Insomnia

38

"Damn it," cursed Esme, once again curled up behind a dumpster in an alley. "God damn it."

Atticus was being escorted into a car on the street. There were no cuffs on him, but the poor man looked terrified. His mask was on and his hands shook. His neck continued snapping back towards his apartment. Towards safety. At least it seemed like the agent bringing him in was sympathetic.

"Come on, man," he said. "We just need to ask some questions. Maybe show you a few pictures, hm?"

Esme should have seen this coming. Of course they'd want to interview him. What would happen when he refused to talk? When they discovered that he couldn't? Her heart pumped with frantic worry. She wanted to talk to him - make sure everything was alright. But if she called him directly, the agent would notice.

Esme panicked and stretched a Psionic probe towards him. She'd never tried this before, but it was worth a shot. Her mental tendrils latched onto the sensors in his mask and she beamed her thoughts into his ears.

"Atticus?" she thought/whispered. "It's me. Esme."

Esme felt as if her vision had gone double. In her mind's eye she could see the back of a driver's seat. She was... looking through the camera in his mask?
She heard him quiver with disquiet.

"Hey, hey," she beamed/comforted. "I'm talking to you through your mask. You're not crazy. I'm just...Anyway. Are you okay? Have they hurt you?"

She heard a low, incoherent, mumble emerge from his throat. The agent with him turned curiously.

"Just, uh, nod and shake your head. I can see you."

A pause. A tiny imperceptible shake of his head. He was clearly uncomfortable leaving the apartment, but at least he was unharmed.

She took a deep breath.

"Good. I'm glad to hear it. Um. Do you know why they're bringing you in?"

A hesitant nod.

"Yeah. Okay. Well. I guess I should have figured. I.... I wanted you to know that I love you. And it wasn't me who hurt you, or any of the others. I'm not the person they're telling you I am." Lucia's accusations echoed back to her. Once again she wondered if she and the Knightmare were so different.

A swift, immediate nod. Relief coursed through her.

"Oh, thank God. I mean, it's not like I didn't think you'd believe me. It's jus,t I needed to be sure. And. I guess some of it's true. Not the part about hurting people. But, I do have abilities."

She heard a sudden woosh of air. Did... did he just snort at her?

"Was that a laugh? What's so funny?"

He tapped the mask. The sound tinkled through her own ears. She laughed.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm beaming my thoughts into your brain - abilities is a bit of an understatement."

Esme heard the car start up. She looked ahead and watched it roll away from the pavement.

"Hey, I'm not sure if I'll be able to hold the connection with distance. So... be careful, okay? If you need anything, call. They might be able to trace that, but I'll at least know you're in trouble and can come help. Stay safe."

A nod. He tapped the mask again.

She smiled.

"Thanks. Love you. Bye."

Esme sighed shakily as she severed the connection. Until this week, Esme had only ever used Halfsleep to do her emails and watch her favorite shows without paying for a subscription. None of this should have been possible if Lucia had really deactivated the sensors in her mask. They were her sole connection to the Net, Somnus, all of this. The mysteries kept piling up and answers were getting harder and harder to come by.

Esme called Oz again. They weren't tracking his connection and hers was supposed to be deactivated so there was little risk that they'd be able to monitor the call. She frowned when he didn't pick up. That was unlike him. She left a short message before leaving the alley behind. Esme returned to the house just in time for lunch. She stepped through the front door and stretched her arms overhead before cracking her back noisily. That was a long walk.

A hand slipped over her mouth. Cold and metallic.

She barely had the chance to scream before Devoe pulled her in close. Esme tried kicking back at the cyborg agent but the woman wrapped her other hand around her to hold her in place.

"Relax," she hissed. "I'm not here to hurt you."

Esme shrieked again and tried scratching at her eyes.

"Agh," cursed Devoe. "Would you just -" a heated sigh. "Look. Last time was a ... miscommunication. Clearly, we both work for Oz. Let's talk this through."