Page 19 of Ascendent
“I don’t care. I don’t want a new doctor.”
“Sasha—”
“I trustyou,” Sasha ground out through gritted teeth. “Sergey trusts you. There’s no one else. No one else who—” He swallowed. Looked down, and picked at the seam on his jeans.
“Thatis hardly a concern to NASA.”
“But it’s still one here.” Sasha met his gaze. Dr. Voronov was kind when he had no reason to be, always choosing to be gentle, to help. It was no wonder Sergey had collected the man, had kept him around for years and years, moving him from assignment to assignment.
Dr. Voronov sighed. “One day, you will have to accept this part of you.”
A rubber band snap, a smear of color and sound. Sasha blinked, tilted to the left. The world washed in white, a haze of snow and smoke. He blinked again, and everything changed. Gone was the medical suite and Dr. Voronov.
Instead, Kilaqqi knelt beside a fire in his reindeer-hide yurt, dropping dried leaves over the flames. Acrid, pungent smoke burned Sasha’s eyes, made them water. Kilaqqi hummed, his low, thin voice chanting a string of words in his tribal language.
Sasha lay on his back, smothered in furs. He was freezing, his bones made of ice, cold from the inside out. He tried to look around. He couldn’t move.
Kilaqqi spoke.“You cut out the parts of yourself you do not want. Threw them away like you could get rid of them.”
He was in a memory. Lost in his mind. Sasha blinked. Kilaqqi shimmered in the smoke, as if his memory had been fast forwarded.
“Cutting out a soul is no easy thing. What hate you must have within you, of yourself—”
“Sasha!”
A hand cupped his cheek. Sasha jerked. Kilaqqi, the snow, the yurt, the smoke, vanished, smearing away as fast as they had appeared. He blinked, his gaze darting around the medical suite.
He was back. He’d tumbled from his memory, back to reality. Back to Dr. Voronov peering into his eyes, two fingers pushed against his thready pulse.
“What happened?” Dr. Voronov demanded. “Where did you go?”
“Just a memory. Lost in thought.” Ice cracked in the corners of his mind. Webs of frost snaked over his vision. His bones ached.
“Your pulse is racing.” Dr. Voronov grabbed his stethoscope and pressed the cool bell to Sasha’s chest, under this shirt.
“Something you said made me think of him.”
“Who?”
He held his breath. Ice was filling his lungs again. “A man I met. Someone who saved my life. In Siberia.” He swallowed. “A tribesman.”
Dr. Voronov stepped back and draped the stethoscope around his neck. His eyes pinched as he stared at Sasha. “We are going to need to talk about your mental state.”
He could feel the walls coming down, airlocks shutting in his soul, barricades falling against invaders. His lungs froze solid. “I’m fine. There’s nothing to discuss.”
“Sasha—”
He plucked at the IV, at the needle buried in his skin. “How much longer?” It would freeze inside of him if it remained. He was going to turn to ice, right there in front of Dr. Voronov.
He had to go, right now. Had to run.
“You have been through many traumatic experiences in only six months. You’ve had a panic attack, and I’m certain this isn’t the first. There is something living inside of you, something dark that is eating you alive. We need to work on that.”
“I alreadyknowI’m broken!” Sasha snapped. “There’s no fixingthat! No surgery forthat!”
“I’m not talking about your sexuality.”
Sasha hissed. His blood froze. His heart hammered, trying to pump slush through his body, past bones made of ice, through muscles corded with frost. He glared at the door, at the walls, at Dr. Voronov. He wanted to crawl under the hospital bed, under the floor tiles, disappear into the Earth’s crust.Never, ever say it out loud. It wasn’t as powerful if he didn’t.
