Read Xenopath - [Bengal Station 02] for Free Online Page A

touch. The last time he’d come awake to the warmth of the rising sun... It’d been two years ago, again in hospital, just after Osborne had tried to kill him and Sukara had saved his life.
     
    Only then did he open his eyes fully and make out Sukara, sitting beside the bed, her outline dark against the sun’s glare. She was gripping his hand.
     
    “Su,” he whispered.
     
    “How do you feel?”
     
    “Great. Tired.” He’d had the operation, then? To say he’d undergone intrusive brain surgery, he felt well. Not even a headache. He reached up, felt around the base of his skull. He could feel the bulge of the implant beneath his skin.
     
    He was implanted. He was telepathic again. But the world was mind-silent.
     
    Sukara leaned forward and kissed him.
     
    He lost consciousness and slept.
     
    The next time he woke, a doctor or technician was tinkering with his handset, presumably reprogramming it in order to control the function of his occipital implant.
     
    He closed his eyes and dozed.
     
    Then Kapinsky was in the room with him. This time, the tiredness had gone; he felt bright, alert. He sat up.
     
    “How long—?”
     
    “You had the cut yesterday,” Kapinsky said. “Everything went well. I had techs check the implant—it’s doing fine. Your handset’s been boosted.” She laid a pin in a case on his bedside table. “This’ll fill you in on your handset’s new functions.”
     
    He raised a hand to his head and felt stubble, then recalled that he’d been shaved before the cut.
     
    Kapinsky was standing beside the window, looking out over a sloping greensward. She turned and said, “You’re going home today. I’ll be in contact in the morning, fill you in on the cases we’ll be working on.”
     
    He nodded. “Great.”
     
    She smiled. “It’s good to have you on board, Jeff.”
     
    “Thanks.” He tried to work out how he felt about the new life that awaited him. He concentrated on how Su’s life would be changed for the better, and tried to disregard the thought of mind-reading again.
     
    Later that afternoon, Su waddled in, holding her bump and smiling. He was up and dressed and ready to leave.
     
    “Guess what, Jeff?” Her eyes were dancing with the delight of good news.
     
    “Surprise me.”
     
    “I’ve been doing some apartment hunting while you’ve been recovering. I’ve been given tours of some real palaces. You wouldn’t believe it.”
     
    “Found anything?” He packed his bag, watching her. She was dressed in baggy maternity trousers and one of his old shirts.
     
    She beamed. “Two places lined up. Both west side, with sea views. One on Level Three, in Song Mah. Four rooms, five kay a month.”
     
    “Expensive.” He whistled. “But exclusive.”
     
    “The other’s on Level Two, Chittapuram.”
     
    “Which do you like better?”
     
    She rocked her head, lips pursed. “Maybe the Level Two. It’s cheaper, just four kay a month. Three big rooms like you wouldn’t believe. I mean, the kitchen alone is bigger than our old place.”
     
    “Lead the way,” he said.
     
    They left the hospital and dropped to Level Two, then took a short walk through wide, airy corridors towards Chittapuram. Sukara’s delightful excitement at their relocation dispelled his apprehension. She gripped his hand and chattered like a child.
     
    Five minutes later they reached the apartment.
     
    She proudly swiped the lock and swung open the door, almost dragging him inside. “Well, what do you think, Jeff?”
     
    The first thing that struck him was the cascade of sunlight that slanted in through the west-facing wall-to-ceiling viewscreen. He gazed around the lounge, open-mouthed. It was vast, perhaps ten metres long by five, plush cream carpet, sunken sofas, a holo-unit in the corner. The sheer view over the sea increased the apparent area of the room to agoraphobic-inducing proportions.
     
    She took his hand and tugged him into a bedroom perhaps half the size, and