Page 31 of Guiding Desire

“Nope,” Vin said and walked right past the man.

Col leaned close to Senlas. “See why I brought him? Vinnie, my sugar cube, if I ever get hurt, I want your face to be the first I see when I wake up to dramatic music in a hospital gown.”

Vin gave Col a nonplussed look.

They got to a second hallway that readStem Cell Treatment. Vin went down that one and stopped in front of a door maybe ten paces in. The sliding door was full glass, and its screen let them know that a procedure was in process.

Orrey was awake. He was moving, as much as anyone could with people fussing about one’s face, which Senlas couldn’t see. Orrey’s ears were covered with what looked like an oversized headset, so at least they had already started the nanite treatment.

The physicians and nurses—Senlas couldn’t tell whether they were the same who had taken Orrey in, given they were fully covered in surgical gowns and face masks—looked professional, like they knew exactly what they were doing. It should have put Senlas’s mind at ease but didn’t. One of the nurses petted Orrey’s arm, and Senlas felt immediately guilty for having allowed them to make him wait, for not insisting he stay with Orrey. He should be in there, holding his Conduit’s hand.

“How long’s this going to take?” Senlas asked.

“A typical reconstruction of this size shouldn’t take our specialists more than an hour,” the triage bot chimed in.

“I sort of hate that this thing sounds so happy,” Vin said.

“A positive outlook can be helpful for relatives,” the bot said, making Senlas wonder what was wrong with its AI chip that it would argue with Vin.

Col ignored their exchange and asked Vin, “Are they planning on keeping him?”

Vin shrugged. “Yeah, but just for a few hours until the nanites are done, and for observation.

“Tell his mother,” Senlas said.

He saw Col nod out of the corner of his eye and turn to the bot. “Show me to a quiet waiting room.”

The bot wisely chose not to complain, and Vin and Senlas remained behind, watching, unable to do anything.

“He’ll be fine. That’s what matters,” Vin said. “But it could have gone a different way. We saw the surveillance. He didn’t even think, he just ran, didn’t stop to check in with you. Even for a protector, that kind of thing is on the extreme end.”

“He wanted to help people.”

“He did. Got himself nearly killed, but did the damn thing he set out to do. I’d bend him over my knee if it were me, but you’re too soft for that. We’re taking him on missions, aren’t we?”

Senlas turned to Vin. “Op-AI suggested that. How do you know?”

“’Cause I use my brain to think. Someone like that might go stir crazy if kept where things’re safe. It stands to reason Op-AI knows that. Anyway, I’ll keep both eyes on him. Just wanted you to know. If I see him do stupid stuff like that, I’ll take him over, and you don’t get to be mad at me.”

Senlas sighed. “Fine. Puppeteer him if he endangers himself. I’ll not stand in the way if he doesn’t like it and wishes to complain after.”

Vin snorted. “Too soft. He’ll have you chase his desires in no time.”

Senlas looked back at Orrey, at his hand fussing with the gurney’s disposable sheet.

I can’t wait,Senlas thought.

10

ORREY

Everythingwasagiant,cloudy pool, bits and pieces of events floating there without coalescing into a coherent picture. Orrey kind of knew that someone had injected him with something to make him sleepy when they’d done whatever they’d done with his ears, which was uncomfortable, like having insect larvae hatch in your ear canal. Unless he was mistaken, whatever he’d been given had been topped off at some point.

Bustling motion and too much brightness around him eased, and someone was holding his hand. Orrey opened his eyes, and in doing so remembered that contacts had been put in. Still, the blurred vision made him scared he’d been blinded, wouldn’t see again.

Maybe it was the soothing touches, the soothing—not words because he couldn’t hear those. Sounds.

As he was lying wherever he was lying, without being able to see properly, Orrey focused on who was holding his hand. He thought his mom at first. He was in pain, wasn’t he? It was a distant pain, but he knew it was there. His mom, one of them, would be holding his hand. He’d have liked to have his dad hold the other, but that one was constrained by something medical he didn’t want to dwell on.