Healer

14

     "Murphy and Stiller?" Pzinski rubbed at his chin before shaking his head. "Whoever they are, they must be pretty low-level because I've never heard of any guards with those names." He scowled. "They're the ones who gave you up? Those fuckers! They have no idea how bad it will get for them once the Foundation finds out."

     "Could have been worse," Reynolds pointed out. "At least it was guards and not a Hunter. Could you imagine how much information this rich glitterati could have gotten from a Grey Coat Hunter?"

     Pzinski shuddered. "That would have been worse, yes." His eyes moved around the room. "Camera in the upper corners on the right and left," he said under his voice, rubbing at the skin above his lip to hide his lip movements.

     Reynolds nodded. He'd also seen the camera and knew they were being watched. There were likely microphones hidden somewhere in the room as well. That certainly made things much harder. Lucky for him, it didn't interfere much with his plan.

     Food was delivered, and two trays passed in through a slot in the door. The recruits hesitated. "Just eat it," Reynolds decided with a sigh. "If it's drugged, it won't be any different than starving us, and they want me healthy. Since there's no way to tell which of us would take which tray, it's likely safe."

     Pzinski nodded and dug in. The food was delicious despite their circumstances. "So, this guy tell you what he wants?"

     "He's got a daughter he wants me to heal," Reynolds explained.

     "Figured it was something like that. I mean, why else take you, right? It sucks that he knows exactly what you can do, though. Makes things a lot more complicated." He paused. "You told me how we got here, confirmed what I already suspected. Now, how about you tell me why I'm still alive and locked in here with you?"

     "I made a deal," Reynolds admitted. "You stay with me, and I heal whoever he wants me to."

     Pzinski's head snapped up. "I should kick the ever-loving shit out of you! Dammit, Reynolds, we do not cooperate with these bastards, not ever! You got way better grades than I did on our Foundation protocols tests. You know this!"

     "Yes," Reynolds said, glaring back. "I know what we're supposed to do. But I couldn't let them kill you, could I?"

     "Yes, you could! You should have..."

     "Pzinski!" Reynolds looked hard at his companion. "You remember what Benji told us, right? About how, sometimes, the way out is through? You know what Truman was to Benji, don't you?"

     What he was saying, Reynolds knew, made very little sense. That was evident in the confusion on Pzinski's face. He shook his head. "But all Truman was to Benji was..."

     "Exactly. Take a look at what Truman was to Benji, would you?"

     Pzinski glanced down at Reynolds's tray, where the healer had been playing with his lunch, out of sight of the cameras. Their meal had been roast beef and mashed potatoes smothered in gravy. Reynolds had been playing idly in the gravy and potatoes as they'd talked. Now, his lunch depicted a crudely drawn but recognizable image of a dog-like figure charging through an open door. Pzinski stared for a moment before quickly looking back at his own lunch. "Yeah, I see what you mean. It's right there in what Truman was to Benji, isn't it?"

     "That it is." Reynolds quickly scooped up a spoonful of food, obliterating the image. "And to think, before this, my biggest concern was that Conrad would humiliate me again during sword practice! Did you see that huge sword he's carrying? I heard someone say he's trying to compensate for something. It took me a while before I realized what they meant."