Chapter 26: Reid

Chapter 26: Reid

I don't know why it didn't occur to me sooner that going to the Capitol would make me just as much of a nervous wreck as Asha was afraid it would make her. The instant we stepped off the rail and into the city's station it became clear I'd grown used to her. She seems so normal to me now—her eyes are still blue, her skin still has its creamy, dark tone, and yes, her hair is unbelievably long, but I must have been taking it for granted. Everywhere we go, people stare. Here in the courtroom is no different, especially since they discovered she was too small for the chair provided and had to get her several cushions so she could see over the top of the podium. I wish they hadn't. I don't like the way the judges are looking at her like she is some sort of strange animal. She can't help but stare back at them, and all the little mannerisms I used to find adorable suddenly seem dangerous. For the first time in almost a year I am seeing her as a stranger would. In a way, so is she, which is a large part of the problem.

When the eyes of the crowd found her two days ago in Capitol Station she swayed visibly and began to worry at her scar so forcefully it wrinkled the button-down shirt Elene had coaxed her into that morning. I wanted to grab her, shove her back on the rail, and take her back to the University. Find someone to talk some sense into her. But she rallied just as I lost my nerve and stood her ground, looking through the crowd, as focused as if we were back on campus.

“Asha-na, what?” I asked in broken Native. Desmond had forced me to learn a few basic phrases before we left out of a paranoia I was surprised to find outclassed my own.

Her arm stretched perpendicular to her body with a suppleness I usually only saw when she was dancing, index finger stabbing through the mob of nonchalantly staring Kiranese. I kept catching snippets of emotion. Most of them had never seen a Native. They wished they could be rude and stop to get a better look.

“There,” she said softly, tugging at my sleeve with her other arm.

“Where?” I stammered, butchering the accent. Her giggle made my cheeks burn.

“She is looking for us.”

The crowd cleared slightly as people entered their compartments, and I saw who Asha was pointing at. She was tall, slender, with the typical Kiranese cast to her skin and nondescript brown hair. One look at her eyes confirmed that she certainly wasn't looking for anyone. They weren't even open.

“Asha-na, she...fuck it,” I muttered, switching to the Kiranese. “She's blind.”

Asha shook her head at this and began to haul on my sleeve more insistently. “She knows we are here.”

I realized before we were quite within speaking distance that Asha was right. The girl, whoever she was, was an empath, and a strong one. Compared to me, at least.

“I'm Aria Jones. You must be Mr. Addison and Ms. Indrani?” When we both flinched at that name she frowned in a way only someone who had never made use of a mirror could.

“Yes,” Asha said calmly. “Why are you looking for us?”

“I guess you can say I'm your guide. The court hotel assigned me to you. I get to see you around, answer any questions, and make sure you don't break any rules and talk to people you're not supposed to.” She smiled at me and became suddenly pretty.

“And how do you do that?” I couldn't think of a more tactful way to get at what I meant.

“Mr. Addison, I'm an empath. I can still see when I am not alone.” Her voice sounded too patient for this to be a question she'd never been asked before. I felt suddenly guilty, but I was still curious.

“I can't imagine it's very consistent.” Asha stared back and forth between us both, clearly confused.

“You are blind?”

The girl giggled. “Oh, you're going to turn out to be just as adorable as he thinks you are.”

That was an uncomfortable observation of almost Asha-esque proportions. It didn't help Elene had insisted on rebraiding Asha's hair into pigtails to “make her fit in.” The days stretching ahead of me suddenly seemed much, much longer.

“Why would it not be consistent? Reid, I am very confused.” Asha stared up at me petulantly, and I found myself wanting to smack Elene for teaching her that particular facial expression.

“Careful,” I told her in Native. “Rude.”

She sighed, but didn't ask any more questions until Aria had seen us to our suite. Once we got walking, I'm certain she forgot all about it. She'd spent the entire ride from the campus station with her nose pressed to the window, staring at the countryside, or inspecting the material of the compartment seats and demanding me to let her see the control room. I'd told her no, but one of the attendants was quite taken with her, bent some rules, and showed her anyway. She must have been in there for half an hour, silently watching, running her hands over everything with an unusual amount of concentration.

“It is all plastic,” she muttered at last, and the pilot smiled at her, absolutely charmed.

“Got something against the stuff?” He asked, but received only a blank stare in response. We are still working on colloquialisms.

“Do you not like it, Asha? That's what he's asking,” I offered.

“No, I do like it. But I thought it would all be metal.”

The pilot chuckled. “What, you spend time on Newearth?” He looked at me guiltily, suddenly placing my accent.

Asha stared at me for a moment, sifting through my mind to learn more about my home planet. “Newearth doesn't care. Kiran has rules. Metal for space. Plastic for the planet. Plastic is renewable. Metal is not.”

“She's a fast learner.” I couldn't tell if he was more impressed or intimidated by the enormous mental leap she'd just made with my thoughts. Non-empaths are always a little unsettled by how much her brain skips around. At least on the campus they're used to it. Here at the Capitol, they don't know what to do. I just hope she doesn't do it while talking before the judges. She and I are two of the only three empaths allowed in the court, and all three of us are supposed to be keeping out of other people's heads. Asha and I both have arm bands on to make it perfectly clear what we are. The third empath is lurking somewhere in the crowd, making sure we follow the rules. They get assigned a court every time an empath has to come in to testify. Best they could think of to keep the law working and keep us in check where we're not allowed. The judges choose them, and unlike us, they get to stay hidden. Asha's probably already figured out where our watcher is, but I am not powerful enough to check without breaking rules. I'm not willing to go to jail for Asha or Seamus, so why risk it over my own curiosity?

Rayland strides in from an adjacent room and looks to the judges, who nod quietly. Seamus' lawyer bristles visibly, and I decide I like her. She has a lot of dark red hair and freckles, and I'd be surprised to find she wasn't another fiery Oceanan female like Caroline. She sets down her datapad and gives a slight nod, though it is clear she wanted more time.

“Ms. Indrani, I'm glad you could make it here today. Do we finally have your seat to your liking?”

He is mocking her, but she misses it. “No. I do not like the way my feet are dangling.” There are a couple of chuckles from where the feeders are sitting behind me, but Rayland and the judges do not smile.

“We'll get this over quickly, then. Wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable.” He gives her a toothy smile, and she replies in kind, only hers is genuine. At this, one of the judges dares to grin.

“No idea how much danger she's in, does she?” mutters a Newearthan feeder from behind me. I hear a sigh to her left, and my shoulders tense. I had not expected Asha to be this calm.

“Ms. Indrani, I'd like to start out by getting some basic information about you, if that is alright.”

“That is fine.” She is kicking her legs idly in the air, and I realize with horror her shoes are gone. When the fuck did she take them off? The judge who smiled earlier is having difficulty keeping his left cheek from twitching, but the other two either have not noticed or do not find it funny.

“When were you born?” Rayland is pacing back and forth, and I'm beginning to wonder if he ever stands still.

“I am nineteen.” At this, another one of the feeders giggles.

“Ms. Indrani, I asked the date and year of your birth.”

She shakes her head at him. “I know the year and the season.”

“But the day has escaped you?”

Asha's head tilts to the side in confusion at this turn of phrase, but she manages to not take him literally. “We do not count time the same way where I am from. The day does not matter as much as the season. I was born in spring, nineteen years ago.”

Rayland sighs, and one of the judges makes a note on his datapad. Another sees her feet, and blinks in surprise.

“Ms. Indrani, where are your shoes?” Her voice is pleasant. Rayland looks down and roll his eyes, and the feeders crane forward for a better look.

“Oh. I am not sure.” She stares at her bare toes in concern.

Rayland does not look pleased. “I am told you are to be a captain of a Fleet ship one day, Ms. Indrani.”

She has not looked up from her feet. “That is what I am told.”

“How can you be expected to keep your men safe if you cannot keep track of your shoes?”

I wince, but Asha is still calm. She looks at him steadily and resumes idly swinging her legs, toes spread. To everyone else she must seem like a child. “I am confused by that question. I do not think my crew will be less safe if my feet are bare.”

Even the judges laugh at this, which confuses Asha even more. It takes a few seconds for everyone to settle down, and it is only when I hear myself sigh that I realise I've been holding my breath.

“Nevermind!” Rayland barks. “Let's talk about your parents.”

Asha's legs stop kicking again. “Oh, no. Do we have to?”

“I can't imagine why it would be a problem for you.”

At this, Asha gives him the most pointed blue-eyed stare I've ever seen her fix on someone. I think she's picked up some of Bastian's habits, too, because one of her eyebrows is raised. Rayland falls silent, and there is another smattering of laughter from behind me.

“One of my parents was a Native, the other a Kiranese. Mama does not live here, so she does not matter to you, and I do not know my father.”

Rayland shakes his head. “Such a shame. And also convenient. Do you realize your father could get in very big trouble for siring you?”

Asha nods.

“And if you were, say, hiding his name, you could be in very big trouble, too?”

“That makes sense,” she says reasonably, and a muscle in Rayland's jaw twitches. He tries to continue, but one of the judges cuts in.

“Rayland, as fascinating as this is, I fail to see how her lineage applies to her part in Seamus Walsh's case.” His voice is low and carries well.

“Your Honor, I'm just trying to get a feel for her honesty.”

“Is she not under oath to tell the truth?” says the female judge in the center.

“She is.”

“Then move on to something relevant and stop wasting our time,” snaps the third judge, running his hands through his hair in a very Desmond-like fashion. He's the only one of the three I recognize. His name escapes me, but his face is always all over the feeds. Empath rights activist, and based on what I've seen, hates Rayland openly.

“Apologies, Your Honors.” Rayland flips open his datapad and scans his notes for a moment. “Well then, Asha. Are you ready to talk about what happened the day Seamus was taken into custody?”

At this, I hear the feeders shifting forward in their seats behind me.

“Yes.” Asha's voice has grown softer.”

“How long have you known Seamus?”

Asha struggles with the question. “In person?”

“Yes, Ms. Indrani. What else would I mean?”

She shakes her head. “No. I have known him his entire life, but we met almost a year ago.”

Rayland chuckles condescendingly. “I do not think you understood the question.”

“No, I did. But you do not understand the answer.” The feeders laugh with more confidence now that the judges have chastised Rayland, but my hands are sweating.

“Enlighten me, then.” His voice is deadly gentle.

“I know everything that has ever happened to him. And he knows everything that has ever happened to me.” She pauses thoughtfully, hand seeking the scar on her neck. “We are both Type Three, so it is just something that happens.”

“So you have all his memories?”

She nods.

Rayland flips through his datapad again. “What was he wearing the day he left Oceanus for Kiran?”

There isn't a pause. “A torn blue shirt the man who pulled him out of the water gave him with a burn mark on the left sleeve and tie-waist pants that were two sizes too big. He had no shoes, so his feet were blistered by the decks, and he had not had a bath in two weeks.”

Rayland checks her facts against what is clearly a picture. “Huh. How about that.” One of the judges motions for his datapad, and he hands it over reluctantly. The picture is passed from judge to judge in silence.

“Alright, I think it's clear you know him well,” the third judge mutters with a trace of awe in his voice. Another laugh from the feeders. “Perhaps you can tell us what Seamus was thinking?”

Asha sighs. “He was not thinking.”

Rayland's teeth flash again. “Calling it a crime of passion will not really help his case, Ms. Indrani.”

She shakes her head. “No, he was not thinking. He was seeded by other people in the crowd.”

His smile falters. “What?”

“They were not his thoughts. He was not thinking.” Her tone makes it clear she can't understand why this is such a difficult concept for him, and the feeders snicker again.

“You do realize that the laws make no distinction.”

“They should.” Asha stares at him again, and he smiles back at her.

“How do you figure?”

She sighs, clearly annoyed. I'll need to talk to her about that. “If someone commits a murder, do you punish the weapon or the one who was holding it?”

“Ms. Indrani, that's a silly question.”

“No, it is not. If it were a concept you understood, you would be looking for the ones who seeded Seamus and not blaming him.” The feeders are laughing again, and even one of the judges has to stifle a smile.

“Seamus fired the gun.” Rayland's voice is deadly soft.

Asha shudders. “I remember. I was there.”

“Our records state you were on campus that day, causing problems of your own.”

The female judge leans in and whispers to the Desmond look-alike. He nods, then speaks again, voice dangerously pleasant. “You're off-topic again, Rayland.”

“Your Honor, I'm just trying to see if she is lying for him.”

“We're not interested in what happened at the camp, Rayland. We're interested in what happened at the Capitol.” At this, a few of the feeders grumble in disappointment. I wonder who pulled strings to keep this line of questioning surpressed.

Asha shakes her head. “I am not lying. I have nothing to hide.”

Rayland raises an eyebrow. “The problem, Ms. Indrani, is that you can say these things all you want, but we have no proof. It's a convenient twist of the facts, to be sure, but there is no evidence.”

“You do not think it is quantifiable.” Asha considers this for a moment. Desmond must have warned her this would be a problem with the non-empaths, because that's not a word she'd use without thinking of him.

“Certainly not!”

“But if I could show you I am not lying, it would be then.”

One of the judges gives a surprised nod, and Rayland tenses. This is not where he wanted this to go, clearly.

“Are you asking to be tested?”

“Yes. Are you afraid to let me?” She gazes at him unblinkingly, and I almost pity the man. I hate it when she gives me that look. To my left, I see Seamus' lawyer shaking her head, and I begin to fear for Asha.

“Your Honors, may I counsel Ms. Indrani for a moment?” Her voice is richer than I expected.

“If you will settle for a public counsel, then yes,” replies the woman judge.

The lawyer nods. “Ms. Indrani, you do realize that these tests are, by law, performed publically, and any question asked must be answered unless the judges deem it be skipped?”

Asha looks at her with interest. “No, I did not know that, but I do not mind.”

“Ms. Indrani, you may wish to think about this. I know you want to help your friend, but there are other ways to give them evidence.”

“No. I have nothing to hide.”

At this, Rayland smiles. “Very well. But Ms. Indrani, it is my experience that everyone has something to hide.”

She is not given a chance to answer. The female judge has risen. “Well, we've done all we can for today. There's no point continuing questioning now if we're going to have to sit through it again later. Let's return at this time in three days, shall we?”

The room descends into pandemonium, and I practically have to shove my way toward Asha and the lawyer. By the time I get there, they are done talking.

“Thank you, Karen.” Asha is smiling, but the lawyer is not.

“Please be careful, Asha. You backed Rayland into a corner today, and he's going to go after your character when you get back on that stand.”

Asha shakes her head. “I know this.”

“Then I hope you're right when you say you have nothing to hide.” Karen sighs, gathers her datapad, and strides away purposefully. Asha sees me and smiles widely.

“We should eat!”

“Are you hungry?” I tug on one of her pigtails unthinkingly.

“Yes. And I also want to go to a restaurant.” She says the word slowly.

“We'll see if Aria will let us.”

“She has said yes already.” Asha points toward the wall where our escort is waiting. To get to her, we have to enter a throng of feeders. As soon as they see her, they encircle us both.

“Ms. Indrani!” A green-eyed boy about her age steps directly in front of her. “Let us talk to you for a minute!”

Asha shakes her head with a smile. “I am sorry. We have no time, and I want lunch. We are going to a restaurant!”

The feeders laugh again, and I wonder why I am surprised at how much they seem taken with her. I should have known. They always love the quirky people. “Where are you going?” one of them asks, but there are so many I can't quite tell who.

“I do not know. I have never been to one, so I do not know how to choose.”

At this several of them start yelling out names of local establishments they like. I take Asha by the arm and keep us moving toward Aria. The crowd is starting to wear on her.

“Boys, you know better than to talk to her,” Aria says pleasantly when we reach her side of the room. Her face is turned to the throng of feeders.

“Ari, you always spoil our fun!” shouts a curly-haired man in the back of the crowd, and several other feeders laugh pleasantly.

“It's my job. Now leave my charge be. We've got rules for a reason.”

“See you Wednesday, Asha! Keep your shoes on!” The green-eyed boy winks and heads off, followed by several others. Asha looks down at her feet in dismay. “Oh, no! They are still bare!”

“Then we'll just get you some new shoes on the way to lunch,” Aria says, taking her hand. “Come on now, let's get out of here.”

As we reach the door of the courtroom, I feel the hair on the back of my neck rise. I look behind me reflexivly. Rayland is standing alone in the center of the room in his gunmetal grey suit, eyes fixed on Asha's back, lip curled into an expression of such loathing he'd give my father a run for his money. When he catches me looking, he turns on his heel and storms back into the antechamber.

Suddenly, lunch seems much less appealing.