Red Smoke Rising. Rick Psy.D. Anthony

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ was a building material used liberally throughout his newfound surroundings. Other than the foul-smelling bucket in the corner of the room, the entire cell was comprised of solid brick. It was a far cry from the accommodations he had become accustomed to at Ipsamesh.

      Curious, he scanned the brick floor as he fished around in his pocket with his good hand. He retrieved a small coin and scratched at the strangely smooth bricks, digging as hard as he could, raking the coin across the surface of the floor. He couldn’t even make a mark.

      They’ve been changed, he realized. The brick had been modified—augmented to be harder than normal. Escape-proof. Breaking in or out was impossible. There were many tales of the prison’s fortification. No criminal had ever escaped and it was where the worst of them were kept.

      Lio clenched his fists and tried to forget the pain in his arm. He wished he had a painkiller, but not just any drug. He wished he had ku.

      He closed his eyes as he thought about the drug, imagining himself crushing the tiny plant between his fingers and inhaling the thick red smoke that rose from it when it burned. He longed for its effects. He wished to see once more with new eyes, to watch the dancing auras of light all around him. He licked his lips. The craving was getting to him. His eyeballs felt itchy just thinking about it. He hated the feeling. Instead of figuring out if he could somehow break free, he distracted himself with thoughts of getting entranced. It was a thought that crossed his mind countless times a day.

      He missed it constantly—every single day for the last seven years. Addiction was only one of many undesirable effects the drug caused. He had reacted badly to prolonged use. Many people did. Eventually, he had realized he had to quit. His life had been a shambles at the time.

      Ku…

      Pain ripped his mind back to reality, radiating from his elbow where he had thoughtlessly jarred it against the wall. He considered setting the bone himself. The thought was unbearable. He needed a healer. He would even settle for a sage.

      His attention was diverted from the pain when he heard a faint voice through the dark hole in the steel door.

      “What are you afraid of? Do you think the old man will escape or overpower you? His arm is busted—snapped!”

      Lio strained to hear more.

      “I just don’t see the point. Who cares if he’s in pain? I can’t hear him screamin’.”

      “You can’t hear him screaming because he’s not screaming. He’s unconscious; he might even be dead,” the first Myrmidon retorted.

      “My orders were to lock up the old man, the woman and the bloody one until questioning. Stern is already pissed over this, over Ipsamesh. A student got killed. These aren’t just commoners, and when someone comes to get them for interrogation I don’t want to have to explain why only two are left.”

      “Where are you getting all of this from? Why the sudden compassion for illegal augments?”

      “Bah!” the Myrmidon paused. “Jeanea has been blasting me about it since we brought them in. She’s gettin’ under my skin.”

      Lio recognized their voices—they were the Myrmidons who’d brought him in. The second Myrmidon sounded annoyed.

      “Do whatever you want, but stay out of the woman’s cell no matter what. I’m not wasting my time with this.”

      Then there was nothing. Once again Lio was left in total silence.

      The pain made him fuzzy. He wasn’t sure how much time elapsed between the Myrmidons’ conversation and the next noise.

      The professor teetered on the verge of consciousness, but snapped back to reality at the sound of something just outside his cell. He shook his head to clear the grogginess. He was immediately sorry—it jarred his shattered arm—but the pain allowed him to focus on the door as it swung open. Light from a torch in the hallway cast shadows all around him. It took his eyes a moment to adjust. When they did, he could make out three figures: two Myrmidons and a woman.

      The woman was a healer; the Empire insignia on her long, white robe caught the torchlight as she turned to him. One of the Myrmidons stood beside her while the other leaned against the wall, arms crossed with a scowl on his face.

      “Can you hear me?” the woman asked, bending down. “Are you all right?”

      Lio nodded. His eyes darted between the woman and the two Myrmidons.

      “Yes,” he muttered in a voice that shook from both pain and fear.

      The healer cracked a smile. “You certainly don’t look all right. You look pretty busted up.” The smile vanished. She shot an angry glare at the Myrmidon who stood at the door before concentrating on Lio once more.

      “Here,” she said kindly, removing a vial from her robe. “Drink this. It’s a mixture of herbs, a sage’s potion to numb the pain. This is going to hurt.”

      Lio knew what he was in for. The pain would only get worse and anything was worth a try. He accepted the vial and poured the foul-smelling contents of the tiny bottle down his throat until it was empty, wiping his lips with his sleeve when he was done.

      The healer readied a second, smaller vial. A drop of red liquid quivered on the end of the pipette in her hand. She dabbed it on the middle of her tongue. Her eyes closed as she replaced the vial in the folds of her robe.

      When she opened them again, they were wild. Even in the dim light of the cell, Lio could see the change. She stared right through him. He knew the look well.

      If she had smoked the raw form of the drug, the healer would have been able to see Lio’s aura, the brilliant swirling light that surrounded and represented him. By ingesting kuval, the refined version, in the manner she had, she would not only see the swirling light of his aura, but could touch and change it as well. The healing process would take anywhere from a few moments to a few hours, depending on her skill.

      The woman brought her eyes to his briefly before focusing on the splintered bone. She held out her hands over the break. Lio closed his eyes as the pain intensified. It felt like his arm was in a vice, forcing it back into position. Popping and a gut-wrenching grinding broke the silence. Lio moaned as tendons snapped around bone. The painkiller didn’t help at all. He yelped again and again as his arm twisted itself slowly back into shape.

      As the healing progressed, Lio’s aura changed from that of a man with a broken arm to that of the same man, but with a mended one instead, flickering from injury to mended wholeness. As the light patterns changed, Lio’s body changed too—healing to match his newly healed aura. That was the painful part.

      With a final loud pop, the bone protruding from his shirt slid back inside. Lio slid sideways, unconscious again.

      When he woke he was alone again, the pain in his arm was gone. Other than the damp blood that soaked through his shirt there was no trace it had ever been broken.

      Lio sighed. The situation was still dismal.

      What was that?

      A new conversation between the healer and the soldiers had erupted into shouts outside the cell

      “It’s not right!” СКАЧАТЬ