|
↓ Содержание ↓
↑ Свернуть ↑
|
Three days flew by swiftly in one chaotic layer of memories. Work, work, work, work, occasionally interrupted for food and sleep. And that's forced. I hardly left the infirmary, spending long hours in the mental space of the matriarch's mind, untangling the numerous cords that attach the drill to the victim's consciousness and subconscious. And there were just an obscene number of these strands, from strong to almost imperceptible, affecting the shades of meaning and the smallest nuances. All this required accuracy, patience and, most importantly, time. And, as always, there is not enough of it at the right moment, but at the wrong time — it stretches and stretches, exhausting the nerves...
I shook my head. Unnecessary thoughts. In eleven hours, Normandy will come out of the tunnel at the Citadel repeater, and I haven't even finished with the drill yet! May this Nazara burn in the flames of decay! Paranoid creature! The ancient bastard! That's WHY it was necessary to tie this fucking drill to a subconscious layer of instincts? What for??? No, I understand that these are the rules of the mentalist's work: to stabilize the aggressor's structure as much as possible, tying it to the body's natural reactions! But not to the same extent! Give me a quiet ten days, and I'll take all this crap off without a trace, it's elementary, though unnecessarily complicated! But! I DON'T have those ten days!
Honestly, I have other priorities right now... Shields for two overprotective Turians, who, I sensed perfectly well, were currently discussing something with Karin in the next room. Three mother hens, e-May! Oh, yeah... Five mother hens! Liara suddenly joined in, singing along with Karin almost instantly, and was torn with excitement between her mother, the limp doll sitting in front of me, and, in fact, my person, who now looks like a not-too-fresh corpse. Besides, Rex showed some attention, at least unobtrusively. But this red-faced, aggressive bastard had driven Garrus to a state of almost uncontrollable rage over the past three days, and the calm Nihlus to frenzy! As a result — sparring in the hold in full contact and with almost no restrictions! How Garrus got up the next day after such a beating, Chaos alone knows! Rex still walks cautiously, and turns his whole body, hissing and swearing at the "bony, nimble bastard". At first, Nihlus gave him a hard time, and Garrus added. The next day.
The weight finally thinned and disintegrated, releasing the connection with the instinctive reaction to bright light. Damn it, when I saw those three faces yesterday, I almost felt sick! I never thought that a Krogan could be so decorated in hand-to-hand combat in six minutes that Karin would mend him in the infirmary for an hour!
The door leading into the wall rustled, letting Garrus enter the infirmary, happy with his life. The Turian examined me carefully, noticed that I was no longer in a trance, nodded in greeting and handed me a food container.
"Are you feeding them?"
Garrus twitched his mandibles and smiled broadly. A Turian smile is something! An unprepared person will have a heart attack! Dilated mandibles, a completely carnivorous grin in all sharp wedge-shaped fangs... Lovely! And the eyes are snide, snide!
As it turned out, Vakarian is still an ulcer! Where is there a canonical image! During these days, he got used to it, calmed down and.. Here we go! Lively, sharp, quirky mind, rich imagination and perverted humor... It's just lovely! Moreover, Nihlus sometimes supports him in bullying his neighbor. And where did his tact go at the right moment? Wonders... Alenko was fucked up by these two brain bugs for half a day to such a state that he ran away to Liara and Rex. To study... Well, well... Rather, the unfortunate biotic asked Krogan for political asylum in the arsenal! But she's really studying now, and Liara has taken up a useful job, otherwise Azari was constantly jostling in the infirmary and hypnotizing her limp mother, greatly interfering and clogging her mental with bright powerful emotions. When I was ready to kick her out in a not-so-good way, Nihlus, who noticed my feisty face and a storm of emotions, talked the idle Garrus into it, and the two raped Kayden's brains, engaging the nervous Liara in at least some socially useful activity.
Garrus spread his hands, feigning remorse, and purred:
"You have to, since you regularly forget." I couldn't help but smile. He knows how much I appreciate your concern. After opening the container, I began to eat under the attentive gaze of incredibly bright blue eyes. The menu, as always, includes meat, meat, meat seasoned with various sauces, no side dishes, some kind of interesting salad and something unidentifiable, but VERY tasty. The food is clearly inhumane in the form of green lumpy mashed potatoes, but it tastes like fried potatoes with mushrooms and... mmm... a slight hint of pepper. After all, our chef is a genius!
"Have you tried on the role of a personal babysitter?" I raised an eyebrow, twirling some long green stuff around my fork. Garrus sprawled on the next bed, his mandibles twitching slightly from the pain in his injured shoulder. The tank top revealed in all its dubious glory juicy bluish bruises blooming on coffee-colored skin, and deep lacerations from claws. Atas... a domestic cat after the division of the territory... And the muzzle is just as pleased.
"Do you mind?"
"If I'd minded, you'd have been the second to find out. Right after me."
Garrus whinnied, involuntarily clutching his aching ribs.
"You tell me one thing. What didn't you share with Rex?"
"We just drew a line under old disagreements." The former C-Sec investigator grinned. "I've worked with him more than once... I've encountered it." The Turian diplomatically called them repeated shootings. "So the questions have accumulated."
"And you decided to discuss them in a fight?"
"In sparring." the guy corrected me, but the mug, the mug! He's positively beaming with joy.
"Oh yeah... I saw your "sparring". And I heard it. "You won't have time to mess up what Rex told you in three years, even if you try, but you've done it in six months!"
"I am very responsible about my work." Garrus nonchalantly waved his hand, and I saw a suspicious swelling on his side.
"What's that?"
"And... this." Garrus glanced at me, but confessed. "Rex broke the plate."
I closed my eyes. She exhaled slowly.
"Your mother! We're leaving for Vermaer soon! And I have three of the strongest fighters who brought each other to the infirmary! Shine is simple! Garrus, you're not going ANYWHERE if there's even a scratch on your skin! Do you understand me?"
The Turian nodded slowly, staring intently into my eyes. I'm glad that at least I took the warning seriously.
"How's the shoulder?"
"It's almost healed."
That's... well, how could you get into a fight with a Krogan in full contact with an untreated through wound! And Rex is good! An adult man, fought a lot, but here... Okay, Nihlus only got off with bruises and a couple of deep scratches, but Garrus is something... And to hell with them, well, they got into a fight, but not a week before the landing! Oh well... but at least they closed all their grates, otherwise they would listen to the constant conflicts between Garrus and Rex on the basis of their skirmishes on the Citadel... I'm sick of it! It was necessary to assemble a mercenary and a C-Sec investigator in one squad, who poisoned his life with gusto and ingenuity. Yes, he poisoned them... He almost killed him! The gods truly love Rex, since Garrus MISSED him and the bullet slid across his forehead instead of entering his temple. I saw this vivid image in Garrus' head: the first shot to Batar's forehead, the translation of the sight, the shot, the unsuccessfully tripping Krogan, the miss, the flash of irritation, the beep of reloading and the enemy running behind the box. Interestingly, Rex remembers this moment too.
"I hope this doesn't happen again. You can punch each other in the face for your own pleasure, but not to the detriment of combat readiness! I'll give Rex a separate pump later."
Garrus chuckled.
"No need. Nihlus had already done it when he saw it... the results of the battle."
"At least some of you had the brains to assess the consequences."
There was a satisfied chuckle from behind.
"Wow, what a thing... a high assessment of my mental abilities." Nihlus tore himself away from the wall, which he had been propping up with his shoulder all this time, came over and sat down on a chair.
"Be grateful that I didn't go through your very abilities for fighting on board."
"It was sparring." Nihlus grinned toothily, which looked very interesting with his ancestral tattoo.
"Don't tell me stories. I am quite able to distinguish sparring from a banal fight."
In response, impudent fanged heads and contented faces.
"You're eating. Sebastian will be offended if his efforts are not appreciated."
"I think. His efforts have ALREADY been appreciated by the ENTIRE crew." I smiled.
Sebastian's cooking was simply divine, although he sometimes complained that the one who bought the food was clearly thinking of the wrong place. We'll fly to the Citadel and send him shopping. This kind of food definitely lifts the mood and morale.
"What is the progress?" Nihlus nodded at Asari, who was sitting blankly in a trance.
"What is it?" I was wondering how to describe the situation so obscenely, poking a piece of meat with a fork. "It would have been ten days... but it's lousy. I don't have time to remove the drill before the Citadel. The entire array of bookmarks will remain untouched. Take it off for at least a week."
"Do you want to leave Benezia at the Citadel?"
"I'll have something to do on the way." Before Vermeer, by you, and after... I grimaced. "I think Saren's mind is in a terrible state. I don't even want to think about what the Reaper could have brought him to with constant contact. So the matriarch will have to wait. Although... — the thought that came to my mind was quite interesting, although Liara is unlikely to appreciate my idea of using her mother as a training ground for studying the mental skills of the Ruler.
I must have a really expressive face, because the Turians looked at each other and stared suspiciously at the blue lady.
"Liara won't appreciate it."
"Of course! But leaving it as it is is also not good. I shifted my gaze to the matriarch, giving her the order to sleep. "Garrus, have you changed your mind?"
Bright blue eyes looked at me with a degree of doubt and misunderstanding.
"no."
"Go-od." raising my head to the ceiling, I asked loudly: "Joker, how far are we to the Citadel?"
"Ten hours to exit the repeater, three more to the station." the pilot answered me, shamelessly eavesdropping on all conversations on the ship.
"Give me an hour's notice before you leave."
"OK."
I finished my meal and set the container aside.
"Garrus, now..."
"Now you go and get some sleep." The Turian snapped. "Have you seen yourself in the mirror?"
"I saw it. I shrugged my shoulders. — You have to pay for everything. I'll rest on the Citadel.
In response, there are two skeptical glances.
"There's not much time.
"It's always not enough." Nihlus replied softly. "Don't make us turn to Karin for help. She's had a tranquilizer gun ready since yesterday. And so they were barely dissuaded from the idea of trying it out."
A tranquilizer? Quite possibly. Moreover, Karin has been looking at me for the past day with equal parts concern and discontent. Apparently, Nihlus persuaded the doctor not to use extreme measures.
"Rin, upon arrival at the Citadel, you will have to report to the Council. You shouldn't go to them in this state."
"A couple of hours won't solve anything, since you're a week short." Garrus added.
And you're right...
— Okay. I raised my hands.
The Turians escorted me to my cabin under the curious gazes of the crew and dumped me.
I couldn't sleep at all. I was lying in bed and staring at the ceiling, and thoughts were crowding in my head, reminding me of the problems. Small and not so big. Benezia, who cannot be released from the ship, ten Asari marines sleeping in capsules, the Rachni queen, the crew, the Alliance, my former leadership, the Council, Saren, Nazara... I was sorting through my memory of the canon, and the more I studied it, the more I realized what kind of outright bullshit it was... hmm... Well, fuck him, the canon. But what should I do with the Lord? He won't miss the Normandy in any way. Not that level. Send the ship out of the system? Where and how far? How to intercept Saren in the lab and not bring the matter to a cannonball fight? I will deal with his condition when I can capture him. Not just the mental one. If my sclerosis doesn't let me down, his body has been plowed over a lot... I hope it didn't come to implants. What to do with the Reaper? Questions, questions...
My thoughts turned smoothly to the Normandy and, most importantly, to her crew. And here the problem arises in all its unsightly glory. Until now, I hadn't done anything that might interest my superiors, but during this flight, I felt close attention more than once. I know perfectly well that someone from the crew is tapping the Alliance's Air Force about all my actions. If earlier it was even to my advantage to some extent, now I don't need excessive awareness. And what should I do?
I rolled over onto my side, wrapping the blanket up to my eyes. Damn it! Cold... Not physically: the temperature in the cabin is quite comfortable. The cold comes from an excessive loss of vital energy. Mentalism is energy-intensive. Moreover, such a delicate and painstaking job. I will recover the losses only after two days, if there are no loads and with plenty of food. There is, of course, another way to quickly replenish losses, but it is not yet available to me. No. Not like that. Available, of course. But... It's better not to rush. There is a time for everything.
The doors began to move, allowing Nihlus to enter the cabin. I'm wondering how he convinced the ship's VEE to let him into the captain's cabin without my permission. Okay, everyone has their own secrets, but still... He's usually more sensitive about my personal space. And now... Did you really come to check if I was asleep or not?
I didn't even have to dive into his mind, it was enough to count the top images. Yes, I came. That's exactly what to check. Worried. My appearance caused quite reasonable concerns: pale, almost transparent skin, on which blue veins stand out vividly, dark circles under my eyes, twitchy movements, and low body temperature. And Karin compounded these fears with a report on the exhaustion of the body.
"You're not sleeping." — a quiet vibrating voice with a barely noticeable reproach.
A simple statement of fact.
"I can't." I replied softly, turning my head.
The Turian came over and squatted by the bed.
"You can." You're a mentalist, and you can do anything with your mind. I told you so myself.
"She did." I obediently agreed, shivering slightly from the cold. "But you shouldn't force yourself to sleep."
The green eyes narrowed. Who would have doubted that he would notice... A hot palm touched my forehead, physically radiating the energy I needed so much.
"Are you cold?"
A well-posed question.
"yes."
A short pause and another correct question:
Is it cold?
"no."
It didn't take him long to put one and one together.
"The reasons?"
I sighed.
"Everything requires energy. And mentalism, too. It's not critical. The body will recover in a day or two."
"And you're going to be cold all the time?" "What is it?" he asked skeptically.
"I will."
Nihlus fell silent, staring intently at my face. I could literally physically feel his presence: in this state, my body acquired all the features of an energy vampire, absorbing unattended energy from others, and now the only living being in the cabin was a Turian.
Any healthy organism always radiates vital energy into the surrounding space if it cannot direct it to its own needs or if it produces more than it needs to. Gradually, these surpluses form a peculiar aura. That's the feeling of a "lived-in" place. It doesn't matter if it's a house or a ship. That is why it is so unpleasant for any living person to be in burial sites, in abandoned houses or cities, on dead planets and ships. They completely lack this aura, and sometimes ancient buildings acquire the properties of a vampire. Burial grounds and necropolises are especially guilty of this.
The Normandy is a relatively new ship, it has not yet been properly inhabited, the feeling of home has not yet grown to it, and the vital aura has just begun to take shape. A year will pass, and it will acquire all the properties of a residential building. With an active life aura, wounds heal faster, the body rests and nourishes better, the psyche is more stable, and the intelligent are less susceptible to stress. Right now, Jeff is feeding the aura the most, having already managed to sincerely love this ship. But the harder it will be for him to part with it The Normandy is a relatively new ship, it has not yet been properly inhabited, the feeling of home has not yet grown to it, and the vital aura has just begun to take shape. A year will pass, and it will acquire all the properties of a residential building. With an active life aura, wounds heal faster, the body rests and nourishes better, the psyche is more stable, and the intelligent are less susceptible to stress. Right now, Jeff is feeding the aura the most, having already managed to sincerely love this ship. But the harder it will be for him to part with it. I perfectly understand why the Joker was so stubborn in the canon, couldn't bring himself to leave Normandy, and tried to save her until the very end. This is normal. He is her Core. He is the center of the formation of the vital aura, he is attached to the ship as a living being. Moreover, a sincerely adored being. It's a pity that this "Normandy" will die without becoming a full-fledged home for us.
Nihlus took his hand away, and I shuddered involunta
"Can I help you?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"You can."
Nihlus chuckled.
"Which question is the answer?" There was a hint of sad irony in his voice. "Rin, you know perfectly well what can help you now. I don't think this is your first time experiencing energy exhaustion. Am I right?"
I grimaced and nodded. Of course I do! Not that it's not the first time, but I'm in it with depressing regularity as soon as the problems start! And my life and my problems are synonymous.
"I'm listening to you carefully."
A veiled, but nevertheless tough order. Right now, he won't accept a rejection or a streamlined response. The question was asked with a clear and sincere desire to help. Nihlus is REALLY ready to do everything in his power. And he knows perfectly well that I feel it. He knows and uses it. Trust breeds trust... A mental mirror in all its dubious glory.
Yes, I can block the sensitivity and do it... some kind of decent stupidity, in a mild way, to send the Turian away... but why ? Why should I offend one of the few reasonable people who truly treat me with all their hearts? He genuinely cares about me. Without any subtext or ulterior motives. If I send him away with this concern now, it's like spitting in the soul. Such... He doesn't say goodbye. Never. At the level of instincts and subconsciousness. I know better...
"Mentalism, especially since it is so deep, consumes a lot of vital energy. I finally decided to answer." Any living being produces more of it than is required to meet the needs of its own body. This is a defense mechanism that allows you to compensate for unexpected expenses. The excess is poured into the surrounding space and forms a comfortable aura for life. The Norma has not yet managed to form its life aura completely: the core and main contours have just been born, because the ship is not yet perceived as a home. With a critical drop in vital energy, my body begins to pull it from the external environment, just like any other. Except that it's much more active. But there's nothing to delay here yet. So I'm freezing until my body covers the shortage on its own.
Nihlus silently rubbed his palm, looking questioningly into my eyes.
"Yes, with direct physical contact, you can delay much more and faster. Such a kind of energetic vampirism. It stops when the level necessary for normal functioning is restored, and then the shortage is covered by natural production."
"What is the barrier?"
"Some types of metals, inorganic compounds, or thick obstacles larger than sixteen centimeters. All animal or vegetable components such as wood, leather or natural fabrics are not a screen due to their origin."
"How much exhaustion do you have?"
"Not critical."
"Rin!"
I sighed.
"Half as much as is necessary for normal functioning. That's why it looks like this."
"How fast does your body absorb energy?"
"Depends on the source. Slightly more than the natural release of excess, but no more than one and a half values."
Apparently, Nihlus found out what he wanted. He got up, easily picked me up in his arms, wrapped me in a blanket, sat on the bed with his back against the wall, and sat me on his knees, hugging me tightly to his chest. And almost instantly I felt the deathly permafrost pass, my body was filled with warmth, and the reserve was rapidly replenished.
"Sleep." a calm, vibrant voice sounded above his head.
"Will you keep it that way?"
A quiet chuckle and an ironic question:
"Do you mind?"
"No. Just keep in mind... I can feel you."
"I'll get over it. Go to sleep."
I warmed up and quickly fell asleep. And for the first time since Eden Prime, I didn't have the bloody nightmares of a dying civilization...
|
↓ Содержание ↓
↑ Свернуть ↑
|
