Archon's Queen (27 page)

Anna forced herself standing, too ashamed to make eye contact. “Yes, sir.”

hame sent her to a small campus market for cosmetics to hide the red square on her forearm. Doctor Mardling was kind enough to wait while she sat for the art class. She forced herself to remain still, perched on a pedestal naked but for a drape over her lap. Dr. Mardling hovered at the door, chatting with Professor Gresham for the most part. Every so often, he’d send a reassuring telepathic whisper into her head.

Her old friend the stuffed owl sat above the door, though she’d found a new thing to focus on. Tiny wrinkles formed around Mardling’s eyes as he smiled at the art instructor, the two men joking as if they were old classmates. He seemed unassuming, unthreatening, one of the kindest men she had ever laid eyes on.

Mardling laughed at something Gresham said, loud enough to turn the heads of several nearby students. Anna could not help herself but grin at his hands-in-pockets posture and whimsical affect. The sense of having someone there to “hold her hand” made the arduous two hours tolerable.

While the students shuffled off to use the bathroom and pursue snacks on a twenty-minute break, she hid behind the changing partition in the back, bundled in the white sheet. It would be a waste of effort to dress, but she could not bring herself to sit out in the open. Dr. Mardling knocked on the barricade after a few minutes of quiet isolation.

“Brought you some coffee, Anna.” His hand came around the edge with a cup.

She took it in both hands to her chest, siphoning the warmth through the thin sheet. “Thank you, Doctor.”

The drink was about done when the sound of students returning sent a shiver through her body.

“We are ready for you, luv,” whispered Gresham.

Anna cringed, embarrassment mixed with the first physical signs it was time for more zoom: dull channels of pain up and down her bones.
This is art, right. High class.
She held her head up and strode back to her perch.

With the period over, she dressed behind the partition and sat for a minute hugging her clothing to her skin. When the din of departing students faded to nothing, she skulked out into the room. The spot on her arm burned a sense of unworthiness into her as she moved among the easels, refusing to look at them. Mardling’s hand caught her arm, and she startled up to see his smile.

“You should see how they came out.”

Anna pulled at him, trying to leave, but he held her firm.

“You need to see them.”

He walked her around from one to the next, making sure she studied them all. Twenty-four versions of her, innocent and pure, stared off at the undrawn owl, in contemplation of some mysterious question. How many hundreds of men had seen her naked at the club, yet none of them saw this.

“Perception is in the mind of the observer.” He squeezed her shoulder.

She glanced up into his eager-schoolboy face, still perplexed at why he had been so excited about meeting her.

“You
are
a beautiful woman,” he whispered. “The only person here who sees you as a tramp is you.”

She shuddered, thumb rubbing against the sore spot. “I don’t want to be trash anymore. I’ve tried to quit, I just keep running back to it.”

“Shrugging off that leash takes a lot of work. Fortunately, you have keenly piqued my interest and I shall help you.” He glanced at his NetMini for the time. “Come along then, we can get to the nitty-gritty of the research after a quick stopover at the clinic.”

“Clinic?”

“Yes, you see… When you introduce substances like that into your body, certain physiological changes take place in the brain to cope with it. Over time, these changes create dependency, which triggers both the craving for the substance as well as the withdrawal symptoms that come on when the chemical is absent. The good lads at the clinic use nanobots to make minor adjustments in regions of the brain… the subthalamic nucleus, dorsal striatum, and sometimes the medial prefrontal cortex. Most especially the nucleus accumbens septi… that is where the incredibly addictive drugs do the most damage.”

Anna stared at him without saying a word for a full fifteen seconds, and blinked. “Well, you certainly sound like a doctor.”

“Geneticist mostly; however, as of late I have chiefly studied the brain.” He helped her turn a corner and guided her down some steps to the outside.

She forced a plaintive smile. “Um, right… about that… I’m not so sure I want some tosser rooting around my brain.”

“Rubbish. It is all done with nanobots. You will not feel pain.”

Drab grey, the waiting section of the clinic was as lifeless as Anna felt. Ten hours after waking up in a motel room, the lack of zoom had changed her head into a mass of iron slag wrapped in cotton. Her brain screamed at her for making it suffer painful withdrawal, then the tease of a dose, and now nothing. She imagined tiny little brains sitting in a nest, mouths agape and chirping like chicks waiting for worms. The thought was so patently ridiculous she burst out laughing in a silent room. When the humor left her, she leaned her head back against the hard metal wall.

Next time I hit I’m gonna see those things.

Doctor Mardling glanced at her from the counter a few meters away, lifting an eyebrow at the sudden outburst. His eyebrows jammed together, a face she thought he would have made at the sight of tiny cheeping brains. With a shake of his head, he returned his attention to the clerk.

His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Zoom. Yes, the narcotic. Surely, you have heard of it working here? Synthetic psychedelic with opioid enhancements… you do have a programme for something like that, have you not?”

“Is she your wife?”

“No.”

“Daughter?”

“Hardly. Do I look that old?”

“Sister?”

“Oh for Pete’s sake, are you going to play silly buggers all day or get on with it? She is my student.” He flashed an ID from the college.

“Beggin your pardon mate, but regs won’t let us process her on your register unless she’s a blood relative or spouse.”

“Do it on hers then, I’ll cover the cost.” He waved her over.

“Give ‘er a swipe.” The clerk pushed a small box across the counter.

“I don’t have a ‘mini.” Anna offered a hesitant smile at the Doctor. “It’s a long story.”

The clerk grumbled; the irritation of having to do something more than gather dust was quite evident on his face.

Doctor Mardling threw his hand about as he rambled at the ceiling. “Oh, sorry about distracting you from slummocking about, they do pay you to do more than just warm a chair, do they not?”

The pudgy man in white scowled, his anger focusing almost all on her. “Name.”

“Annabelle Emily Morgan.”

“What’s your PID?”

“Don’t ‘ave one.”

He sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment to search for calm. The protracted ‘Ohmmmm’ from Mardling made his face redden.

“You ‘ave a plan at least?”

“Not rightly.” She fumbled through her purse and showed her public assistance card.

“Oh, bother that.” He smirked at it. “She’s on the dole. Gotta put ‘er on a list and wait for the approval to come down. UHS, mate. Might ‘ave her in the door in six months if she’s lucky. That is, of course, assuming she’s got a job lined up and a place to stay. If she’s a Cov, they’re going to deny it.”

She pouted, sliding her badge of disgrace back into the purse. The man seemed pleased he finally had a reason to ignore them.

“Look here, you fat twat.” James Mardling stared into the attendant’s soul. “You are going to put her in the programme right this instant.”

Undulations rippled through the clerk’s paunch as his already pasty cheeks whitened to a shade as pure as Anna’s hair. Sweat exuded from his face as if in time lapse, forming into visible droplets at the tip of his rat’s nose.

Doctor Mardling leaned close over the counter, his words falling to a half whisper. “Right. This. Instant.”

Anna was unsure of how to feel. No one had ever stood up for her before; she had never felt protected at all. Even her own father barely tolerated her sharing the roof with him. Shaking, the clerk’s hands waffled through the holographic displays and pushed bits of light around. After several taps, he nodded and spoke in a voice so hollow he sounded like an android.