Excerpt Day: Somatesthesia by Ann Somerville
Somatesthesia by Ann Somerville
Release Date: April 14, 2009
Publisher: Lulu Press
Publisher Link: http://www.lulu.com/content/multimedia/somatesthesia/6757851
Blurb: somatesthesia: 1.the perception of tactual or proprioceptive or gut sensations. 2.the faculty of bodily perception. 2042, post-peak oil America. The FBI and NSA have been merged into a single entity - the Federal Justice Agency - with wide-ranging investigative powers across state borders. Within it, a small core of elite agents, Special Crime Investigators, are brought in on the most difficult, dangerous cases to offer their expertise and abilities. New SCI Devlin Grace meets his partner, enhanced agent Connor Hutchens, for the first time. Connor is odd and damaged - but with the ability to hear, taste, feel, see and smell well beyond the senses of ordinary people. Together they must solve a dangerous, perplexing case before more children are killed or mutilated - and resist their growing attraction to each other, which could put their careers and their safety in great peril.
Excerpt:
The little bar on the edge of the campus practically acted as an Agency staff room, and the trainees added to a noisy, relaxed crush of suited agents. The only room was at the bar, which suited them fine, though as drinks were collected, the newly introduced partners drifted off to chat and grab tables as they came free. Tom Pacey, Chandra and Yvette sat with their partners at the bar. Devlin had ended up as the only newbit on his own. Pacey wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Connor’s abrupt departure, and though most of the crowd were too polite to comment, he wasn’t. As Devlin paid for his beer, Pacey stuck the knife in a little.
“Still taking it out on everyone, isn’t he?”
“Agent Pacey, could you knock it off? I’m trying to get to know the guy and you’re not helping.”
“Yeah, Tom, you’ve been laying it on a little heavy.” Kevin Wilton swung onto the chair on the other side of Devlin. “I think Connor was unwell, actually.”
“Super powers telling you that, partner?”
“No, simple deductive reasoning. Connor was frowning most of the afternoon, and kept pulling at his earlobe as if his ear hurt. Didn’t you pay any attention? That mad scientist father of his upgraded his hearing. I bet he could hear every electronic device, every gear turning, every vibration in the building.”
Devlin worked it out. “Oh crap. We had him using auditory all afternoon.”
Kevin saluted him with his fruit juice. “They said you were smart, Agent Grace.”
Pacey looked a little ashamed of himself. “Doesn’t explain the tantrum this morning.”
“Come off it, Tom. You know he hates being treated like a trick pony. It’s why you did it. At some point, you got to stop blaming him for Becca. It wasn’t Connor’s fault any more than hers.”
Devlin held up his hand. “Guys, I don’t want to talk behind his back.”
“It’s no secret, Devlin,” Tom said, no longer smirking. “Becca had a breakdown brought on by stress and overwork, and Connor pushed her into it.”
“No, he didn’t,” Kevin insisted. “He didn’t know. You didn’t know.”
“I knew she was struggling. I tried to tell him, but he brushed me off, kept the pressure up on that last case until she cracked.”
Kevin shook his head with a sigh. “Not how I saw it go down. Devlin, ask him about it. Then ask around.”
“Can I ask her?”
Tom took a long swallow of his beer before wiping his mouth. “Nope. We all have to keep away from her. She can’t handle any contact or reminders about the job. Especially anything to do with Connor Hutchens. Prick.”
“That’s enough, Pacey.”
Pacey raised his eyebrows at Devlin’s snapped command. Yvette, chatting to her partner and to Chandra with hers, turned in surprise. Devlin spared her a quick apologetic look before turning back to Pacey. “I told you. I don’t want to talk about him behind his back. And definitely not badmouth him.”
“Protective kind of early in the game, aren’t you? Let me give you a word of advice, Agent Grace. He won’t thank you for it. He doesn’t know how. He’s a machine, and he makes no allowances for anyone. You’ll give and give and expect support in return when things get tough, and he’ll let you down, every time. He’s a fine agent, and a shit of a human being. If you can even call him that.”
Devlin slid off his stool. “Okay, that’s it. I’m not sitting here doing this. I’ll see you at the course tomorrow.”
Kevin put his hand on his arm. “Devlin, wait!“
“No, let him go. He’ll figure it out soon enough.” Tom picked up his glass and turned away, as if Devlin no longer figured in his universe.
Devlin walked out, fuming at Tom Pacey, himself, even Connor. What a great start to his new job. Couldn’t Connor have just said he was sick? If he even was, and Pacey wasn’t right about him sulking.
He let out a growl of aggravation, and stared up at the darkening sky. He had to make this work. He didn’t want to go back to Child Exploitation, though he missed the team there. He wanted this job, wanted this challenge. Why had he ended up with the most buttoned-down, buttoned-up enhanced agent in the whole Agency?
He walked back to the hotel, grabbed a sandwich from the deserted cafeteria, and headed to his room to think. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, and if he couldn’t find a way to work with Connor and people like Tom Pacey, he’d blow this. Damn it, he had a Masters in Criminal Psychology. He should be able to work it out.
He needed data. He had the bare bones about Connor, some highly prejudicial opinions, a little gossip. Not enough. Sure, he could ask Connor, and he would, but the man definitely needed a subtle approach.
“Display screen, access Infoweb.”
The room’s small media screen lit up. “Search person ‘Tomizawa Toshiyuki’, filter ‘scientist or inventor’”. No point looking up Connor, all agents’ personal information was classified.
The screen filled with results, and Devlin started reading as he ate. The first descriptor that came to mind was ‘evil genius’. He settled quite quickly on ‘bastard’, and wondered exactly how Tomizawa had gotten away with adopting six disabled orphans and using them as lab rats with no one from Child Exploitation interfering. Connor was the first adoptee, he guessed. No personal details as to his life before Tomizawa adopted him, but even if he’d come from an extremely deprived background, living as an experimental model couldn’t have been much better. No mention of Tomizawa having a wife, but one article said his research assistant at the time acted as a mother figure to his ‘sons’.
“Screen close,” Devlin snapped, anger rising within him. People like Tomizawa made him want to kick them in the nuts. He hated people who thought parenting was an optional extra when you had kids. People like his own fucking father.
Maybe Tomizawa was a kindly, loving man, but somehow Devlin doubted it. There had been no trace of parental pride in any interview he’d read, or interest in the children as children. Tomizawa spoke only of his results, and his successes. The children were important only in relation to those.
So Connor had a more than usually fucked up childhood, most likely with a unhealthy side order of lack of affection and nurturing. The real surprise wasn’t that Connor was strange, but that he wasn’t stranger. If he suffered from an attachment disorder, he hid it pretty well. The Agency would never have allowed him to work for them in the field if he had that degree of damage.
So how much of his past did nitwits like Tom Pacey know about, and had this ‘Becca’ been yet another mother figure in a long line of them? Connor had said as much. Losing her must have hit him hard.
Devlin felt sorry for the guy. On the other hand, Devlin had more than enough people to tend to personally, and Connor wasn’t family, or even a friend. If Devlin was going to walk, now would be the time, when Connor could write it off as Devlin’s failure, not his own.
But fuck it, he wanted to be an SCI, and he wanted to work with an enhanced agent. He’d burnt out on the child predator thing, and he’d seen colleagues who’d ignored the warning signals, go off the rails, sinking their careers. He wouldn’t end up like that. Like Connor’s last partner, in fact.
He’d give it until the end of the week. Menezes had already told him that any of the new intake could terminate their appointment without prejudice if, after completing the course, they felt they weren’t suitable for the position. If Devlin hadn’t bonded with Connor by then, won his trust and learned his important triggers, then he’d walk. But he’d give it his best shot before then.
Resolution made, he finished off his food and decided he should call his mom. Then he’d better study up for the next day’s activities, since he’d marred his record by running out on the group supper. He could always go back and eat with them, but the thing with Pacey was still a little raw. Better to let them both cool down. Last thing he needed was an all out brawl with an experienced SCI on his first day.
Connor enjoyed his job, so the feeling of dread as he dragged himself to the second day of the induction was as unusual as it was unwelcome. His headache had gone, and he’d have to make his excuses to Angelina regarding any other auditory exercises, but that would be no problem. The difficulty was facing his partner and the rest of the group. He hated being the freak. He hated that he couldn’t seem to stop acting like one.
He turned up early, hoping to see Angelina. Instead he found Devlin, dressed, like him, in exercise gear, waiting in the reception area, apparently waiting for him. The urge to run away was surprisingly strong, but even a freak like him knew that would be childish. He greeted the man politely. “Good morning, Devlin.”
“Hi, Connor. How’s your headache?”
“My!? How did you know?”
“Kevin Wilton said that was probably the problem. Was it?”
Connor nodded, a little embarrassed the others had talked about him, even though he knew they would. “The upgrade to my hearing is too sensitive for my comfort.”
“That’s no good. Don’t they test that kind of thing?”
“Yes. I mean...that’s what I’m doing now. Testing.”
Devlin winced. “I meant before you were put in a situation where it’s going to make you sick. Want to grab some tea before we start?”
“I’ve just!“ He could hear Becca chiding him about making time to be sociable. “Yes. Thank you.”
Devlin smiled. “Great. Thought we could have a chat, you know, away from....”
Connor waited for him to finish, but he didn’t. Instead he coughed. “Anyway. Shall we?”
The building’s canteen had only just opened but was already busy with agents and support staff eating a hasty breakfast. Devlin purchased tea and took their mugs over to a corner table, where they would have a modicum of privacy, at least from non-enhanced agents. “Food in the hotel’s pretty good, don’t you think?”
Connor roused himself. “Er, yes. They adhere to a strict standard, as does this canteen. Didn’t your old workplace?”
“Yeah, but there’s a difference between healthy and tasty. So you’re feeling okay now?”
“Yes. I apologize for rushing off.”
“Forget it. I should have picked up on it. Tough day for you, being on display all that time.”
“Yes.”
“I’d hate it. I’ve given talks plenty of times, but the attention’s on my words, not me. Guess you’ve had a lot of it.”
“Yes.”
Devlin smiled again. “I called my mom last night, and she was all ‘oh that poor boy’ and telling me off for not giving you a pill, and wondering how you manage seeing the world that close all the time.”
“It’s not all the time. Right now, my senses are much the same as yours. At least, I think they are.” Devlin cocked his head in confusion, and Connor tried to explain. “My sight’s artificial. So while you and I both look at this mug and know it to be ‘yellow’ and ‘smooth’, I have no way of knowing if those words have the same meaning for you as for me.”
“Like those translators they use at the World Forum, right? Everyone’s hearing the speech in their own language, but they don’t know how it sounds to the others.”
“Yes. An apt analogy.”
“Apt. I like that, being apt.” Devlin grinned, and Connor smiled back. The man’s moods were infectious. “So how do I smell today?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You said you registered my smell yesterday. Is it the same?”
Connor worked his jaw and turned the olfactory implant on. It took him a few seconds to sift through the overwhelming odors of the canteen and so many other people, before he picked Devlin out. “More or less. You’re wearing a perfumed product today.” He ran through the datacore. “Fortuna moisturizer, product code three seven!“
Devlin held up his hand. “I get it. Wow. Remind me to shower if I have sex before I come to work.”
Connor flushed. “Wouldn’t make any difference,” he muttered.
Devlin blinked. “Fuck. Pacey was right about us having to be closer than a married couple. Must be hard to keep secrets around you.”
Connor tilted his chin. “I never pry.”
“Never said you did. It’s not like you can stop it. Connor, I knew what I was getting into. I’m just trying to get a handle on you, how you think. Like I said, I’ll ask you, no one else.”
“You talked about me last night. To your mother, and to Kevin.”
“With Kevin and Tom, it was more being talked at. And Mom, sure. I share important things with her. Don’t you?”
“I don’t have a mother. There’s just my father. Otosan.”
“That’s ‘Dad’ in Japanese, right? He’s not married?”
“Never has been.” He couldn’t imagine Otosan with a wife.
“Pacey said you had siblings?”
“That’s right. Five adopted brothers. We all work for the Agency or the military. My brother Andrew works with my father.”
“You fond of them?”
“Of course. They’re my brothers.”
“No offence, but it doesn’t always follow.”
“It does in my case. Er...your family?” If Devlin had been a suspect or a witness, this would be an easier conversation. He sensed Devlin wanted to talk about such matters, but there seemed little purpose, and Connor never could talk easily without one.
“Four kids and my mom. Two boys, two girls. I’m the oldest.” His voice softened. Clearly these were people close to his heart.
“And your father?”
“I don’t have a father.” No affection at all in his tone now. Was he lying, or had Otosan been mistaken?
“Ah.”
Devlin glared at his mug of tea, but then his shoulders slumped. “That’s not strictly true. My father’s in prison. For life. For murder.” He looked up and looked Connor in the eye. “And I’m damn glad of it.”
Connor didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.
“Shocked you, right?”
“No.”
“Embarrassed you?”
“No. I...don’t.... What do you want me to say?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing to say.” Devlin swallowed the last of his tea, then glanced at the wall clock. “We should go.”
“Yes. Um.”
Devlin paused as he went to stand. “What?”
“I’m sorry you’re glad about your father.”
Devlin laughed but it had a hollow sound. “Me too, pal. Don’t worry about it.”
Connor nodded, but again he had a sense of failure. Becca would have known exactly how to respond. Tom Pacey would. He needed a human-to-Connor translator. Trouble was, his father was the only one who could ever invent such a thing, and the only one who would never see a need for it.
Devlin clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t stress about it. That’s not why I came in here. You okay? Looking forward to it today?”
“No. Uh....”
“Don’t need to lie. I can tell by your face. You’ll be fine. We both will be. You’re good, Connor. It’s not just the implants. You must be hell on wheels in the field.”
“I must? Is that good?”
“Yeah, it’s good.”
“Oh. Then you must be hell too.”
Devlin chuckled. “You know, that’s what my sisters say. Come on.”