Shattered Lives Read online

  So here she sat, waiting for Tyson. Although Owen’s behaviour disturbed her, it wasn’t a Chosen Violation or a violation of the Law. And she’d only heard Hubert’s side of the story. Hubert may not have been seeing Owen for a sexual problem, but she may have said something that triggered his questions. Still, when Lesley reported her findings to Laura, she’d recommend that they refer the case to a military counsellor. He or she could decide whether to report Owen to the organization that licensed and oversaw counsellors.

  A woman hovered in the doorway. Lesley rose. “Janet Tyson?” Tyson nodded, her eyes avoiding Lesley’s. “Come in and sit down, please.”

  As Lesley shut the door and returned to her seat, Tyson crossed her legs, then uncrossed them and smoothed her long skirt. She cleared her throat.

  “I’m Lieutenant Commander Thompson. I’d like to ask you a few questions about your former counsellor.” Tyson’s head bobbed. “You were seeing Counsellor Owen, but you recently switched to Counsellor Abrams, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you switch?”

  Tyson stared at Lesley and clenched her hands in her lap. “Did I do something wrong by switching? Was I supposed to inform someone? I didn’t know. Was it a recent amendment?”

  “No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I keep up with all the amendments.”

  “I’m sure you do. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’d like to know why you switched counsellors, that’s all.”

  “Oh.” Tyson relaxed slightly. “Well, I don’t know. I, um . . . well, it’s going to sound silly. I should have handled it better.”

  “Handled what better?” Lesley asked, keeping her voice even.

  Tyson unfolded her hands and started to pick lint off her skirt. “I went to see him because I wasn’t feeling that great about myself. My boyfriend had dumped me, I’d auditioned for a part in the festival play but didn’t get it, the Animal Commission turned down my request for a dog because of my work hours . . .” She sighed. “Nothing was going my way. I needed to talk to someone. I don’t know . . .”

  “So you went to see Counsellor Owen,” Lesley prompted.

  “Yes, and he seemed genuinely interested. He was very kind. He listened to me, helped me see a few things about myself and suggested how to work on them.” She met Lesley’s eyes. “I really trusted him, felt as if I could tell him anything. But then . . .”

  “What happened?”

  “I’d become involved with someone new. We had an argument and said things we probably shouldn’t have. I was devastated, in tears. I beeped Counsellor Owen to see if he could fit me in and then went to see him.” She placed her hand against her chest and shook her head. “I felt as if all the progress I’d made had been wiped out.”

  “Did Counsellor Owen help?” Lesley didn’t want to rush Tyson, but hoped she’d get to the point.

  “Well, he could see my self-esteem was crushed.” Tyson rolled her eyes. “Again. I felt terrible. He told me he could make me feel better using touch therapy.”

  “Touch therapy?” Lesley said, masking her shock.

  Tyson nodded. “I asked him what it was, and he said that the human touch can have a powerful transformational effect. Touch therapy involves touching certain points on the body, called conductors. Touching them infuses the body with positive energy and raises self-esteem.”

  Lesley couldn’t believe what she was hearing. If Tyson’s account was accurate . . . A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. “And did he perform this, uh, touch therapy?”

  “No,” Tyson said, shaking her head. “He told me to lie down on the couch, but I balked, said I didn’t have time and had to leave right away. I rushed out of his office without so much as a good-bye.”

  “Why didn’t you contact us?”

  Tyson’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “You weren’t alarmed that a Joined Chosen wanted to touch you?”

  “Physicians touch me,” Tyson replied.

  “Physicians are covered under CT48.”

  “So are counsellors.”

  “Not for physical contact.” And touch therapy definitely wasn’t on the list of exemptions listed in the article. CT48 did have a discretionary aspect to it, but Lesley was certain that “touch therapy” wouldn’t pass scrutiny. However, she still couldn’t accept that Owen may have committed a Chosen Violation. Again, she was only getting one side of the story. Tyson could be exaggerating what had happened, or perhaps she’d misinterpreted; she struck Lesley as being overly sensitive and excitable. “If you weren’t alarmed, why did you run out of the office?”

  “Because I felt horrible,” Tyson said, looking at her as if she were a moron. “The last thing I wanted was someone touching me. And then afterward I felt so stupid about the way I’d reacted. I should have just explained why I ran out, but I was so embarrassed, I couldn’t face him. So I decided to see Abrams. A friend recommended her.”

  “Did Owen contact you after your last session with him?”

  “No.”

  The knot in Lesley’s stomach tightened. If Owen’s motives had been innocent—if this touch therapy was actually legitimate and she just wasn’t aware of it—surely he’d have wanted to know why Tyson had run out and not returned. Any decent counsellor would have followed up.

  She’d heard enough. “Thank you,” she said, standing to indicate the interview was over. “That’s all for now, but we may need to speak to you again.” Laura would probably want to bring Tyson in for a chat. Did Tyson realize how close she’d come to an execution site? What a stupid woman! If she hadn’t left Owen’s office, had agreed to . . . Lesley couldn’t bear to think of it. She still clung to the hope that Tyson had spun her an exaggerated yarn.

  “So . . . we’re done?” Tyson asked.

  “Yes, we’re done.”

  Tyson beamed and rose from the chair. “Thank you, er, Lieutenant Commander. Thank you.”

  Lesley nodded to her. “Good day.”

  Back in her aviacraft, Lesley sat in the pilot’s seat, staring out the window. If Tyson’s version of events was accurate, they could be looking at an actual Chosen Violation. She struggled to comprehend it—there hadn’t been a Chosen Violation since the Adams Incident thirteen years ago. At least the current situation was nowhere near as bad as that. Her appreciation deepened for how the Interior investigators assigned to the Adams case must have felt. How awful it would have been as they uncovered the horrors the Adamses had committed, discovering yet another violation each time they peeled away a layer of the sordid mess! Both Chosens involved, in addition to two Solitaries—madness. Hearing the name “Adams” always sent a small shock through her. Thinking about them wasn’t pleasant, either. Monsters!

  She pushed them from her mind and refocused on the investigation. Before she beeped Laura to sound the alarm, she’d better be sure. Was touch therapy legitimate? A military counsellor would know. She typed Lieutenant Kay Woods’ comm code into the craft’s comm panel.

  “Woods,” the counsellor answered. “How are you, Lesley?”

  “I’m all right. I have a question for you.”

  “Sure.”

  “Have you heard of touch therapy?”

  “Touch therapy?”

  “Yes. A technique counsellors use. Something to do with touching conductor points on the body to raise self-esteem.”

  Kay laughed. “Is this a joke?”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Well, I can tell you that nothing we do involves touching the client. Ever. Where did you hear about it?”

  “It came up during an investigation.”

  “Oh.” Then, “Oh. Argamon.”

  “Keep this to yourself, okay?”

  “I will,” Woods assured her.

  “Thank you. Thompson out.” She terminated the connection, signed into Interior’s network, and punched in the code that identified her as a member of the Chosen Tradition investigative group. Now she could access counselling r
ecords. Counsellors had to keep detailed client lists that included everyone they’d seen in the past two years. Had other women recently left Owen for another counsellor, or were the three Lesley knew about the only ones?

  She entered the appropriate search parameters. The resulting list contained six names; three other women had recently switched from Owen to other counsellors. A quick perusal of their records brought two interesting points to light: all six women were in their twenties and Solitaries. Perhaps Owen had thought that Solitaries would be less likely to resist him. Had any of the women not resisted him? Her skin crawled. She wished Mo was still on tour, safely away from a potential catastrophe.

  Mo. She hadn’t beeped, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t received Papers. She could be busy with her family or had forgotten about their promise. Or perhaps she no longer cared . . . Lesley shook herself and again focused on the list.

  The remaining four women would have to be interviewed, to see if any had stories similar to Tyson’s. It was time to beep Laura—she’d want to involve other members of the group to speed up the investigation. Lesley braced herself as she typed in Laura’s code. She was about to give her the worst possible news, though there was still a slim shred of hope that Tyson’s story was the work of a depraved imagination.

  “Finney.”

  Lesley drew a deep breath. “Laura, we have a problem.”

  *****

  Lesley stifled a yawn as she pulled a chair out from the conference room table. She nodded to Laura and Woods, both of whom looked as tired as she felt. Why had Admiral Hall invited her to this 07:00 meeting? Laura knew as much about the investigation as she did, probably more. They’d spent half the night searching and wiring Owen’s office and then restoring it to how they’d found it, right down to the number of centimetres the door had been ajar. Lesley would have to make it through the day on two hours’ sleep, and it could turn out to be quite a day.

  An officer she didn’t recognize strolled in and dropped a file onto the table. He nodded to everyone as he also sat down. From the meeting’s invite list, she deduced that he must be Lieutenant Commander Russell from the liaison office.

  Moments later, Admiral Hall entered the room. “Good morning,” he said as he shut the door. “Before we start, I want to remind you that everything we say in this meeting is need-to-know. Understood?” Everyone nodded. “Good.” He sat at the head of the table. “Based on the interviews Commander Finney’s group conducted with Owen’s former clients, we know that we probably have a Chosen Violation on our hands.”

  All but one had told stories similar to Hubert’s. One had also said that Owen had raised touch therapy as something they might try in the future. So Tyson had told the truth, and Hubert probably hadn’t said anything to prompt Owen’s questions about her sex life. A clear pattern of behaviour had emerged, one Laura had taught Lesley to recognize. The search of Owen’s office and a careful reading of his recent records hadn’t yielded any evidence, which wasn’t surprising, or encouraging. If Owen’s reasons for asking his former clients about their sex lives had been sound, why hadn’t he documented the sexually-related questions or his reasons for asking them in any of his client files? And they hadn’t found anything in his office related to touch therapy. No books, no notes, nothing.

  “I could justify executing him based on what we have,” Hall continued, “but since we’re talking about a man’s life and destroying a Joining, I’d like to be absolutely sure by witnessing a violation ourselves. Based on what we’ve discovered, I’m sure we won’t have to wait long. It also gives us a bit more time to prepare. I want to avoid the chaos that occurred during the Adams Incident. This time we know what’s coming in advance. So let’s review the plan for today. Commander Finney?”

  Laura leaned forward. “Owen has two appointments with clients who fit the profile. The first is at 11:00 and the second is at 15:30.”

  Hall pressed a button on the table. The large comm screen on the wall flickered to life. “Channel?”

  “Eight.”

  He switched to eight; Owen’s office appeared on the screen. “Good.”

  “I’ll watch from outpost B4-5, two minutes away. My people will be assembled there, ready to move.” Lesley would be in that group. They were to bring Owen back here, to headquarters. Again, she wondered why she was at the meeting.

  “Unless you need to intervene immediately, wait until the session ends,” Hall said. “We don’t want to start a panic.”

  “Understood. I’ll also have people out interviewing all of Owen’s current clients that fit the profile. We may find a few that brushed off his questions and stuck with him.”

  “I hope that’s all you find,” Hall murmured. So far it looked as if Owen was the only one who’d committed a Chosen Violation. Everyone hoped it would stay that way. Hall shifted his gaze away from Laura. “Lieutenant Woods?”

  “We’re tracking the locations of his Chosen and her parents. As soon as we receive word, we’ll break the news to his Chosen’s parents. And then we’ll go with them to tell his Chosen,” she said, grimacing.

  Lesley didn’t envy Woods. She couldn’t imagine how it would feel to find out that one’s Chosen had violated the Chosen bond. She certainly wouldn’t want to be the bearer of the horrible news.

  “Once the home has been vacated, we’ll search it,” Laura said.

  Hall nodded, his eyes still on Woods. “I know it will be an emotional time for the family, but try to keep it quiet. As I said, I don’t want a repeat of the Adams Incident. I want to control the flow of information. I want Rymellans to find out about the Chosen Violation from us, not from each other, and only when we’re ready to announce it. Which brings me to you, Lieutenant Commander Thompson.” She tensed when Hall looked at her. “Someone has to be the military’s face during this time. I want that someone to be you. You’re experienced at recording announcements, Rymellans know you, and you’re involved in the investigation. You’ll be able to say that you were present during the planning of the operation and participated in Owen’s capture. That will reassure Rymellans. You’ll bring credibility to the announcements.”

  Lesley’s heart sank.

  “Communications is working on the initial announcement you’ll give. When you’ve returned here, report to the studio and stay there. We’ll want to release information in stages.”

  “Yes, Admiral.” I’m sorry, Mo.

  Hall’s attention left her. “Lieutenant Russell?”

  Russell straightened. “I’ve informed the Chosen Council. It will review its data for the lines involved and let us know if we should be concerned about anyone else.”

  “I doubt it, but knowing that the Chosen Council has checked will reassure Rymellans. At least this time we won’t have to deal with children, as we did during the Adams Incident.”

  “Children?” Laura said, voicing the question in Lesley’s mind.

  “Yes. The Adamses had children. Two.” His brows drew together. “You didn’t know?”

  “None of the public documents mention children.”

  “That’s not surprising. We didn’t change their names, but we did try to protect them. Well, some tried. The debate about them dragged on for weeks, when Rymellans should have been focused on pulling together and reaffirming the Way.”

  “What debate?” Laura asked.

  Hall glanced around the table. “That’s true, I doubt any of you would have been aware of what was going on behind the scenes. E8 isn’t one of our sectors, and some of you would have been at the Indoctrination Academy. I’m dating myself,” he said ruefully. “I only know about it because I was a commodore at the time and was working out of F8 headquarters.” He pursed his lips and drummed his fingers on the table. “I don’t see any harm in talking about it now. After the Incident, some Rymellans, including members of the government and military, called for the children’s executions. Both parents involved in Chosen Violations? What did that say about the children? What had they learned at home? W
hat had they witnessed? Were they destined to fall? Would there be another Adams Incident in the future if they remained alive?”

  “I can understand the concerns,” Laura said.

  “So can I, but executing children . . . would you have wanted to be the commander at the execution site that day?”

  Lesley wished she could see Laura’s face, but Laura was sitting next to her. She didn’t want to be obvious and turn toward her. “So they were both underage?” Laura asked quietly.

  “One was. The other was barely of age. Seventeen, I think. Those wanting the executions petitioned the Law for addition of an article pertaining to children whose parents had both committed Chosen Violations. They also petitioned for a dispensation to Article 62, so the younger one could be executed despite her age.”

  Lesley’s curiosity trumped decorum. “What happened?” Maybe the children were long dead.

  “The overseers denied all petitions, saying it would set a dangerous precedent. That didn’t sit well with many Rymellans. To be honest, I felt uneasy about it, but I agreed with the overseers. It was an emotional time for Rymellans. Everyone was reacting rather than thinking. If we’d gone ahead and executed the children, would we have regretted it a few weeks or months later, when we’d all calmed down?”

  “Not if the children fell, as some predicted,” Laura said.

  “They haven’t. An overseer said to me back then, ‘If the children are compromised, they’ll eventually find their own way to an execution site. Trust the Way.’ He was right.”

  Lesley shifted in her seat. Maybe he was, but how many Rymellans would they take with them? Four had been executed during the Incident; only two had been Adamses. The knowledge that members of that sick family still walked among them unsettled her. A glance at Woods, seated across from her, told Lesley that she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.