Pathways - Jeri Taylor [160]
“I see,” he extemporized. “Why exactly do you think I’m out of my mind?”
Wix gave a short snort of frustration. “Are you kidding me? Any time you’re not inhaling crystal smoke, you’re out of control. You’re rabid until you get your next batch. It’s got a dangerous hold on you, Neelix, and I’ve got to do something to help you.”
Neelix considered this. It was clear that Wix was unaware of his insanity, and that made him hazardous. Neelix would have to be careful, and clever, to get out of this one. If only he’d realized Wix was this unstable when he met him, he would never have ended up in this perilous situation.
“Let me see if I understand. You’re helping me . . . by tying me up like this?”
Wix nodded. “I’m going to keep you there where you’re safe until the crystals are purged from your system. It won’t be easy. I’m told it’s a painful process. But it’s the only way. I’ll be here with you, and I’ll take care of you.”
Neelix’s mind was racing, trying to come up with a plan, a way to get Wix to untie him. But his mind didn’t seem to be responding; he felt edgy, and nervous. Fear began to invade him, and he felt a cold fist clutching at his stomach. Well, who wouldn’t be frightened to be in the hands of a madman? He tried to reposition himself on the bunk, because his muscles were beginning to ache even more, and he had to move around somehow, get rid of the stiffness.
“Wix, you have to loosen these ties. They’re too tight. I can’t feel my feet.”
“That’s not the ties. It’s your body’s response to the fact that your system doesn’t have a fresh supply of crystals.”
“How do you know so much about this? You inhale as much as I do. You’re the one with the problem.” Neelix was finding it difficult to speak; he could hear his voice ringing in his ears with a surreal quality.
“No one inhales as much as you. I’ve never known anyone who needed the crystals so often. I enjoy them as much as the next person, but I’ve kept it in moderation. You haven’t.”
Neelix could feel himself beginning to get desperate. This was impossible. He couldn’t lie here like a trussed gotha hog while his muscles began to inflame and his mind scramble. Wix had to understand that, he had to find a way to reach this madman.
“Let me go, Wix. If you untie me now, there’ll be no hard feelings. If you don’t, I’ll put a blade in your guts and rip them out of your body.”
Wix’s sad eyes held his. “It’ll be over in a few days. I’ll be here, and I’ll do my best to take care of you.”
Panic clutched at Neelix. He had to get up. He had to move his arms and legs and stop the burning in his muscles. He strained against his bonds and pulled as hard as he could. They didn’t yield.
“Wix, let me inhale just a little, one more time. To ease off. That couldn’t hurt, you’ve got me where you want, I can’t go anyplace. Just one little sniff, to take the edge off, that’s all, and I won’t ask again, I promise.”
Wix shook his head forlornly. “Would you like some water? You mustn’t get dehydrated.”
Disbelief rattled through Neelix’s fragmenting mind. Wix wasn’t going to listen to reason. He was absolutely, unequivocally a raging lunatic, and he was going to sit there and mouth his ridiculous theories while Neelix died slowly in front of him.
“Wix . . . just untie one arm. Let me move it around for a while. Then you can retie it and loose the other one. What harm can that do?”
“It isn’t going to help you to move your arm around. And I can’t risk your finding a way to get loose.”
Neelix screamed, a sudden, violent howling, intended to startle Wix and impress on him how determined Neelix was, and Wix certainly did react, jumping off his stool and backing against the wall in alarm. But after that initial reaction he seemed to stiffen his resolve, and sat down once more.
The screaming hadn’t helped Neelix’s burning muscles, either. Now they hurt even more, as though they were being grated with sand. Hot sand. Sand that had been