily take out anyone within fifteen feet as it obliterated its intended target. "How did you find that out?"
"I had a medic friend check her over. The scanner picked up a non-biological mass, I ran a diagnostic to find out what it was and - voila! - cortex bomb. Amongst other things."
"Other things?"
"Her vocal chords have been replaced," Roadie ticked them off on his big fingers, "she has a sealed chip socket with - I'm guessing because I couldn't read the software - behavioural modification chips hard-wired in, and I'm pretty sure those bits of hardware are linked to the bomb…"
Lenore frowned, not quite following.
"Why do you think they're behavioural mods?"
"I'm not a hundred percent sure but I reckon this poor bitch is a pet."Urban legends could still raise a shiver even in this jaded society. 'Pet makers', like the 'white slavers' of past times, had a titillating aura of the forbidden about them. Ask anyone about 'pets' and their eyes would go wide with fear or outrage, coloured with a sneaking sexual frisson, as they recounted the tales of people who disappeared without trace, only to be transformed into playthings for the very rich.
Lenore had heard her fair share of the stories, had scoffed at them even as her rational, police trained mind counted the possibility. How many people went missing every year? How many never turned up, alive or in body-bags? The police certainly didn't have the resources to search for all of them, and not everybody could afford a psionic search – and then there were the people who disappeared and had no one to report them missing. It wasn't outside the realms of possibility that some at least found their way to privately funded and protected specialist 'clinics'… It was a disturbing thought. She looked down at the sleeping woman and wondered.
"A pet?" she asked the tech.
"Well just look at her." Roadie gently pulled the blanket down to the woman's waist revealing a shapely, fur-covered body with perfect breasts, "she's a toy; built for sex." He covered her up again.
"Lots of people get animalistic modifications," Lenore reasoned, "look at the bands of kawaii boys and girls. Ears and tails are common as shit, and some can afford the fur as well. Not to mention the prostitutes that have voluntarily been modified. Maybe she's one of those?"
"Modified voluntarily to include a cortex bomb?"
Lenore sighed.
"Yeah, good point." She looked at the woman again. "Did the medic find anything else?"
"She's been raped recently, and Stella said there's evidence of previous attacks, plus traces of some nasty drugs in her system, but other than that she's fairly healthy. She's been looked after, physically at least."
"Is she sedated?"
Roadie nodded his head.
"Mildly. Stella didn't want to add anything much to the cocktail she already had on board." He glanced over the agent's shoulder, then leaned towards Lenore.
"Is your partner gay?" he murmured.
"Razor?" Lenore blinked at the unexpected question. To be honest she had no idea about the psi's sexuality, despite being partnered with her for almost two years. Razor didn't socialise at all as far as she knew; the 'path disliked and distrusted other psis and flatscans were beneath her notice, which didn't leave her much in the way of options... Lenore risked a look at her partner, and her jaw dropped. The frostily disdainful female was staring intently at the woman on the couch, her expression nothing short of worshipping, a faint blush staining the psi's pale cheeks.
"Stella also thinks the woman's hypothalamus has been tampered with," Roadie said quietly, "she's probably pumping out sex pheromones."
Lenore frowned.
"Then why aren't you affected?" She rolled her eyes. "You're gay, of course, and I'm straight so I'm not affected, but Razor...?" She looked again at her enthralled partner and smirked. "Well, well, well." She turned back to Roadie and frowned again. "But why do that to someone?"
"No point spending all that money on a pet if you're not guaranteed to find them attractive."
Lenore shuddered. This was sounding nastier and nastier.
"Look, can you take her?" Roadie asked. "She can't stay here, and I'll be stunned if there isn't trackers out after her."
Lenore sighed.
"You're right, if she is someone's property they'll want her back," she shuddered again, thinking of the deadly mass of explosives in the woman's neck, "or to get rid of her." Lenore grimaced, cortex bombs could be rigged to be tripped electronically or psionically and good as Roadie's electronic and psi shielding undoubtedly was, the sooner the woman was safely ensconced within the Agency's superlative shielding – and in a reinforced containment room – the less chance there was of... accidents.Razor had been reluctant to touch the woman, to Lenore's secret amusement – trust her partner to hold out against any form of human contact no matter how much she obviously wanted it – but the psi had eventually, gingerly, wrapped the still unconscious woman in Roadie's blanket and carried her out to the car, quickly lying her down on the back seat.
"Let's get her back home asap." Lenore pretended she hadn't seen the tentative caress Razor had stroked over the woman's hair. "I don't know about you but I'm uncomfortable being this close to a living bomb..."The nameless woman had been taken straight to the infirmary and settled in one of the toughened containment suites used for psis with uncontrollable, for whatever reason, talents. She'd been dressed in a loose hospital gown and made as comfortable as possible in the private room. Holly - mid-range empath and chief medic - was about to organise a deep-scan telepath to see the woman.
"No." Razor growled from the doorway: she still couldn’t bring herself to come near the cat-girl - or go away from her for that matter. "Let her wake up. Let her have a choice."
Holly hid her surprise at the strength of confused emotions behind Razor's statement, but nodded agreement.
"Fair enough. If she's what you think she is, Lenore," the empath was thoughtful, "she'll probably be grateful to be given a choice for a change."A few minutes later the woman began to surface from the drugged sleep. Holly sensed her confusion and fear and motioned for the partners to stay back for the moment.
"Hello," the empath said in a soft friendly voice, "my name's Holly. No one's going to hurt you, you're quite safe."
The cat-girl struggled to sit upright, looking around fearfully, her claws tangling in the sheets as she dragged it up to cover herself.
"What's your name?" Holly asked gently. The woman stared at her for several long seconds, then shook her head.
"She won't tell you?" Lenore queried.
"She can't," Holly said, sympathetic tears coming to her eyes at the woman's anguish. Razor cleared her throat, nervously, Lenore thought.
"Let me - maybe I can - " the path's voice was gruff but there was a yearning quality to it. Holly nodded and addressed the girl again.
"Adelaide is a telepath, she'll be able to talk to you mentally. Do you know what that means?"
The woman frowned, thinking, then she nodded hesitantly.
"I won't go through your memories," Razor stepped up to the bed, "just talk. Is that all right?"
Big, green eyes with slitted pupils gazed at her apprehensively, then she nodded.
A few feet away, Lenore managed not to gape; Razor, Razor was asking permission to go into someone's mind? This'd have to be a first... Lenore *spoke* to her partner on their private 'channel'.
*Ask her if it's okay for Holly and I to be in on this.*
"Is is all right if Lenore and Holly come in to the conversation as well? I can rig the link so we can all hear you." Razor asked the doubtful cat-girl, "Be easier than relaying what you've said to them." The woman paused, eyeing the females hesitantly, then she nodded.
Razor's face softened and she reached out to her…*OhgodohgodcanyoureallyhearmecanIreallyspeaktoyouohgoditsbeensolong*
"Shh. Slowly," Razor said as Holly bit back a sob at the pitiful outburst, "yes, we can hear you. What's your name?"
The woman paused then burst into tears.
*I don't know. I don’t remember anything about - about before.*
Without thinking Razor grasped and held a velvety furred hand.
"It's okay, we might be able to help you."
"How did you end up in the alleyway?" Lenore asked gently. The cat-girl swallowed nervously, trembling - and then she told them…Lenore was feeling sick by the time she'd finished, and Holly was holding herself together with difficulty. It had been a harrowing, sometimes incomprehensible story that they'd been told. Lenore had seen and heard some horrible, horrible things in her previous life with the police, but the cat-girl's narrative had to be one of the worst… The upshot of it all, though, was that the woman didn't know who she was, where she came from, or how long she'd been held captive.
Lenore glanced at her partner; Razor had been silent throughout but Lenore didn’t need to be an empath to see the outrage simmering just below the surface of the psi's icy exterior, and while the woman had been *speaking* the 'path had gone from holding one of her hands to clasping both of them in hers. That was more physical contact than Lenore could ever recall seeing Razor participate voluntarily in.
Holly spoke, a little shakily.
"I think it's a good idea to get one of the telepaths to see if they can recover any of your memories? How do you feel about that?"
The woman shivered and Razor moved imperceptibly, protectively closer.
*I - I guess so.* She swallowed, then smiled weakly. *It would be good to know who I am.*
"Good girl," Holly smiled encouragingly, "And now I think you should rest for a bit while I organise that. Would you like something to eat or drink?"
*Yes, please.*
"What would you like?" Holly stood up.
*I - I don't know!* The woman burst into tears again, *They usually just gave me stuff…*
"Oh honey," Holly hastened to reassure her, patting her shoulder consolingly, "it's okay. How about a nice cup of tea and maybe a sandwich? Cheese and tomato do?"
The cat-girl gazed wide-eyed at the empath.
*Tea? Real, hot tea? With sugar and milk?*
"Yes." Holly smiled, "I'll get that for you. Back in a moment."Razor was at a loss at how to behave and she wasn't impressed. She just couldn't seem to muster the icy detachment that was her trademark, her protection against the weakness she perceived emotions to be. She was wholly fascinated with the quivering, beautiful woman in the infirmary bed, the woman who was clutching her hands as if she was the only reality in the world, and the psi didn't know what to do - other than protect this defenceless girl with her life. Razor had never felt, had never expected to feel quite so strongly about anyone let alone a flatscan, but dammit this nameless female had in under an hour become the most important thing in her life. A previously empty life, the 'path realised with sudden, brutal insight.
Oh god - Razor thought gloomily - Baxter was never going to let her forget this…The empath was back in a couple of minutes carrying a tray loaded up with mugs and a big plate of sandwiches.
"I thought we could all do with a bite to eat," Holly smiled, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "When you're ready, honey," she spoke to the cat-girl, "there's someone who can help you with your memories."
*Thank you.* the woman smiled diffidently, tentatively, then, concentrating, she wrapped her clawed fingers around the mug Holly handed her. She looked up at the empath hesitantly. *I suppose - the sooner it happens…*
"The sooner it will be over, yes." Holly smiled at her.
*All right then. Can I have my tea first?*
"Of course. Whenever you're ready."
The woman took a sip of the steaming, fragrant liquid, her eyes closing in bliss.
*Tea… I'd forgotten…*
Holly watched the way the woman held her mug and picked up the sandwiches. The empath's lips pursed; those claws made it almost impossible for the poor girl to perform the simplest of tasks.
"Honey, if you like, we should be able to get rid of those claws and give you proper fingernails."
The woman gaped as if she didn't understand what was being said, then she started crying again, the tears tracking dark runnels in her facial fur.
*You can do that? I can have my fingers back?*
"Yes, it's a simple procedure." Holly smiled. "We can give you human teeth too if you like."
*Oh…*
Razor took the mug out of the woman's shaking hands and set it aside, then, feeling very peculiar, sort of light-headed and vaguely nauseous, she put an arm around the sobbing woman. Was this what it was like to comfort someone? It was kind of nice.
"Tell you what, honey," Holly smiled, swallowing her own tears, "First thing tomorrow I'll arrange a consultation with the surgeons and see what we can arrange."
*Thank you, I'd be so grateful.* The woman's *voice* quavered. *I - I don't have anything to give you in return, except - except myself…* The empath could feel the cat-girl's numbing dismay.
"Good heavens, girl!" Holly was shocked, "We don't want anything from you! Especially not something you're not willing to give! We're not barbarians."
Razor was blushing; during the exchange the woman had leant into her, unconsciously seeking solace and her nearness was provoking an entire range of new, embarrassing physical responses in the 'path – she had the oddest urge to bury her nose in the woman's thick, brown hair. And this was on top of the overwhelming pride and - joy, that was it - she felt that the woman seemed to trust her.
Holly very carefully avoided making eye contact with the discomfited psi; Razor had been completely thrown a loop by what she was feeling, she didn't need to be reminded that others could feel it too.
The empath glanced at the door.
"Ah, good, Simon's here," she smiled at the woman, "now maybe we can find out your name."
*Simon? A man?* the woman looked panicky and her breathing accelerated. *Pleasepleaseplease, not a man…*
"All right, honey, shhh it's okay," Holly soothed the almost incoherent woman while simultaneously trying to ignore Razor's icy glare and bared teeth. "No men then, we'll get a woman to talk to you. All right?"
The cat-girl had calmed down by the time an older female telepath, Emma, had arrived at the infirmary.Emma had a matronly, soothing personality - she was one of the 'paths that helped out in the nursery - she sat down on the chair next to the infirmary bed and introduced herself to the shaking woman. As Emma prepared herself to do the deep scan, the woman suddenly *spoke*.
*Can Adelaide be there too? In my head?*
*Yes.* Emma blinked, not sure why anyone would want that prickly, arrogant female anywhere near them. She eyed Razor. "That's fine by you?"
Razor nodded curtly.
"Let's go then…"The psis waded through the morass of recent memories, pushing deeper back through similar unpleasantness into the woman's past until suddenly there was nothing. It was as if they were floating in vaccum.
*Holy shit!* Emma exclaimed. *There's nothing here! It's like she didn't exist before being changed.*
*There has to be something!* Razor snapped. *Keep looking.*
*Don't order me about or you can just leave.*
Razor could feel the temporary link she had with the 'path tremble preparatory to breaking and flinging her out of the bond.
*I'm sorry.* she grated out through gritted teeth. Emma sniffed and continued pushing through the eerie emptiness. The crispness of the void indicated that the woman's memories had been erased by a psi, not by drugs which tended to leave a fuzzier kind of sensation.
*Whoever did this has phenomenal control.* the older woman said with grudging admiration.
*That might help us track them down. There can't be that many telepaths with this level of skill.* Razor was thoughtful.
*Not that we know of anyway. I'm not imagining for a second that every 'path in existence is registered.*
*Have the memories been removed or blocked?*
*I can't tell.* Emma frowned. *We need Simon or Greg to find that out, I just don't have the skill…*
*And she won't let a man near her.*
*While she's awake,* Emma said. *Maybe if she was asleep...?*
*Maybe...* Razor was distinctly uncomfortable with the thought, but she could see the sense in it.
*Why doesn't she like having men around her anyway?*
Razor snorted.
*You saw her memories, you've seen the way she's been treated. Would you want a man anywhere near you if it'd happened to you?*
*No,* Emma said slowly, *no, I probably wouldn't.*
*But,* Razor frowned, *there's more to it, I'm sure. She said something about a compulsion to react to them, that she couldn't help herself.*
*Poor little cow.* Emma shuddered. *It's a wonder she didn't try to kill herself.*
Razor's frown deepened.
*Yes, it is, isn't it...*In the end it was only a few pitiful fragments of memory the psis were able to retrieve; glimpses of a vase filled with bright yellow roses sitting on a sunny window sill; warm, dry sand trickling between tanned toes; a face, female, aloof but vulnerable somehow, wearing clothes from a century ago – a photo perhaps? – and a name.
"Ann - or Angela?" Emma offered the cat-girl.
*Is that my name?* The woman's hand went to her throat and her green eyes widened.
"I'm sorry, I can't really say," Emma frowned, "it's a name and it means something to you, but whether it's your name...?"
"I'd like to call you Angel," Razor said then looked uncomfortable, as if she hadn't realised she'd spoken out loud.
*Don't you think she might like to have some say in that?* Lenore said privately, acidly to her partner.
*Angel?* the cat-girl was staring at the psi, *Really?* She smiled tentatively, like she was relearning the knack. *I'd like that.*
"Angel." Holly beamed at the girl. "That's lovely! And if you're happy with it...?"
*I am, thank you.* Angel hadn't looked away from Razor's flushed face and none of the Agency people were in any doubt as to whom she was thanking. Holly cleared her throat, gently drawing Angel's attention to her.
"I think you should get some rest now, honey, and tomorrow we'll see about getting started on the surgery."
Lenore started, remembering something.
*Razor, patch me through to Holly privately.*
*Go ahead.* That her partner didn't snap her head off at being summarily ordered around was telling to the normal.
*Holly, don't make any promises on the surgery yet.*
*Why not?* the empath's expression didn't change, she gave no indication that she was talking to anybody but Angel.
*Something the cyber-tech we picked Angel up from said.* Lenore explained. *He said he thought the hardware, the chip socket and vocal chords, were linked to the bomb.*
*Oh shit.*
*We don't know what else is linked. Better not fiddle with anything until we know for sure.*
*OK, good idea.* Holly was thinking furiously. *Cloudie should be able to trace the components without tripping anything.*
*Fine. I'll talk to her after we leave here.*Holly fussed over Angel.
"Would you like a shower, or a bath, honey?"
Angel shook her head, wriggling back down in the bed.
*I think I just want to sleep now.* Tears trembled on her lashes. *Thank you so much, you've been so kind.*
"It's no problem." Holly stroked her hair. "Get some sleep now and you can have a proper meal when you wake up."
*Okay.* Angel snuggled down under the sheet, then looked shyly at Razor.
*Could you stay with me? If you don't mind?*
The tall psi, flushed again, looking ridiculously pleased.
"No, I don't mind." she said softly. "I'll stay."
*Thank you...* Angel's eyes drifted closed as she dropped off into a deep, healing sleep.
© 2003 February 9th Lutra
Darkside