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“When it could cost him his sanity?” Avir growled. “I agree with Masok. I can’t handle what just went down happening again. I won’t lose Matt to those men.”
Retel regarded them calmly. “They already possess pieces of him. This is your chance to help him reclaim what they’ve stolen.”
Masok’s heart dropped. He wanted to shout at Retel. Hell, he wanted to punch him in the mouth so he’d stop saying such things.
Deep inside, however, he realized the doctor was right. Matt’s father and uncle lived in his mind and haunted his every move. But if confronting them failed to work, if Matt blanked out and was unable to come back…
“Let me show him Valter’s picture. Let me help him see the real person instead of the mythical beast he’s made him into,” Retel urged.
Masok gazed at Avir. “It’s worth a shot. Right? It’s only a still, and if Mattie can get past what he thinks is there…”
Avir’s fists clenched, but he nodded. “Okay. We’ll give the picture a try. But I swear, if he loses his head…Doctor, don’t take Matt from us. Don’t push him away again.”
“I’ll go very carefully, Dramok. I promise every step along the way will be cautious.”
“All right then.” Spoken with the reluctance Masok felt.
They entered the room. Matt smiled brightly at them, and once more, Masok’s heart gave a tug. He appeared so calm. So perfectly fine. If the Imdiko hadn’t witnessed his terrifying blank stare mere hours before, he wouldn’t have believed anything could be wrong with his companion.
“Hey, Kom says I didn’t lose the chance to be repped by Parlek even though he saw my, um, episode.”
“He sent me the contract to have the lawyers look over while we were in the waiting room,” Avir said, his tone betraying none of the upset Masok knew he was going through at the moment. “When they heard no visitors besides us would be allowed in tonight, he and the group left, but they sent their best wishes you’ll feel better soon.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t ruin it by freaking out the way I did. It’s a miracle.” The smile turned tremulous.
“Parlek’s probably seen much worse from other musicians. He reps Irene, and possibly other Earthers, so he’s no doubt heard plenty of horror stories,” Masok guessed.
“Matt, I wish to try an experiment,” Retel said. “You might find it upsetting, so let’s establish a couple of facts: your clan is here to protect you. You’re in the hospital, and you’re safe. Valter Larsen has been ejected from Kalquor, and he’ll be put in prison if he tries to return. Can you accept these facts?”
Matt eyed him suspiciously. “Okay. I understand. He’s really gone?” He glanced at Avir.
“My lawyers confirmed authorities put him on a shuttle to return him to Galactic Council space,” Avir said. “I can show you the message, if you like.”
“I trust you.” Matt asked Retel, “What’s the experiment?”
“Avir will show you pictures his lawyers sent. They’re of Valter, taken at the police station as he was processed. They’re intake pictures, Matt. Nothing except a closeup of his face and a full body shot.”
When Matt glanced at Avir, the Dramok nodded. “Just stills. Nothing to be afraid of.”
Matt licked his lips, and his feet, hanging over the side of the medi-bed in the air, twitched. Nervous tics. Masok stepped close and offered his hand. Matt took it, wearing a grateful smile.
“Okay, I guess. I’ll look at the pictures. But why do you want me to?”
“I’m curious about what you can tell me about them. That’s all.” Retel nodded to Avir. “Let him see.”
The Dramok drew a breath and brought the shots up. He showed them to Matt.
Matt’s grip on Masok’s hand tightened as his eyes flicked toward the pair of stills. He as quickly glanced away. “Okay, I looked. It’s Valter. He looks pissed off, as usual.”
“Will you look at him again, Matt? Will you describe to me what you see?”
Masok’s fingers hurt as Matt’s grip bore down, but he refused to complain. He was certain it was nothing compared to the hell his companion was in.
The painful clutch lessened as Matt took a longer peek. His gaze skittered aside. “I see Valter. He has a mean expression, the kind he gets when people are pissing him off and he’s figuring out how to make them pay.”
“Has he changed since you last encountered him? Has he aged any?”
Matt checked. “His hair’s gray. What’s left of it. And…he’s wrinkled. He’s old.” He leaned forward, at last examining the pictures with an intent expression. “He’s really old. And thin. Not starved, but like all the juice in his body was drained out.”
