Page 19 of Primal Mirror

Chapter 10

A9: I’ve experienced increased sensitivity the deeper I get into my pregnancy. I can still sleep in my bed, but I think that’s only because I’ve had it for three years. I tried to use a new piece of mass-produced furniture yesterday and nearly had an aneurysm from the scream of voices inside my head. Am I going insane?

—Post on Psycho & Metrics: A forum for Ps-Psy (26 September 2083)

HER INTERACTION WITH Remington Denier—Remi—was at the forefront of Auden’s mind when she finally walked back inside the cabin. The tip of her nose felt like ice, but her skin was invigorated and her mind alive with fascination.

She knew that Remi likely wasn’t worried about her at all, that the entire conversation had been a clever game of chess to gain more information from her, but regardless…it had been odd, how he’d looked at her.

As if he wanted to strangle her for being out here on her own.

Frowning, Auden shook off the thought. Remington Denier had given no indication of any urge to take such violent action. That was just her making things up to fill the gaps in her knowledge of how normal people were meant to behave.

Because if there was one thing Auden knew, it was that she wasn’t normal.

She ran her hand over the small chair she’d made herself using materials she’d fabricated with her own three-dimensional printer. It was badly done. Crooked joins, scratches where she’d slipped with a tool, and no real aesthetic to its chunky frame, but to her, it was as precious as gold because when she touched it, she tasted no one else’s memories, no one else’s leftover emotions.

It was hers to use, with no ghost hanging off it.

The same with the seat cushion she’d sewn herself. Of course others had handled the fabric, the stuffing, but no one tended to get particularly emotional about a bolt of fabric, or a packet of needles, or a bag of stuffing. In general, the material needed to create an item received less handling than the completed object—and the imprint usually faded if she set the materials aside for a month or so.

Imprints on completed objects tended to be “stickier.” Whether because the object was an emotive thing in itself—an example might be a cradle handcrafted for a beloved child—or because of the person who’d utilized it.

One of the Ps-Psy in the small but active online group of which Auden was a member under a pseudonym had once gone to a relative’s home and sat in a chair…only to be jolted with images of blood dripping off a blade. His relative had found the chair at a secondhand shop, and it had no provenance.

Now that psychometric couldn’t sit on any chair without suffering a panic attack.

Auden had previously relied on mass-produced items, which usually only held a background murmur that faded within a matter of days or weeks, but her pregnancy had pushed her ability into hyperdrive. She’d asked about it in the group, received commiserations from several other members. It turned out that pregnancy-related sensitivity was a known side effect for a minority of the group.

Kellie99 (Admin): I almost ended up locked in a psych ward—gee, that sure would’ve helped!

Sl8q: What helped me was sourcing goods made by empaths. They’re rare because Es are needed in other capacities, but so worth the peace they bring. (p.s. Kellie99, is that the reason behind the name of this forum?)

Kellie99 (Admin): Ding ding! I set up the forum the day after I escaped incarceration by PsyMed. Rest of our own damn race can’t be bothered to know anything about us or how our brains function. Sorry you’re having to deal with this A9. You’d think they’d have figured out a solution by now.

Hive2907: I found it helpful to use natural materials that I—or my mother—gathered. My mother is a calm individual who tends not to leave “busy” imprints, and while neither one of us is very handy, we managed to put together a few rough bits of furniture between us.

B2cc: I suggest an investment in a 3D printer. (p.s. Kellie99, I thought the forum name was funny even when I was pretending to be Silent. Heh!)

Auden had tried for the E-sourced items at first, but they were snapped up at the speed of light by other Ps-Psy in the same position—and financially speaking, she had far more resources than many of her fellow psychometrics. She hadn’t attempted to outbid them.

Instead, she’d gone for the printing option. Only…

“This chair will collapse if I sit on it.” She sighed as she accepted the truth; it wasn’t the object’s fault she’d put it together with such a lack of skill or finesse.

At least her cabin was usable. Soon as her mind had begun to function well enough to consider her options, she’d ordered this build—a build that was machine prefabricated. The contractors who’d put it together had done so using heavy-duty gloves, under secondary shielding provided by a Scott security team.

She’d then left the cabin “fallow” for a month.

So far, she’d only picked up the odd “ghost” in the materials, mostly faint echoes of a detail-oriented machine operator. It helped that she had a habit of wearing socks most of the time.

It wasn’t, however, psychometric tripwires alone about which Auden had to worry.

Utilizing financial sleight of hand that she’d learned at her father’s knee, she’d secretly purchased a small but high-spec surveillance detection device. She’d run the first scan upon her arrival, discovered two cameras and three listening devices, but would do another scan today to confirm she’d eliminated the bugs. After that, she’d check the bunker for any hidden threats—just in case.

Then she’d consider how to create a foolproof exit strategy for the child in her womb.

For now, she needed to put up her feet—and with the chair out of the question, it would have to be the futon laid directly on the floor. An impractical bed for a woman in her state; getting either down to it, or up from it was a major operation.

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