Chapter 19

Chapter 19

None of Henry's biological material survived his death, and the other male members of his family are unsuitable for psychic reasons I've outlined below. I'm afraid we'll have to widen the search.

—Message from Charisma Wai to Shoshanna Scott (14 June 2082)

AUDEN HATED THIS. Doctors playing with her brain was how she'd ended up brain damaged. But for now, it appeared Dr.Verhoeven would do exactly as Auden decreed. "Nothing invasive," she ordered. "The pregnancy is too far along to take any kind of risk."

"Yes, of course. I would never put your well-being in jeopardy, sir." With that strange remark that focused on Auden and not the baby he'd been obsessed with to date, Dr.Verhoeven fitted a helmet of fine mesh over her head, then connected it to the scanner as well as the secondary scanner that would confirm his findings. "Shall I proceed?"

Hands curled lightly around the ends of the chair arms, and kept lax through sheer effort of will, Auden gave another one of those curt nods that were coming without effort. And though she believed the doctor would do as he'd said and not attempt an invasive procedure, she still had to clench her stomach when he began the scan.

From the outside, she knew it looked like blue-green fire dancing through the strands of the mesh, a strange beauty.

"Please recite the alphabet," the doctor said. "Then numerals from one to a hundred."

Auden was familiar with this part of the process—it was the way they'd calibrated the machines so that her readings could be judged against the same metric over time. The letters, then numbers emerged in a smooth progression.

"Excellent." The doctor looked about as excited as a man who'd spent seven decades in Silence could look, his florid face patchy and hot. "The increase in neural activity is remarkable. Almost ninety-five percent of the previously dead spots are once again active."

Dead spots.

Scars.

Put inside her by her parents.

If Auden had once known the graft's intended purpose, she'd lost access to that information during her blank years. She had, however, picked up hints since her mind began to work properly again. "Stretching" had been one term she'd heard the doctor mutter in relation to the procedure, and on its own, the word made no sense when related to the brain.

She could just demand the information…but she was currently balanced on a knife edge when it came to her autonomy—she couldn't afford to reveal any hint of weakness, even if only by making the doctor and Charisma consciously aware of her lack of knowledge. Both spoke to her on the assumption that she already knew.

As the doctor proved with his next statement.

"It's possible the seizure was triggered by the increase," the doctor mused. "As you're well aware, sir, this entire procedure is wholly new territory—we have no idea how or why the brain is recovering, though we believe it's linked to the fetus. But add in the other factor and things become more complicated."

The other factor.

What other factor? Auden wanted to demand, feeling as if she was playing a game to which everyone but her knew the rules. "I think it's time I had a good look through all my medical records, especially those that relate to my brain," she said at last, after calculating the risk of such a demand and deciding it was minimal; it fit the Auden the doctor knew in this time and place.

Perhaps she could finally gain answers to the mystery of what they'd done to her.

"I'll make sure you have access to them," the doctor said at once, "but I'm afraid most of the notes and scans are esoteric and will need a specialist eye to understand. I'm happy to go through them with you."

"I will look them over on my own first," Auden said in that cold voice that felt like a skin that had settled over her own. "You can explain the more rigorous sections to me."

"Yes, yes." The doctor's voice was absent as he stared at something on his screen.

"A problem?"

"No, well…" He spun the screen so she could see it. "This"—he pointed to a set of neural patterns—"is your brain as of the last scan." He touched the screen to pull up another file so the two were side by side. "This is from today."

Auden stared from one to the other. "I'm afraid you've lost me, Doctor."

"It's showing a mix of two patterns." The doctor spun the screen back toward him. "The secondary one is faded but interwoven into the primary. Fascinating."

Your scent changed. It wasn't perfume or body lotion or anything surface level. It was your base scent, the scent that is you no matter what else might layer itself on top. You had two.

Auden's heart galloped at the memory of Remi's disturbing words, but the doctor was too focused on her brain scans to notice. "I wish to get up."

"Oh, of course, sir!" He removed the helmet, leaving her free to rise from the chair.

Which she did at once. "What are the ramifications of the scan?" she asked, even as her skin stretched so tight across her body that she felt as if she'd explode.

"I can't say at this stage." He looked up at her from his bent-over position in front of the screen. "Are you experiencing any confusion, memory loss, or personality changes of which you're aware?"

Auden knew she should tell him the truth, but this doctor was the same man who'd helped her parents monitor her after the botched experiment that had left her with a broken brain. "No," she said with cold clarity. "I'm stable. More stable than I've ever been."

"I see that, sir," he said, but looked back at his screen. "It might be an artefact."

"An artefact?"

"A leftover piece of…code, if you will," he said at last. "It should fade as your own code settles into the system. But…" He went to another screen, brought up what looked like readings for another person altogether. "Hmm, I'm showing dual neural activity here, too. So you may be in a transitional phase."

Auden's face pulsed, her spine in knots. She might not know what was going on, but she understood instinctively that it couldn't be anything good for her. "I see. Send me those records, too, for completeness."

The doctor tapped the screen. "Sent to a secure device I have here. I'll authorize you as the only user. I'm not sure what monitoring software is on your current devices or if Hayward has access."

So many questions crowded Auden's brain, panic beating at her underneath the strange ice of her skin, but she knew one thing: she had to keep Dr.Verhoeven onside now that he seemed to believe she was back to full capacity. "I won't forget your loyalty or forward thinking."

The doctor straightened, a slight flush under his skin. "I have always been loyal to the family, and you are the family, sir."

The sick feeling persisted in Auden's gut even as her brain fired again. "Are there any implants yet in my body?" she asked. "I do not wish to be tracked." The existence of those tiny devices had penetrated her mind at some point during the years she'd been in limbo.

"We removed everything after the pregnancy was confirmed," the doctor said, and once again, it was a procedure of which Auden had no memory and for which she'd given no consent. "We had no idea how the transmitters might interact with the development of the fetus, so took the safer option."

At least now they couldn't track her like an animal. "Excellent." She wanted to push for more information, but the risk of rousing his suspicions was too high.

There was also no chance he'd leave her alone in here to properly read the devices he'd touched. Even if there had been, she wouldn't have taken the opportunity—not when she had no idea of what she might face.

If it had been just her, she'd have risked it. But not with her baby. A bad read could lead to a catastrophic psychic reaction. All else aside, the last thing she needed was to be vulnerable in front of this man who'd treated her as a lab subject without agency or will.

She needed someone she could trust by her side.

A flash of green-gold eyes in the privacy of her mind, the feel of a wide chest and strong arms holding her safe, the memory of a rumbling voice asking if she was all right.

Trust him , whispered the part of her that was coming to the bleak realization that she could not do this alone, not if her brain was starting to fracture again. One last risk, Auden. For your child. So she'll grow up free.

"The fetus is fine." The doctor's voice was a scratch that disrupted the desperate stream of her thoughts. "All readings normal."

"Excellent."

"I'll keep digging deep into the neural scans," the doctor said as he showed her out of the examination room. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime project for any physician."

Too bad Auden had no idea of the project's aims. There were too many sentences spoken that had another layer of meaning, too much knowledge assumed by those working with a woman who had documented neural deficits, and too much attention on a baby who shouldn't have been part of Auden's life for many years yet.

"I assume you'd prefer to handle it yourself?" the doctor said after leading her to a small cupboard in his office and opening it to reveal what appeared to be a brand-new organizer. "My assistant touched it for a short period when she set it up, but otherwise it would've just been the manufacturers."

"Do you have a disposable glove?" Auden's voice was losing its ice, she realized, becoming softer. Driven by her protective instinct toward her child, she dug hard and deep to find it again. "I'd prefer not to chance a read."

"A good precaution." Dr.Verhoeven nodded. "Especially at your Gradient level. My assistant's Silence is flawless, but you never know what she might have thought of when handling it. The dispenser is behind you. If you'll let me—" He touched the pad that would extrude a glove. "There you go."

The sterile glove itself was like most of its brethren. It had no imprint to speak of—created by machines before being packed into slabs of gloves by machines, which were then fed into a box by a machine, there wasn't much chance of handling. Even putting them into the dispenser didn't require contact—just pick up a slab, slot it in. The machines were designed to "eat" the plas wrap of the slab, storing the rubbish in a small section that could be emptied when full.

After retrieving the organizer with her gloved hand, she allowed the doctor to use voice activation to transfer ownership to her, with her voice and retinal scans the new passcodes. "Thank you, Doctor," she said in a crisp tone. "You have far exceeded my expectations of you—and they were high to begin with." Again, words with too much meaning, words she hadn't thought about saying until they were out of her mouth.

"It is my greatest honor to assist you in this extraordinary endeavor."

Heat rose in a scalding wave over Auden's body, a burning warning from deep in her psyche. She was thankful her skin tone made it impossible for the doctor to pick up her involuntary reaction. Not saying another word, she left the medical suite to emerge into dazzling sunshine that was a welcome contrast to the swirling darkness inside her mind.

The warmth made her want to linger, drink it in, but Scotts didn't do things like that, so she turned to head toward the house. Only to see her uncle striding toward her, his face a hard blank. "Auden," Hayward Scott said when he met her. "Charisma tells me that you are now at full mental capacity and thus in charge as Shoshanna's official heir."

Well, that was fast.

"It is my legal and biological right," she said, the words rote memory. Her parents had spoken them often enough.

"I would never argue with that." Hayward inclined his head. "As Devlin no longer needs to learn operations, he'll be moving out of the main house and into my residence in the compound."

Auden went to say that was fine, but the words that emerged were, "I think it's better that you and my cousin return to your estate in Surrey. We do not wish to foster any confusion in or out of the family about the line of succession."

The tiniest tic at Hayward's temple, a quiet sign that he'd had more ambitions for his son than he'd ever had for himself. "Surely that's a farfetched concern?"

"That's interesting phrasing on your part." She found herself wondering how many other times he'd tried to subtly convince her that she was crazy; because Uncle Hayward was, after all, a Scott. "But no, it's not farfetched. I will become far more visible once the child is born and I need to be known as the only viable heir to Shoshanna Scott. Devlin will be a distraction."

He took a small step back. "Is that a threat?"

Auden belatedly realized it could be taken as that…and this was a game of power for her unborn child's life. "Of course not, Uncle." She held his gaze as she spoke in a voice so without emotion it chilled her from the inside out. "I am simply stating facts."

"I must say I didn't expect this of you, Auden, but well done." His shoulders were stiff. "You learned well at Shoshanna's knee. Devlin and I will be gone within the week."

"A wise decision."

Auden kept up her front until she reached her bedroom. But right when she would've collapsed, she remembered how Charisma had run into her room two months earlier, after Auden stumbled and fell onto her hands and knees.

The walls were watching Auden.

A scream built up inside her.

She turned it into rage as cold as the heart of midnight and said, "Charisma, I want a clean room. Now ." Maybe she was crazy and talking to the empty air, but she didn't think so.

Charisma appeared at her door three minutes later, a flush on her cheeks and her chest heaving. "I apologize, sir. I didn't think. Security will be here momentarily."

A short man with round cheeks and a clean-shaven head ran down the hallway just then, his eyes flared so wide it was obvious he was terrified. Too terrified to hold up the pretense of Silence. Not meeting Auden's eyes, he ducked into the room after Charisma gave him a nod, and—after pulling on gloves—began to remove listening devices dotted throughout the room.

The only visual recorder was by the vanity mirror.

"Slight overkill don't you think, Ris," Auden said in a tone of voice that she'd heard from her mother when she was in a more relaxed frame of mind.

Charisma's expression was wary. "The neural deficits were significant enough that I judged there was high risk of inadvertent harm to you or the child." A pause. "You did have that one fall where your balance was off…"

Auden left her hanging, her eyes on the short man. He ducked into the bathroom. When Auden looked at Charisma, the other woman quickly said, "Only two biomonitors. To ensure we'd know if you had a fall or a faint. You had multiple small seizures after the first attempt."

Attempt .

Another word with a meaning behind it that Auden didn't understand. "Acceptable," she said at last. "The last thing I'd want is to crack my skull and bleed to death at this point in the process."

The security man emerged from the bathroom on the heels of her words. "All clear."

"Show me."

His hands shook as he tried to pass over his organizer.

Grabbing the device, Charisma spun it around to show Auden. On it was a design that displayed the exact location where each device had been embedded. Every single one now bore a red cross over it. "I will be displeased in the extreme if I find even a single errant monitoring device left behind," she said, and she wasn't looking at the security man.

It was Charisma she had in her sights.

"I oversaw the installation," the other woman said. "The room is now clean, sir. You know, I would never lie to you."

Despite the aide's vow, Auden didn't lower her guard even after the other two had left—and even though maintaining this mask washed exhaustion over her in deep waves that made her want to sway on her feet.

To save her child, she had to play this game to the end.