Page 17 of Guiding Desire
Senlas worked his way through the food Orrey had ignored and opened his messages inbox on his screen.
Congratulations on imprinting, Guardian Senlas Yaran,the Operational-AI began, using his middle name like it always did.You are the fourth A-classer or higher in your maternal line to imprint, the first on your paternal side. We are looking forward to seeing your powers increase while your limitations decrease. The likelihood of you being consulted for policy changes and adjustments such as they apply to Guardians and Conduits is much increased as well. We are hoping you and your Conduit will make life better for everyone.
This was followed by a lengthy review of the other imprinted A- and S-classers Senlas was related to, with heavy focus on his maternal grandmother, who was a frightfully strong A-class telepath with a specialty for mind control. Senlas had met her a few times when he’d been younger, but she lived across the continent and was still obsessed with work, even at over eighty years old, much like Senlas’s mother and father.
Not that the AI cared about his unimprinted parents. Senlas only glanced at most of the achievements listed in the message.
The rest of the message was more interesting.
Your Conduit’s medical records have been linked to your own. You can access them at any time with your personal login. We are happy to find your Conduit healthy and without anything indicating that his channeling might lead to adverse physical outcomes on his end, but as with any untrained Conduit, we advise for a prolonged period of adjustment to channeling.
No shit,Senlas thought.
The AI’s message continued.Your Conduit suffered from anxiety attacks during the final three years of schooling, and we advise you to regularly check in with him. Questions like “How are you feeling today?” or “Is there anything that you need as a Conduit?” can make him feel seen and rewarded at the same time.
Senlas wondered whether Col had told the AI to give him pointers, or whether the AI had reviewed his performance data. He wouldn’t be surprised if both.
The rest of the message went into more detail about all the things he was supposed to take care of for Orrey as his Guardian, like financial issues and regular opportunities for recreational periods.
“Cool. Guess you simply couldn’t be bothered to make sure he didn’t get sunstroke, but you can tell me how many hours of sleep a night is the minimum recommended.”
Senlas was about to close the message when he saw the AI’s advice for how to make it easier for Orrey to let go of his protector goals and embrace being a Conduit instead.
Considering your team’s mission success rate and his training, allowing him to accompany you on missions will increase the chances of him embracing his new purpose.
That was a head scratcher. The Op-AI didn’t usually recommend Conduits leave city boundaries unless it was to move from one city to another, whether Conduits followed that advice or not. At the same time, Senlas didn’t love the idea. There was a not insignificant part of his baser nature that really just wanted to take Orrey and put him in a safe, soft place. He wasn’t going to give in to that baser nature, yet taking his Conduit into a situation that had a greater than zero probability of turning dangerous struck his body like a physical pain, a burn mark, a deep bruise.
He chose to wrap up that pain and ignore it for the time being. Before he could even remotely think of bringing something like going beyond the walls up to Orrey, he’d have to get to know him first.
6
ORREY
Tobeginwith,everythingwas normal.
Covenant day was so damn long,Orrey thought. He remembered watching the fireworks with his mom, his dad and second mom also there at his mom’s house.
Orrey held on to that, even when he slowly, slowly realized it wasn’t real, just the kind of dream memory that feels and tastes and makes you think it’s real.
Beyond the pleasant dream built from fractured memories, reality itself was a lure, but the kind that ended with getting caught in a trap. Orrey felt it, the cold foreboding of it, and he didn’t want to let go of the fireworks mirrored in her second-best wine glasses his mom had broken out, the really good store-bought wine his dad had forcefully brought into the house, the giggles of his second mother.
In the end, as much as Orrey wanted it to be otherwise, he couldn’t fight his full bladder any longer and had to let go of the dream. He stirred under the soft covers, the fresh, summery scent of the bed linen filling his nostrils.
He was still in pain when he woke, the pounding in his head more solid now than it had been, his neck just between an itch and a hurt, his muscles sore.
“So this really happened,” he said to the darkness, coughed when his voice came out a croak.
The room adjusted, brightening slightly in such a way that it didn’t bother his eyes, which felt sort of swollen and crusty.
Orrey had examined the room earlier before he’d dropped into bed in just his undershirt, and he was glad he didn’t have to go looking for a bathroom now. The ensuite was across from the bed, and Orrey made it there, relieving the pressure on his bladder.
After washing his hands, he washed his face with cold water. It felt good, but while it dispelled some of the unpleasant feeling around his eyes and mouth, especially after he drank a few handfuls of cold water from the tap, it did little to banish the reality of his present circumstances.
He was not at home. He was in a fancy house, not a hotel, and unless he’d very much hallucinated, there was every chance that a Guardian waited on the other side of the guest room door, that said Guardian was his…no. Orrey couldn’t think it. His life couldn’t just change like that. Who he was couldn’t just change so drastically from one moment to another.
He made it back to bed, remembered he had left his private screen in his pants pocket, stumbled back to the upholstered stool on which he’d dropped his clothes with little precision. The tote bag the Guardian had all but tossed at him was also there. Orrey blushed and ignored it.
His screen in hand, he dropped back into bed. The screen flickered to life with a touch, bright enough to make Orrey wince. He had several messages, and exactly none lifted his mood.
