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Sometimes, Dr Saunders, the new Dr Saunders, stares at him like she thinks his head is full of bubblewrap, and not a brain the size of a planet.
“Seriously, Mr Brink? What do you know about libido in the over 70s?”
“Umm.. other than it’s really gross?” Topher felt squeamish, imagining all that wrinkled, saggy flesh bouncing around. He put down his juice box, his throat a little tight.
“The female body is fundamentally driven by reproductive needs. Once a woman is past menopause, libido reduces significantly. Estrogen, progest – well, you know all of this.”
“Is there a point galloping over the hill towards this conversation?”
Dr Saunders sighed. “Victor has had five engagements in the past two months with a client in her seventies. That’s an awful lot of money for a woman who probably isn’t that interested in sex, to spend.”
“Maybe they play canasta?”
“You know I check the actives when they come back in. They aren’t playing canasta.”
Eww. Checking Victor over. That was plain wrong. “So what are you saying? She’s a freak of nature? She’s.. hiring him out as a love slave? Does it matter?”
“Yes.” And here came the sermon. “Victor is in our care. He probably isn’t doing what the client tells us he is; and we’re using multiple imprints of the same personality in the same active, which could lead to longer term structural damage.
We should know why we’re making him take a risk.”
Morals. Ethics. They crept in every damn place, and they were never fun, or even that interesting.
Topher sighed, sat at the terminal, and started pulling files together. “Ok. You’d better keep Ivy out of the way though. Anything not ‘Adelle sanctioned’ makes her super-twitchy.”
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“Gross. Seriously?”
Mike, a relatively new addition to the active fold, looked puzzled. “You seem surprised. Katherine’s a beautiful woman.”
Topher couldn’t help himself. He’d made a slightly less discrete version of Roger, and now he found himself with the opportunity to ask all kinds of really unpleasant questions, and he couldn’t stop. “Isn’t her skin kind of.. gravitationally challenged? What do you guys do for a whole weekend? Doesn’t she need a lot of nap time? Or do you share the diazepan and it's all fuzzy good n' sleepy??”
Roger/Mike chuckled. “Oh, young Topher. So ignorant in the ways of women. I woo her. We spar. Fencing; dancing; long walks along the beach.”
“Really?”
“Really. And then.. well, you’re a man of the world. We enjoy each other’s company, shall we say. A lot of company.”
Topher shook his head. “I’m not so much of the world, more of the bunker. But, hey, whatever floats. Just so I’m clear, she’s an old chick, right?”
“So unkind. A mature lady of great wit and wisdom.” He smiled conspiratorially. Roger/Victor and Roger/Mike had uncannily similar facial expressions. Maybe Topher should get them together and see what a charm implosion looked like. “And, may I say,” Roger/Mike continued, “a fantastic..”
*click, click, click, click.* Heels on wood.
Both men fell silent, Roger/Mike in curiosity, Topher in terror.
A tall, slender, female silhouette.
“Shhh,” Topher hissed, “don’t say a word. This is my boss and she gets mad if I have.. friends.. over….”
The partition door slid back.
A sharp, British accent. With no rolled rs.
“Topher, what’s going on? I don’t believe Mi..”
Roger/Mike sprung to his feet and took Adelle’s hand, kissing it softly. “Katherine! What a marvellous surprise! I..”
Topher lost the ability to control his jaw muscles. "Whu..?"
Sharply, instantly, panicked, she clipped back at Mike, “Would you like a treatment?”
“Why yes, I…”
Adelle brusquely led him back to the chair. “You know what to do, Mr Brink. Then my office. Immediately. Bring your grovelling mat.”
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Topher’s heart beat a little fast, and his hands were clammy. He rubbed them dry, or drier at least, on his pants, before he pushed the door open.
Adelle was, as she was too often these days, at the decanters, pouring something that smelled like it’d kill all known germs, into a large balloon glass.
She spoke without turning. “I’ve sent men to the attic for less.”
Topher didn’t think that was true. Was it? Not in his time, but of course there’d been people before him. And he knew Ivy wasn’t ready to replace him.
“I.. was just conducting a..”
“Did Mr Dominic sign off on the imprint?”
Ah. Well, no. That was a breach of procedure.
Which maybe he could spin to his benefit. “It was just a routine assessment. Dr Saunders was concerned about the repeat assignments and… well.. Dominic’d approved them, and he is kinda creepy, so we were making sure he wasn’t… ”
Adelle spun around to look him in the eyes. “Don’t take me for a fool, Mr Brink. He is my head of security, I made the appointment personally, and I trust him implicitly.
“You were curious. You thought I wouldn’t notice.
“Haven’t you learned yet? Nothing, but nothing, happens in my house that I am unaware of.
Including your.. minion abuse. Ivy is not your personal grocery delivery service.”
What – that was *it*? That was the worst thing she had on him?
“Or,” Adelle continued, “your personal clean urine supply. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice that we can track the stage of your menstrual cycle from your drug test samples?”
*Shit.*
Silence.
Stuttering. “A.. a little relaxant wu-once in a while. Plus, crazy season? You know I can’t s-s-stay awake 48 hours at a time without a little help…”
He’d broken her rules. He knew her secret.
But they were friends, sort of, weren’t they? Y’know, trampoline night? Inapproriate starches? They’d seen each others underwear and still worked together.
*Stop thinking about her panties when she’s about to fry your brain*
“Mr Brink, we will never speak of this matter again. And if there is one more breach of protocol – just one more…”
#################################################################
It killed him, after that. Lying to Saunders, making believe Katherine really was an aging romantic nymphomaniac, pretending he didn’t know,
*thinking about them together*
Knowing Dominic knew something was up, having his every single move monitored.
*wondering what she was like*
Spending every day and night clean and sober.
*which was a but hypocritical given how tanked Adelle got sometimes, and why was that then? there had to be a better way of working out tensions*
Ah hell. As soon as crazy season was over, Topher resolved, he was going to have to get laid. Time to pretend he was squishy and caring on geek2geek again.
##################################################################
Topher was exhausted. What was it, seven, eight days since he’d seen daylight? His eyes were tried and dry from staring at the neuromodulator.
And Adelle wanted Roger, as soon as there was a break in his schedule, and Victor was booked back to back for weeks.
And boy, was she a bitch when she didn’t get what she wanted.
Luckily, he was too tired to care. Topher slumped into his bunk, and almost immediately passed out.
####################################################################
“Look at them. Don’t you think they look peaceful?”
“Mmm. Quiet ungulates herding towards finger paint class.”
Ah hell.
Victor and Sierra were holding hands again. Adelle didn’t need to see…
Topher started to look and snapped his head back to face forward quickly.
He did not need to see the ice queen cry.
####################################################################
“I almost forgot. Shelf the Roger imprint. Miss Loneyhearts and phoned and said she no longer requires his services.”
“Some hunky octogenarian sweep her off her walker?” Topher giggled – giggled, goddamit – nervously. His way of asking Adelle if maybe she was dating. Without actually asking, because why would you ask?
*Why did I ask?*
“Nothing so dramatic. She finally realised the indiscretion was unwise.”
Interesting. No reaction. It was like Adelle had forgotten he ever knew.
Topher could live with that. He could more than live with that.
##################################################################
Mr Dominic was gone. Adelle’s ‘hand picked’ head of security.
Adelle’s friend was dead.
Alpha was back.
And Victor was all scarred up.
Adelle could cope with many things, but guilt was not one of them.
While Dr Saunders worked on Victor, Topher kept Adelle and her brandy company.
Nothing happened. Nothing was going to happen. If nothing happened when they were full of adreneline and drunk to the eyeballs, nothing was ever going to happen.
There was never going to be a right time. They were never going to have a calm, peaceful time again.
####################################################################
Adelle looked over to Topher’s lab, at his features lit up by the screen, frowning in concentration.
Probably the only one smart enough to understand her. And now, he didn’t trust her. Would probably never trust her again.
There was a time when they’d been close. When it had felt like they were in it together. And now.. now, the world had moved on, and she would have to do some very ugly things to protect him. To protect them all.
Perhaps, when this was all over, they could be together. Maybe as lovers, maybe companions. Twenty years; a huge gap for a twenty year old, a smaller gap when you were thirty. How long, until this was over? Until Rossum was dealt with?
Perhaps they would have to be together. If you hadn’t lived through it, you would never be able to understand it. Perhaps they were spoiled for anyone else.
Perhaps he’d forgive her.
If only, if only he didn’t know, what he knew.
And… making people forget things? If it made them happy – well, that was her business, too.
Yes. There was no reason why Topher had to know anything.