CHAPTER 171: The Virgin and the Masters, Part 64

CHAPTER 171: The Virgin and the Masters, Part 64
BETH

Michael shakes his head. “I don’t think sedation is the answer. Whatever happens, she’s going to have to deal with it. I think it’s better just to have the people she loves around her. As for taking her away; I don’t think you’d get her out of there with a bulldozer... Beth! You’ve left her alone?”

“She’s asleep.”

He looks angry, pushing past me, back into the room.

Charlotte is still there, sleeping, but is now in James’ bed, lying next to him, one hand resting against his face.

A doctor arrives, white-coated and efficient looking. He spots Charlotte in the bed, and for a moment, surprise, then disapproval, washes across his face.

“You want us to get her out of there?” asks Michael.

The doctor hesitates, then shrugs. “Strictly, I should say yes, but on the other hand, if he can feel or hear anything, I don’t know of a better way to remind a man what he has to live for.”



CHARLOTTE

I’m trying to sleep, but can’t. Michael has his arms around me and drifts between sleeping and waking. From his breathing, I’d say he’s sleeping right now.

Blurry-eyed, my head aching from too much crying, I watch my Master. He’s close, all but next to me after Michael pushed the two single beds together.

His eyes blink open.

He’s not focussed, his stare glazed, not fixing on anything.

But he’s waking.

I push back to my sleeping lover. “Michael! Michael!”

Michael’s voice is confused, groggy. “What? Charlotte? What was that?”

“He opened his eyes. He’s waking up.”

But as I look back, and Michael sits up to see, my Master’s eyes are closed again.

It doesn’t matter. He’s waking up... He’s getting better.



I sit in the armchair by my Master’s side, reading to him.

“... The way to live a long time - oh, a thousand years or more - is something between the way a child does it and the way a mature man does it… No regrets, ever...”

His eyelids blink open, dark eyes staring aimlessly at the ceiling. They close again, but a moment later, flick back.

I lean forward in my seat. “Master?” I whisper. “Master? Can you hear me?”

He blinks again, then his eyes slide sideways towards me. He tries to speak, and fails, mouth and lips dry. Quickly I dip fingers in the water jug, pat his lips damp. I pour a little into a glass, and supporting his head, holding the glass carefully, I help him sip a little, wet his mouth. “Master? Is that better?”

This time his eyes meet mine. “Charlotte?” His voice is so weak, but he’s speaking. He’s with me again.

I take his hand in mine. “Yes, it’s me. I’m here, Master.”

He smiles, still struggling to speak. “That’s good, Charlotte. That’s good.”



“How are you feeling?” asks Michael.

My Master, lying flat on his back, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, “Err... terrible, actually. I’ve never felt so knocked out.”

“Mmm... That’s a good sign actually.”

My Master looks up at him doubtfully. “It is?”

“Ah-ha. It means you’re alive.”



“How long have I been here? I feel dreadful.”

“Four days,” says Michael. “Do you remember what happened?”

“Um... no, not really. I was blasting Charlotte for behaving like a maniac.” He frowns at me, but his lips are puckering to a smile. “Then... er... it’s a bit hazy after that...”

“Corby was there, with a gun, aimed at Charlotte. I tried to get to him, to stop him from firing, but I couldn’t move fast enough. I only knocked his aim off. You grabbed Charlotte, and shielded her with your body; took the shot instead.”

My Master blinks. “I did?”

“You did. It was either the bravest or the most stupid thing I’ve ever seen. You dropped like a stone, and I think you were unconscious before you hit the ground. The bullet severed your femoral artery. You lost a lot of blood. You’re very lucky to still be here, to be able to complain about how you feel.”

My Master swallows, digesting this. “But Charlotte wasn’t hit?” His eyes swing back to me.

“No Master. It didn’t touch me. I’m fine. And even if you don’t remember doing it, thank you. I’d be dead if it weren’t for you; for the two of you.”



A day later, pumped with painkillers, my Master is much more himself. He is still very weak but is sitting up in bed, propped up with pillows. With me and Michael, Richard and Beth, sitting around him, he is happily talking, with the air of one giving court.

While he and Richard discuss plans, Michael sitting, silently watching, taking everything in, it all feels so much more normal...

Whatever that means...

“So where do we work from now, as a base?” asks my Master. “With the old offices burned out. What has actually been lost?”

“Oh, it’s by no means a disaster,” says Richard. “All the information that mattered was stored in the cloud anyway. And, as you know, it was always the plan that we would move to the new headquarters as part of the City Project. I’ve simply brought forward that phase of the works. The offices are going up as we speak. We should be in there within three months.”

“And until then?”

“Until then, I’ve rented out one of the old warehouse blocks down by the docks. It’s not ideal, but it will do as a temporary fix…”

Beth has brought some more of Ross’ delicious food. Ye gods, but I’m hungry!