The Fifth Healer

78.

I say, "Flying too close to the sun is a metaphor for using chronopathy."

Yes.

"On yourself."

Yes.

"You committed narcisside."

Yes.

"Everyone in here did."

Yes.

"This is the punishment."

Yes.

Ainsley pulls me aside.

"Why didn't Dr. Khan tell us this is the punishment for narcisside?" she whispers. "This seems like a pretty strong deterrent."

"Telling a person exactly what to do to live forever?" I say. "For some people, that would be an instruction manual for getting the thing they most want."

She sighs. "Yeah, I guess the threat of losing your powers and being ostracized is more effective than the full truth."

"Dr. Khan might not know the full truth, either."

Ainsley nods. "And remember how she said cursed with exile? The exile isn't the curse. The curse is with, meaning in addition to the exile."

We turn back to Icarus.

"I don't understand, who's been punishing you like this for thousands of years?" says Ainsley.

He doesn't blink. Not a yes or no question.

"It's not a who," I say. "It's baked in. The curse is an automatic side effect of putting your own sample in the tower at noon and healing yourself. Or another chronopath."

Yes.

"So you're stuck like this," says Ainsley, slowly, the horror of it sinking in. "You age, and you can theoretically die, but not of natural causes. You're ammortal."

Yes.

"I assume it's impossible to do it yourself," I say. "Otherwise, you would have when you started to decline."

Yes.

I look at this pathetic shell of a man, a consciousness eternally imprisoned in a comatose body. Would the greatest kindness be to put him out of his suffering? Isn't that what Chronopaths are meant to do-end suffering?

But even if I could bring myself to try, I'm not sure I'd succeed.

"With your perpetual healing, it's probably extremely difficult for someone else to kill you, too," I say.

Yes.

"Vampire rules," Ainsley whispers to me, running a finger across her throat.

"What are those?" I whisper back.

"Nevermind. It's a movie thing."

"Well, Icarus," I say, "that's quite a punishment, Icarus."

Yes.

We are quiet for a while.

"Did it at least work?" asks Ainsley. "Were you able to heal yourself?"

Yes.

Ainsley blinks herself a few times and looks away. She tucks her chin and pulls her flannel shirt up over her nose, breathing deeply. I just wait, figuring she needs her space. Eventually she returns to reality.

Ainsley asks, "Was it worth it, Icarus?"

There's a slight pause before he blinks twice.

No.

He blinks twice again, slowly.

No.

"Yeah..." she says, her body deflating before me like an overstretched, punctured balloon. "Doesn't look like it would be."

She looks at me, eyes glistening. I give her hand a quick squeeze. I'm with you. She nods for the conversation to continue.

"Who else knows about this?" I ask Icarus, then quickly rephrase to a yes or no question. "Does the chronopathic council know the Gnomons have put you in here?"

He doesn't blink.

Ainsley looks up and then back. She says urgently, "Icarus, they told us the punishment for committing narcisside is being cursed with exile. I thought that meant exile was the curse. But now I'm wondering if with means, like, the exile is in addition to the curse."

Yes.

"So you are exiled to this floor..."

Yes.

"But the curse itself is something else. "

Yes.

"The curse is ammortality. Being trapped in your body forever."

Yes.

As if on cue, a nearby door opens, bright afternoon sunlight pouring around a silhouetted Gnomon in the doorway. He points at us. "Hey!" he yells. "There they are!"

Ainsley and I whip around and take off running back the way we came. They're sprinting toward us and would catch us, except that it's only a few bounds into the open door leading to the secret staircase. I pull it shut and latch it from the staircase side, locking them out. That will slow them down, forcing them to return to the way they came, through the main door. Since the escaladder doesn't even let off on this floor, they'll have to use some other secondary staircase.

Ainsley's already a turn or two above me on the steps. I'm bounding up the tight spiral as much with my hands and arms as my legs, so tight is the circle and so steep the steps. I'm too out of breath to ask where we are headed. After all, we obviously can't escape via the main entrance. The main floor always has Gnomons posted there. But Ainsley breezes past the seventh floor, continuing to climb. I follow her to the top, out of the open hatch onto the white roof.

"What are we doing up here?" I ask.

"Well, we can't go through there, can we?" she asks.

I run to the edge and lean over, spotting the balconies crawling with Gnomons like ants in an ant farm. Most are running, many are pouring off the escaladder on the tenth floor, just below us.

"Yeah, guess not," I say.

"Where to?"

"I spotted something when we were atop the acropolis," she says. "This way, come on." She runs toward the backside of the building, reaches the edge, and leaps off.