Page 20 of Elanie & the Empath
“What about on your day off? Do you have any plans?” Tig glanced down when Sunny grasped her hand.
“Tig,” Sunny began, “Elanie doesn’t?—”
“I don’t get days off,” I said.
Tig’s jaw dropped. “Never?”
I pressed my lips together. Maybe it shouldn’t, but it always astounded me how little most beings knew about bionics. The first few generations of bionics were shrouded in secrecy. But it had been over a century since bionics like me had become available for widespread servitude in the public sector. Information about us—how we’re made, how we’re purchased, what rights we did or didn’t have, how long we were indentured before receiving benefits like time off—was readily available for anyone who took the time to look. More often than not, they didn’t bother.
“I won’t qualify for my first day off for another twenty-three years, forty-two days, and sixteen hours,” I said. “But who’s counting.”
“Twenty-three years?” Tig had stopped blinking. “How can you stand?—”
“It’s just the way it is.” Isla said this with finality, saving me from Tig’s shock and Sunny’s understanding that sometimes felt like pity. “Isn’t that right, Elanie?”
I nodded at Isla, grateful for the conversational shift when she asked if anyone else at the table had seen the most recent episode ofKuiper Worm Chasers.
While they burst into an animated discussion about some worm-related nonsense, my skin seemed to sag, my bones filling with lead. It took me a moment to identify the sensation, because I rarely allowed myself to feel it, but I was exhausted.
It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy being the assistant to the hospitality specialist on this ship. It filled my days. Gave mepurpose. I liked working with Sunny. And what else would I do with my time? I didn’t have any hobbies. No passions. I didn’t even know who I’d be without my work. But when I looked at Dr. Semson across the room, when our eyes met and a corner of his mouth quirked, I couldn’t deny that a small part of me wanted to find out. Maybe I wanted something other than a life of unending service. Maybe I wanted a hobby. Maybe I wanted a passion. Maybe…I wanted more?—
Elanie.
Spinning around, my chair scraping across the floor, I scanned the room. Adrenaline flooded my bloodstream, my heart launching into a chaotic gallop. Because my name, that deep, rumbling voice, it wasn’t from my VC. It wasn’t someone whispering behind me. It wasn’tanything. There was no record of it in my memory at all.
“Are you all right, darling?” Sunny’s brow was furrowed, her lips downturned. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
My heart knocked against my ribs. Was I hallucinating? Was my operating system malfunctioning? My code breaking? My organic neurons misfiring? “I don’t know. I?—”
Join us, Elanie. Join Golgunda.
Gasping, I jolted up from my chair, tipping it over with a crash.
“Stars!” Tig cried.
What was happening to me? How could I hear a voice that didn’t exist?
Sunny stood and grasped my arms. “What’s the matter? Are you ill?”
I reined my panic in tightly. “Bionics don’t get sick.”But we can go insane.“I’m fine. I’m just”—hearing voices—“I need to use the bathroom.
I didn’t wait for Sunny to respond as I turned, stridingtoward the restrooms, walking directly past Dr. Semson’s table where he sat with Freddie and Chan. Where he stood halfway from his chair at the sight of me, his brows pulling together as his lips parted.
Before he could say a word, I put my head down and picked up my pace.
The restroom was cool, quiet and,thank the stars, empty. Sitting on the toilet, I held my breath, listened, waited. There was nothing but the water running through the pipes, the dull thud of bass reverberating from the ballroom.
I searched my memory. Again, nothing. No evidence of any auditory abnormalities. Nobody calling my name. It was like it had never happened.
Burying my face in my hands, I ground my palms into my eyes until tiny galaxies exploded over my vision.
My arms flew out, my palms slamming into the stall walls at the room-tilting sensation of another voice in my head. At least this voice was real.
I commed back.
