LEARNING FEAR.
B. A. CHEPAITIS.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.
Some explanations and acknowledgments are necessary. First, I learned the term abytelocka from Jan Finder, aka the Wombat, who coined it. Hey, Jan, thanks.
Second, if the university described in this book should in any way resemble the State University of New York at Albany, where I received my doctoral degree in writing and met some of my favorite people in the universe, that resemblance must be a coincidence, since this is obviously a work of fiction and the university at Albany is so obviously a real place. Of course, many places in the imagination do resemble real places, and so these little mix-ups are bound to occur.
Pay them no mind at all.
On the other hand, the Native American AIM leader Leonard Peltier, whose great-grandson appears in this work bearing his name, is a real man, and his situation is as Iave described it. As of this writing, Mr. Peltier remains in prison for a crime that the U.S. government admits they donat know who committed. He has been denied retrial to avoid embarra.s.sing the FBI and, Iam told, because some important people want him in jail. Call me naive, but I hate to believe that embarra.s.sment or whim are more important than justice and freedom in what is supposedly a democracy.
In the book, I have written that Mr. Peltier ultimately goes free, in the hope that whoever listens to the stories will hear that one and make it come true. Many people are working for this to happen, and many more can help by writing to their congresspersons and senators, asking them to support executive clemency. You can get further information on how to help by writing Leonard Peltier Defense Committee, PO Box 583, Lawrence, KS 66044, going to Web site story/.html, or E-mail
Finally, the Jaguars and Packers are real football teams. If the Jaguars have already won their Super Bowl, I want them to remember that I wrote this book long before it happened. Another dream waiting to come true.
To my teachersa"Steve North, Judy Johnson, Harry Staley and Frank Sullivana"the very best.
And my studentsa"you know who you area"the best and then some.
Teaching is the greatest act of optimism.
a"Colleen Wilc.o.x
PROLOGUE.
THE FIRST GENERAL FACULTY MEETING OF THE cultural studies department was proceeding according to all known traditions of faculty meetings.
Slowly.
On the agenda was a delegation of committee work, with some argument over who would chair the dissertation requirement review committee, which n.o.body wanted; who would chair the visiting speakers committee, which everybody wanted; some consideration of how to handle current budget cuts; and an introduction of the new on-line grading system, which half the faculty objected to strenuously, and the other half ardently supported.
Professor Harold Smith, cultural linguistics, was objecting loudly and polysyllabically, stressing the risk of hackers changing grades. His voice was lost in the theoretical moment of postmodernist Professor Dena Nalekas paragraph on technophobia and societal change, and her words were subsumed by Yoruba expert Professor Samitu Lakias clear and cogent statement on the dangers of Web snare.
aWeave got a whole program established to keep our students from falling into cybers.p.a.cea"an innovative and I might say progressive program that includes our on-line students. And after all the time it took to establish that, we put our faculty in a position of dependence on computers?a aI agree,a Harold said, his long gray mustache twitching with the impetus of his argument. aWeave had enough trouble with webheads and the like. Why encourage it? I mean, why?a Ethan Davis, dean of the cultural studies department, tapped a pen impatiently against the dark wood of the long table they sat at. aYou may be right, but thatas not getting us anywhere, is it? We canat go on bubbling in grades with number-two pencils forever, can we? What we have to deal with is reality, not tightness.a Professor Emily Rainer, who taught Hebrew and Sumerian texts, clapped her hands lightly in his direction, her many bracelets jangling. aBravo, Ethan. Thatas why you make such a good dean. Your sense of practicality is so much more finely honed than your sense of principles.a He inclined his head toward her in acknowledgment of the truth. aBut the real point is, the University has decided on the system, and we have to make sure all professors know the security procedures. Before this meetingas over, I want one of you to organize that. Understood?a He looked around at them, making sure they did understand, and then nodded. aGood. Next on the agendaa"what is it, Samitu?a Ethan turned toward Samitu, who had tapped him lightly on the arm.
aPardon my interruption, but I would like to add to the agenda. There is a new lecturer arriving, a woman whose resume is rather sketchy, except that she comes here from the Planetoid prison system. Now, there is the general issue of the way these temporary hires are made behind the scenes without our knowledgea"and the way they tend to become permanent,a he said, looking pointedly at Ethan, who had started as a temporary hire.
aSome of our best faculty came to us that way,a Emily said pointedly. Ethanas brief glance showed his grat.i.tude, and her finely drawn mouth turned up in a smile, making all the features on her narrow face soften.
aAgreed. But in this case, I, for one, would like to know why someone from the Planetoids has been asked to teach here. Iam not sure this is appropriate, given our recent controversies.a aVery true, Sammy,a Professor George Norton, resident expert on the Killing Times and their aftermath, stage-whispered, abut better not say it too loud. Our esteemed president might hear you from afar.a aReally, George,a Ethan murmured, aThat was uncalled for.a aIt seems to me,a Harold interjected, athat George has a valid point. We all know the Planetoids are rife witha"well, you know. We all know. Thatas the point.a Ethan closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He had been hoping to run through the agenda in short order, and spend the rest of the evening in mutual enjoyment with the woman to his immediate right. Although she liked to show a tolerant att.i.tude, he could tell by the way she jangled her bracelets that she was feeling impatient, and probably a lot of that impatience was due to the lack of attention head given her of late. He would remedy that tonight, if they could ever get out of here. Harold harrumphed his throat clear and spoke.
aI understand sheas aa"what do they call ita" Teacher? Odd t.i.tle for someone who works with criminals.a aMakes perfect sense to me,a Dena muttered. The other professors smiled. aIs she here to find out what happened to the Gone Girls? After two years of no trouble, one would think we could put that incident behind us.a aNo. She canat be doing that,a George objected, with authority. aPlanetoid Teachers donat do investigative work. They work with fear. Primal, core fears. Even before the Serials, as the prison system broke down due to overcrowding, the idea of approaching crime from its psychological base wasa"a aA very bad idea,a Emily cut in.
Ethan laughed. aChildren. Letas try and stay civilized at least until the semester starts. The new lecturer is part of an exchange program that allows University professors to conduct research on the Planetoids. Thatas been a closed door until now, so we should consider ourselves fortunate.a aBut what will she teach? Restraint procedures?a aSome of our faculty could probably use such a cla.s.s,a Ethan commented, and laughter ensued.
aReally, Ethan,a George said when it died down, awhatas her field?a aWorld religions,a he said. aWith a specialized field from her own background, which is rather rare. Sheas of the Mertec people.a Professor Leonard Peltier, who had been sitting almost invisible and silent, spoke up. aDid you say Mertec?a he asked.
Since he so rarely joined in the discussion at meetings, everyone turned to look at him.
aI knew a Mertec,a he said. aOld man, though. He held a UN seat. But he knew the traditions. Not many left who do.a aWell, Wheread they go?a Samitu asked.
aKilled by Europeans?a Emily suggested, looking sympathetically at Leonard.
aNo,a he said. aEuropeans couldnat catch aem. They just left.a The group stared at him. A light flush crossed Emilyas face and left. Something like a smile crossed Leonardas face. He put it away, and let his gaze wander to Ethan and rest there briefly as if asking a question. Ethan returned the silent stare without any expression of approval or disapproval. Leonard turned to the others.
aMertec share a language base and some ritual behavior with Tzotzil Maya, so itas hypothesized theyare a related group,a he said. aThereas some evidence that they left the Maya cities well before the decline and returned to a nomadic way of life, traveling north. Their name means athe people who walk,a and according to their own story, they were told in a vision to keep walking. They were sort of visiting singers and shamans for other tribes. Mostly they settled in with the tribes of the southwest. Youall see traces of Mertec tradition in a lot of different tribes, though.a Ethan nodded. aSheas granddaughter to the man you mentioned. Not a full-blood, but apparently she knows her culture. She wrote her dissertation on it, and itas a fine one.a aWith her name, it better be,a Leonard commented.
aWhatas her name?a George asked.
Leonard and Ethan exchanged glances.
Leonard shrugged. aJaguar,a he said. aJaguar Addams.a Emily t.i.ttered, then coughed to cover it. Someone could be heard to mumble something about no pets being allowed on campus.
aJaguars,a Ethan pointed out, aarenat pets. At any rate, the decision to send her to us was made on an administrative level. Sheas a temporary appointment, nontenured, a.s.signed to teach a survey course and an honors seminar. And no matter what youave heard about Planetoid workers, sheall have nothing whatsoever to do with the History of Empathic Arts course, so we have no reason to worry or complain.a He looked around the table and saw mouths opening, all ready to contribute their opinion on the Universityas decision to run a course in the history of the empathic arts. He held up a hand to silence them, thinking that the problem with professors was that they were too accustomed to having all the air in the room to themselves.
aNot now,a he said mildly. aThere will be, I a.s.sure you, many many forums for dealing with the empathic arts course controversy. However,a he continued, directing a smile toward Emily, who brightened visibly, aI would like to be out of here in time for dinner, and my reservation is for six, so if we could continue with the agenda?a With a collective sigh, the professors expelled the unused air from their lungs and consented to follow the protocol.
1.
THE HAN ON JAGUARaS BED WAS THOROUGHLY naked, and fully erect.
He crouched on all fours facing the foot of the bed, his voice reverberating in a series of growls, groans, and grunts, a long line of saliva seeping from his mouth down his chin. Jaguar stood in front of him, draped in a gray silk sheet, her hands on her hips, her head thrown back in a howl of laughter.
aWhat a gentleman,a she said, pushing her hand against his face until he fell back. aThe man who never loses control.a He reared up and lunged for her as she took a step back, and the image dissolved with a clatter and a buzz. The viewscreen showed only snow.
aThatas about it,a Jaguar said to Alex Dzarny, her supervisor on prison Planetoid 3, who had come over to her apartment to view the tape of her interaction with this prisoner. She pushed the remote to turn the viewer off, stood, and stretched.
Alex drummed his fingers thoughtfully on his knee.
aWhat happened?a he asked.
aHe started flailing, and I had to initiate restraint procedures.a aThen?a aThen,a she said, athe recorder was accidentally turned off. Like some tea?a Alex raised an eyebrow at her, and she turned her back, walking into the kitchen area without waiting for a reply. He leaned back in his chair. The kitchen was open to the living room, and from this position he could watch her sift herbs from various jars into a kettle, hands moving gracefully through a familiar ritual, the silky cloth of her long loose dress moving like a green river to outline her lean and muscular frame. She had a danceras body, and he enjoyed watching it in motion, though as he thought about it, stillness suited her, too.
The late-afternoon sun slanted into the window and poured pale swaths of orange gold over her, soft and warm, catching at the honey gold in her dark hair. A soothing setting. Beauty before and behind and all around him.
He wished his mood could match the setting, but it didnat. Not even close.
The tape Jaguar had played for him was not what the Governorsa Board had in mind when they requested that she submit filmed records of her work with prisoners. It was, in fact, exactly what they didnat want a record of, and didnat want to know. She knew that, and she couldnat resist pushing their b.u.t.tons, or Alexas b.u.t.tons for that matter. This was the kind of stunt that landed her, repeatedly, on the wrong side of the governors who created policy for the prison Planetoid. Though he had to admit a little honest tape was mild in comparison to some tricks shead pulled in the past.
aJaguar,a he called to her, awhat did you want me to do with this?a aI donat know,a she replied. aUse it for training?a He couldnat help himself. He grinned, and as she walked into the living room carrying a tray with a teapot and two cups on it, he saw that she was grinning, too. She set it down on the low table in front of the couch and poured. He reached over and picked up his cup, watching her as she took her cup, sat down on the couch, and curled her legs under her.
aCertainly,a she said, ait would discourage the fainthearted and the romanticizers from wanting to work here.a aMight encourage the freaks and pervs, though.a aTrue.a She smiled up at him, the gold flecks of her sea eyes catching the colors of the sun and flashing fire. Nothing dangerous, Alex thought. Just a little fun. Though with her, a little fun could be the most dangerous thing in the world.
aWhatall I give Paul?a he asked. Paul Dinardo was governor for Zone 12, and he had almost begged Alex to get something from Jaguar that wouldnat embarra.s.s them all.
aHow about a kissa"from me.a She lifted her hand, touched it with her lips, and breathed it toward him.
He shook his head at her. aIt wouldnat hurt to cooperate a little, now and then, just for a change of pace.a aI am cooperating,a she said. aThey want tape. I have tape for them.a He put his cup down, leaned an elbow on his knee, and rested his chin in it. The problem was, he understood what she was saying when she made this kind of tape. The governors wanted something squeaky-clean to present to the world, and the work of Planetoid prisons just wasnat that. This tape was Jaguaras way of dosing them with truth serum, saying look at what we do herea"what you want us to do, pay us to do, then pretend weare not doing.
The Planetoid system was created after the catastrophe of the Serial Killing Times left the urban centers of the home planet decimated. It became cleara"too late to save the millions that dieda"that incarceration was neither effective nor affordable. In the aftermath of the violence, the burning, the horror, home planet citizens and politicians were both anxious to get criminals out of sight and willing to try a new way of rehabilitating criminals.
Now, the home planet had contained treatment sites for lesser criminals, and the Planetoids for the incorrigiblesa"those who refused treatment, or those whose first crimes were particularly heinous. Based on the premise that crime grew out of fear, and that criminals could be rehabilitated if they faced their fears, Teachers such as Jaguar created and ran programs to make them do just that. These programs took a variety of forms, from dramatic role-playing to what Alex had just seen on Jaguaras tape, and they were often risky to both Teacher and prisoner. If a prisoner successfully completed a Planetoid program, he either stayed on and was subsumed into Planetoid life, working in the service or the prison sector, or he went on to complete rehab on the home planet.
Although their recidivism rate was the lowest in the history of criminal justice systems, it wasnat pretty work, and no amount of PR would make it so. Jaguar liked to remind the governors of that now and then, in case they came up with any idea that they knew how to run the system better than she did.
Alex had been running interference for her since shead been booted off of Planetoid One almost five years ago, so he knew how to deal with the governors in these matters. They were a cakewalk compared with dealing with her.
Especially on days like today, when he wasnat sure how shead take what he was about to say.
aJaguar,a he said, ayouave been asked to take on a special a.s.signment.a She stopped stirring and placed her spoon on the table between them. aTell me about it.a aItas part of an exchange program. Weave got some University people coming up here to learn the system, and weare sending some of our people to the University to do some teaching.a aWhoas bright idea was that?a aGovernors. Good for PR, and it gets some extra funding tossed our way. The University people here will be confined to interviews with exiting prisoners and reading open files, so that shouldnat be a problem. The Planetoid people on campus will teach courses in their areas of expertise.a aAnd whatas my part in it? Confining the researchers?a aActually, youare being placed at the New York State University. Upstate campus. Cultural studies department.a She sat with her cup of tea poised halfway between the table and her mouth.
He continued. aItas a pretty light load. One undergrad survey-of-religions course, one honors seminar, three on-line graduate students. Research time.a aI beg your pardon,a she said. aDid you say a teaching job? As in, a cla.s.sroom? Grade sheets and ordering books and taking attendance?a aI appreciate the irony.a Jaguar had spent some time teaching when she was a graduate student, but shead never intended to work in a cla.s.sroom. Shead gotten a degree to satisfy the requirements for work on the Planetoids. She said it was about the same job description as cla.s.sroom teachinga"long hours, low pay, and hard work with groups of people who would rather be somewhere else.
She sipped at her tea, a Cheshire cat smile visible over the rim of the cup.
aQuite a cover,a she said. aWhoas the prisoner, and whatas the a.s.signment?a This, Alex thought, would be the difficulty. No way to say it except straight. aNo prisoner. Justa"research.a She put down her teacup, sat back, and folded her hands in her lap. Waiting.
Alex paced from the couch back to the window, and toward the couch again. Her apartment was, like her, clean and airy with a touch of the wild. Not too much furniture. Bentwood rocking chair which he knew had belonged to her grandmother. Shelves loaded with disks and books. Then, on the desk next to her telecom, a curved piece of wood intricately carved by busy insects, next to a clay pot filled with dried sage leaves. On the windowsill, a hawkas feather and two stonesa"one round and white, the other thin black obsidian. Fresh mint in pots, and dried mint tied in bunches that hung over the doorway to her bedroom.
He picked up the pack of cigarettes that was on the end table next to the couch and brought it to Jaguar, held the cigarettes out in front of her.
Jaguar stared at them, then took one out, lit it as he sat back down.
aWhereas my blindfold?a she asked, breathing out smoke. aAnd which wall should I stand against?a aItas not that bad,a he said. aI just know how you feel about research jobs.a aI donat feel any way about them,a she said deliberately, abecause I never do them. I work with prisoners. Criminals. Iam a Teacher.a She pulled deeply on her cigarette, flicked ashes into the saucer of her teacup.
aYouall be a teacher there, too,a he said. aAnd the research isnat the usual. Just listen for a minute, okay?a She unsettled herself in her seat, resettled, and showed him the green of her suspicious eyes. He supposed that was listening, of sorts, and he continued.
aThe Boardas been taking heat about psi work on the Planetoids. Apparently home planet opinion is moving to the right, and the mediaas decided we make juicy copy, so thereas been more than the usual run of stories making us out to be freaks. The Board wants Planetoid people visible on the home planet as regular working folks. They want to shift some att.i.tudes.a Jaguar rolled her eyes at him. aThey might have a better chance if they could make up their minds about their own.a The Board was ambivalent about the use of the arts. Theyad overturned the ruling that automatically discounted people with psi capacities from working on the Planetoids, but the codebook advised against use of the empathic arts. No specific punishment existed for using them, but Teachers could reasonably expect an absence of promotion if they were spotted as practicing. They knew use of the arts was extraordinarily helpful in the job, but they wouldnat support it as long as prejudice against it still existed on the home planet.
Like all good bureaucrats, they wanted to sit on any fence they could find, no matter how many pickets it drove up their behinds.
aMaybe a little learning on the home planet would help, too,a he said.
aGoon.a aThe campus youare going to is trying to set up courses in history of the empathic arts. Ultimately theyall add research courses.a Jaguar raised her eyebrows. aAnd wonders never cease. Will they have courses for pract.i.tioners? A sort of voc-tech for incipient empaths?a aNo, Jaguar. History only, for now. Thatas controversial enough.a aNo s.h.i.t. Anybody dead yet?a aNot yet. The University president asked for someone from here who can spot trouble and let her know about it.a aThe president? Is shea"you knowa"one of us?a aNo. She just likes the color of the money sheas getting from certain federal research organizations.a aSuch as?a aThe usual. Military and Think Tank. Thatas part of the local controversy.a aInteresting,a she said. aAm I to express support for the Pentagon while Iam there?a aYouare to discreetly track faculty feelings so the president can forestall any trouble. Theyare still trying to live down bad press over the disappearance of some sorority women a few years ago, and they want no more noise. But for the most part, youall just be teaching your course and relaxing. I donat expect any trouble.a aHow nice for you,a she said. aBut you wonat be there, so it doesnat matter what you expect. What about me? Should I expect trouble?a He folded his hands on his knees and studied them before answering tentatively. aI donat think so,a he said.
He felt the stab of subvocal communication from her.
Not so sure, are you, Alex?
She raised her sea eyes to his, and maintained contact. He held her stare, watching the gold flicker in the green like sun on water. The sharp, clear aroma of mint curled from her to him. He saw the brief image of Jaguar, young and small, crushing dried mint in her hand. Her grandfather bent over her, nodding. Mint. Mint to cover the smell of rotting death, of bloodied bodies lying too long in the streets. Her grandfather, giving her mint, and outside her window, a group of vigilantes clubbed a woman to death because she wore a sage-green dress.
Color of empaths, color of healers. In popular lore, color of Satan. In fact, color of death for those who wore it, as the self-appointed Safety Squads ran the streets looking for anyone they could blame, anything they could do to control the terror of those times.
She gave him all this as easily as she would blow a kiss to Paul Dinardo. Then, just as easily, it was gone and she turned a cool smile at him.
aYouare going to University campus in upstate New York,a he said sharply, anot Manhattan during the Killing Times. This is not a big deal.a aThis is a crock of s.h.i.t,a Jaguar replied just as sharply. aPutting me on a campus in the middle of an antiempath movement to do some discreet spying? Sounds like the Board wants me to get myself discreetly killed.a Alex frowned down into his teacup, swirling the leaves at the bottom. He knew an old woman who would have read the answer there, but he couldnat. Except that he knew Jaguar was right. It wasnat her job. Though they were both empaths, and though they both used the arts, Alex had learned how to do so within the bounds of Planetoid policy. Jaguar recognized only the boundaries necessary to accomplish the job at hand. She would get the job done at any costa"which is why her success rate, at 98 percent, was the highest in the systema"but she was definitely a high-maintenance worker. On her last job shead saved a few million lives, and cost a few million dollars when she decomposed an entire VR site. With her bare hands. Once shead blown up a Lear Shuttle, just to save his life.
And thatas why, Alex thought, sheas going back to school.
Board Governor Paul Dinardo said her doctorate made her most qualified, and what he euphemistically called her special talents made her best suited to spot trouble. Alex said draw trouble was more like it, and Paul said maybe, but wouldnat it be restful to have her off the Planetoid, just for a little while? Maybe shead like the job so much she wouldnat come back.
Thatas how all the governors felt about her, but theyad hand her the hardest a.s.signments because they all knew that if Jaguar couldnat handle it, n.o.body could. Alex didnat know who to be angry with about that. Jaguar, or the conservative administrative body she tangled with. Sometimes, just for fun, head be angry at both simultaneously.
aIf you could exercise a little discretion here,a he said testily, athis sort of thing wouldnat happen so frequently.a aWhat? This is because I object to giving them tape? I will not have a bunch of tight-a.s.sed white men and blue-haired ladies setting the standards for my programs,a she shot back at him.
He picked up his teacup and drank the remainder, setting it down on the coffee table a little too hard. He drew in breath and let it out.
aAll right,a he said. aThe University president requested help in ferreting out faculty involvement in an antiempath movement, and the request seemed to mesh with the Boardas desire to give you something dull and far away. Itall give them a break from your incendiary tendencies, and they can slap your wrists politely at the same time, hoping youall come back properly subdued.a aThe Board,a Jaguar said, eyeing him coldly, ahopes Iall come back as a clean-cut white man who buys the system. Preferably, an Adept.a He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The privilege of wearing a suit and tie, the privilege of a gut-level understanding of inst.i.tutions were his. He was a white man, old enough to slap the backs of other white men, enough silver in the black of his hair that n.o.body commented much on the earring he wore, or the thin braid he could easily hide down the collar of his white shirt. And inst.i.tutions tended to value the services of the Adept more than the kinds of arts Jaguar practiced.
His art was seeing future possibilities and manipulating present events to reach the desired end. Hers wasa" what? Blowing up technology. Singing herself into visions and the wisdom of the spirit world. Getting through the barriers that surrounded a shadowed soul. Seeing the world of the prisoners she worked with so clearly she could breathe on it, then wipe it clean.
Much of what she practiced didnat even have names yet. Chant-shaping, singing, walking in a world whose existence others didnat even acknowledgea"they didnat fit into the dominant paradigm. His psi capacities were known quant.i.ties, and he used them quietly so the Board couldnat object.
And he couldnat do a thing to change either himself, or her, or the Board.
aJaguar, give it up. Youare not going to change the world today.a She unfolded her legs from under her and put her teacup down on the table. She stared at the smoke that rose from the cigarette in her hand, and then tamped it out hard in her teacup.
aA course runs fifteen weeks,a Alex said placatingly. aThe work is easy and interesting, and you get better pay. So why are you angry?a She lifted her chin a notch. aMaybe Iam just tired of being treated like a wayward child. Iam not, you know.a aI know. What else?a She lowered her head and raised it again, a gesture Alex had come to regard with the same caution as head view a bull making the same moves. When she raised her face, she let her green-gold eyes focus fully on his, and it took no empathic touch to read what was written there.
Infamy. Betrayal.
She was angry ata"him?
aWhy?a he asked, knowing he didnat have to say more. Not to her. aWhat did I do?a aItas not what you did, Alex. Itas what you didnat do.a aWhat didnat I do?a aTalk them out of sending me.a She was right. He could have fought it harder. If head insisted, Paul would probably have backed down. Head done that sort of thing for her in the past. Something stayed his hand this time, and she knew it. He wondered if she knew why, and wished that if she did, shead let him know, since he didnat seem to have a clue. His confusion rippled into defensive anger.
aI donat see any reason why you shouldnat go. Christa"most Teachersad jump at the chance.a aSince when am I most Teachers?a aWhat do you suppose I could have done to change their minds?a aHow hard did you try?a He scowled at her, said nothing.
She uncoiled herself and rose, stalked silently to the window, then back to the couch, looking somewhere over his left shoulder. She pa.s.sed him, circled around to his back, and stood behind him. He sat still, feeling the hum of tension between them. Buzzing like lightbulbs in rain, he thought.
Then he felt her fingernail press into the back of his neck. It lingered there a moment before she raked it across his shoulder, delicate and deliberate, like a razor plowing flesh. Had she ever touched him like that before? Not that he knew of.
Her finger came to rest in the joint of his shoulder. He didnat move.