The Seer’s Sister: Prequel to The Magic Eaters Trilogy

by Carol Beth Anderson

  She planted her feet, trying to breathe past the band of tightness on her chest. “But I didn’t answer the door.”

  He laughed. “Good thing I was out there! I accepted it for you. Come on, let me show you!”

  She allowed him to lead her. Just as they got to the door, she moaned, “But I hate purple.”

  He opened the door and looked back at her, his mouth gaping open. “How’d you know . . . ?”

  Ellin let go of his hand and walked past him. It felt like she was trudging through waist-deep oil.

  There it was, ugly and glossy and new, a shining purple confirmation of the coming apocalypse.

  She covered her face with her hands and lowered herself to the ground. Immediately, she heard Trett sit next to her.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, dread filling his words.

  Ellin pulled her hands off her face and turned to Trett, refusing to look at the traitorous hover scooter. “Rona’s still a seer,” she said. “And we have to find a way to stop Alvun Merak.”

  9

  SUNDAY, QUARI 7, 6293

  -62 DAYS

  Rona sat on her bed, firmed her flex, and pulled up Kizha’s most recent em. She typed,

  Up for some hacking?

  While she waited for a response, she pressed her fingertips to her aching temples. She hadn’t yet fully recovered from her PVS after the big vision four days earlier. The prophecies since then had continued to set her back.

  The delivery of that purple hov had just added to Rona’s stress. When she’d seen it sitting in front of the house, she’d frozen in place, bombarded by conflicting emotions. It erased her fears about her mind deteriorating. It also confirmed the inconceivable, bloody reality of her apocalyptic vision. It’s true. It’s all true.

  As she’d eaten dinner with Ellin and Trett, Rona had endured yet another prophecy. It was a premonition, and it had answered a question she’d been obsessed with since yesterday: How can we get inside Merak Technologies?

  Her flex buzzed, interrupting her recollection. She read Kizha’s response.

  I’m always up for a little hacking! What do you need?

  Gritting her teeth against the urge to tell Kizha everything, Rona kept her message short.

  Ellin, Trett, and I need to start internships at Merak Technologies ASAP.

  Kizha replied,

  I’m calling you.

  A few seconds later, Rona accepted a video chat request, and Kizha’s face popped up on her screen. Kizha didn’t ask why she wanted to intern at Merak Technologies. Instead, her analytical mind attacked the problem of enrolling them into an internship program. She treated it like she was designing a piece of technology, determining what parts she needed and how she could attain them.

  Kizha’s voice came through her flex speaker. “It looks like they only accept interns who are at least nineteen. Ellin and Trett will have to use the counterfeit IDs we established for them a while back.” Her eyes narrowed. “Were you already planning this back then?”

  Rona’s mouth went dry. Two years ago, when she’d gotten a nudge to get fake IDs for herself, Ellin, and Trett, she’d almost disregarded the ridiculous notion. It had returned, persistent and stronger than ever, until she gave in.

  She remembered what she’d told Kizha when she’d asked her to arrange the IDs: “Yes, I’m serious. No, I’m not planning to start a new life of crime.” They’d both laughed, and Kizha had promised to help.

  How long have all these little prophecies been preparing me for the big one?

  “Rona?” Kizha’s brow creased over her green eyes.

  “I, uh—” Rona licked her lips. “No, I wasn’t planning this back then. And we won’t just need Ellin’s and Trett’s new IDs. We’ll need mine too. I don’t want to intern under my real name.”

  Kizha raised an eyebrow, but she still didn’t ask any questions.

  “Wasn’t one of your friends working on social media accounts for those identities?” Rona asked.

  “Yeah. She set up a simple AI to create several years of social media history and to post regularly on your accounts. One of my other friends arranged all the government records and the IDs themselves. He even made sure your photos were updated every year. You’ve all got hover scooter licenses. I’ll send you all the info so you can register your flexes under the new identities.”

  “Wow . . . that’s even more than I asked for. Thanks.”

  Kizha smiled. “You’re welcome. It says here that interns get free room and board, but you’ll have to fly out there, and you’ll need spending money.”

  “I’ve been saving what I can.” That habit was based on a premonition too. Rona had always saved ten percent of her accountant income. She’d had to dip into the money a few times, but much of it was still there. All because of a prophecy seven years ago. She shook her head, trying to bring her focus back to the present. “We have a brand new hov to sell too.”

  “You got a hov?”

  “Ellin won one. Today.”

  “Well, that’s good timing.”

  Rona nodded, not mentioning what had led them to volunteer at the rec center.

  Kizha continued, “The hardest thing will be getting you into Merak’s system as interns. Their network is notoriously secure.”

  “What about that hacker you connected with—the one who specializes in corporate jobs?”

  Kizha’s eyes widened. “Oh yeah! We were just chatting last week; he’s on the lookout for a challenge.” She tilted her head, and the corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. “Didn’t I connect with him because of another one of your nudges?”

  Rona swallowed. She was a little lightheaded. “Yes.”

  “So your gift has been preparing you for this internship? For at least two years?”

  “I guess so.” Rona drew in a deep breath. Prophecies that had seemed pointless for years streamed through her mind. How many of them fit into this complex puzzle?

  A sense of helplessness swallowed her. She’d always thought God (or whoever controlled her visions) was partnering with her to make the world better. Now it seemed she was merely a tool. The one wielding her had all the power. I never agreed to this, never wanted it.

  “This thing you’re doing,” Kizha said softly, “it must be big.”

  Rona released her breath in a loud sigh. “It is.”

  Kizha leaned in, her face filling Rona’s screen. “Is everything okay?” Her low voice was full of concern and care; her lips were parted as she waited for her answer; her eyes—

  “I’m fine,” Rona blurted. “I think you’d better reach out to that friend of yours.”

  Kizha leaned back, nodding slowly. “Okay, I will.” She watched Rona with her head tilted, like she expected her to say more.

  “Thanks,” Rona murmured. She touched her screen and ended the chat.

  “We’re all starting internships at Merak Technologies,” Rona said.

  Ellin looked up from the couch where she’d been sleeping. It was late, but Trett was still there, dozing in the chair. After dinner, Rona had instructed them not to go anywhere. Then she’d disappeared in her room for hours.

  Trett rubbed his bleary eyes. “Did you say we’re all going to be interns for Merak?”

  “Yes. Look at this.” Ellin was taking up the whole couch, so Rona pushed her sister’s legs out of the way, sat in the space she’d made, and held out her flexscreen.

  Ellin sat up. On Rona’s flex were three digital identification cards. They had pictures of Ellin, Trett, and Rona on them. The first names were correct, but Ellin was no longer Ellin Abrinan. She was Ellin Havier. Rona’s new last name was Sheller, and Trett’s had changed from Stelios to Coldin.

  Ellin’s heart started beating uncomfortably quickly. “Trett, you’re gonna want to see this,” Ellin said. She made room for him, and he joined them on the couch.

  “What are we looking at?” Trett asked.

  “Fake IDs.” Ellin said before turning back to Rona. “Do you have any i
dea how much trouble we’ll be in if we get caught with these?”

  Rona zoomed in on hers. “We won’t get caught. See, they’re perfect; they’ve even got the digital watermark. That’s hard to fake.”

  “I—” Ellin shook her head. “This is ridiculous. There’s no reason for us to change our names or go jetting off to Merak headquarters. We’re not characters in some spy film, Rona; we—”

  Rona interrupted, “If there was an easier path, we’d be taking it. This is how we have to proceed.”

  Ellin stood and paced, trying to stave off her panic. “You can go without me! I’ll stay at home and research everything happening at that dig site. The moment I find anything suspicious, I’ll write letters to Alvun Merak and all his executives. I’ll send those same letters to every newsorg on the planet. I’m not leaving town and walking around with a fake ID! It’s an arrest waiting to happen!”

  “Rona,” Trett said in a much calmer tone, “I’m sure you can understand this is all pretty shocking for us. How did you get those IDs so quickly, anyway? You’ve only been in your room a few hours.”

  “I’ve had the IDs for two years.” Rona looked at Ellin, whose mouth was gaping. “A nudge,” she clarified.

  Ellin dropped back onto the couch. “Where did you get them?”

  Rona stared at her sister, lips pressed into a thin line, like she was considering what to share. Finally, she said, “I know a hacker. One of her friends got the IDs.”

  Ellin laughed, because she didn’t know what else to do. Since when was Rona, an upright and uptight accountant, connected to society’s seedy digital underbelly? “A hacker friend, of course,” she said with a harsh laugh. “I suppose you and this hacker have been working on getting us these internships for months too? Without ever mentioning it to me and Trett?”

  “No, Ellin, that all started tonight. My friend knows someone who has access to Merak Technology’s internal records. He added us to the intern roster.”

  Ellin turned her disbelieving eyes on Trett. “Help me out here, please.”

  Trett smiled. It was a look of peaceful diplomacy. “Rona, you have to admit, Ellin’s concerns are valid. You want us to use illegal IDs to take on internships we didn’t legitimately earn. Why can’t we do what Ellin said—work here to gather information and contact as many people as possible? In a company as big as Merak’s, the chances of any of us being assigned to the Cellerin Project are miniscule. Plus, corporate internships can be pretty intense. We’ll probably have more time to fight this if we stay home.”

  Rona pursed her lips and closed her eyes. She released her breath noisily before leaning toward Trett and speaking slowly. “When I said we have to do it this way, it’s because I got a very strong nudge. Believe me, the last thing I want is to fly to the west coast of Vallinger and sit at some desk in a huge office for weeks on end.

  “When that purple hov showed up, you both told me you know I’m not splicing. If you believe my message about the apocalypse, you need to believe this one too. We have to be interns. Our identities must match the facts on our intern applications. Period.” She looked at Ellin, and her impatient expression turned the slightest bit gentle. “I hate breaking rules too. I wish we could do this differently.”

  Ellin’s nose tingled and throat tightened as her eyes filled with tears. They had to go; she knew it was true. Why can’t there be another way? She had a life here, a good life. School had always given her purpose. Maybe it was irrational; certainly it was silly—but the thought of giving up what she’d worked for was torturous. Was it worth it, to save the world? Of course it was. That didn’t mean she had to like it.

  She held her tears back and spoke in a soft, controlled voice. “Trett can definitely come with us?”

  “He has to,” Rona replied.

  Trett took Ellin’s hand. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He shifted his attention back to Rona. “How will we get there?

  All business again, Rona tapped her screen. Three solarplane tickets appeared. “We’re leaving in eight days.”

  “That must have been expensive,” Ellin said.

  “I’ve saved up some money.” Rona clicked on a marketplace site and showed it to Ellin. ”Also, I listed your purple hov for sale.”

  “Well, thank goodness for small blessings,” Ellin said with a small laugh.

  Trett asked how they’d manage to convince anyone of their new identities when they had no digital history, and Rona showed them social media sites full of photos they’d never taken and updates they’d never posted. Next, she pulled up a private Merak site for interns only. Their assigned rooms were all adjacent to each other, thanks to the same unnamed hacker who’d gotten them into the program.

  Ellin massaged the back of her neck and forced out the words she knew she needed to say. “Okay. I’ll go.”

  Rona’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

  “Here’s the thing,” Ellin continued. “If we somehow manage to prevent your prophecy from coming true, we’ll need to be ready to return to our normal lives. I’m still planning to be a technisurgeon, even if I have to put it off, and that means I can’t stop thinking about university. You mentioned Trett and I could graduate early, but it’s too late for us to initiate that process.”

  “Apparently the power behind my visions had pity on your poor, overachieving soul.” Rona’s lip quirked in a miniscule smirk. “Six months ago, based on a prophecy, I submitted early graduation applications for you and Trett.”

  “Six months ago? I was still seventeen. My parents would have had to sign that,” Trett said.

  “Digital forgery.” Rona gave him a guilty little shrug. “About an hour ago, I went back into the system and chose the early exit option for both of you. They’ll withdraw you from your classes and issue your diplomas within a week.”

  Ellin took that in. She might lose her class standing, but she was still graduating with incredibly high marks. Hopefully she could keep her scholarship if they succeeded in stopping Merak.

  No, when we succeed. Because we will.

  At that thought, something shifted in Ellin. Her unfinished history paper, her math assignments, her next speech—they all disappeared from the to-do list she’d etched in her mind, replaced by new objectives:

  Stop Alvun Merak.

  Save the world.

  She’d commit to this like she’d never committed to anything before. If there was a way to destroy the immutability of a prophecy, she’d find it.

  Her mouth widened into a grin. Alvun Merak won’t know what hit him.

  10

  MONDAY, QUARI 15, 6293

  -54 DAYS

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Trett told the glidecraft pilot.

  “I have to charge for the time I’m waiting, you know,” the woman said.

  “That’s fine.”

  He stepped out of the craft onto Ellin’s lawn. Just as he was walking up to her front door, it opened. Mr. Karel, Trett and Ellin’s math teacher, stepped out. He gave Trett a disgusted glance, then looked away, shaking his head as he walked toward the school.

  Ellin was in the entry hallway. Trett stepped in and asked, “What was that all about?”

  Her eyes were red and puffy. “I’ll tell you in the taxi. We should go.”

  Trett nodded. “I’ll load up while you get Rona.” He wheeled Ellin’s and Rona’s suitcases outside, and the pilot loaded them in the cargo area under the glidecraft.

  Two minutes later, they were all settled, Rona next to the pilot and Trett and Ellin in the rear seats. The craft lifted into the air.

  “Why was Mr. Karel there?” Trett murmured to Ellin.

  “He heard I’m not coming back. He got an administrator to teach his classes so he could come talk me out of it.”

  Trett put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “I’m sorry.” He kissed her hair.

  “He was here for two hours. I had to repeatedly lie to my favorite teacher about where we’re going. Do you have any idea how
hard that was?” She was clearly holding back tears.

  Trett, too, hated having to lie to his friends and family. No one could know where they really were, lest someone blow their cover. They’d told everyone that they’d gotten jobs surveying uninhabited land in the far north and would be out of communication range. “If it helps at all,” he said, “I think Mr. Karel blamed me for you leaving. He gave me the dirtiest look I’ve ever seen.”

  Ellin groaned. “When he heard we were leaving together, he thought it must’ve been your idea. As if I’d never choose to graduate early unless my boyfriend had some emotional hold on me. I thought he trusted me more than that.”

  “He knows you as someone who practically lives at school. You have to admit, leaving like this is out of character for you.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “How did it go with your parents?”

  “It was fine. I don’t know why I waited until this morning to tell them I was leaving. I guess I was afraid they’d be upset.”

  Ellin turned her head and met his gaze. “Maybe you hoped they’d care enough to try to stop you?”

  He sighed. “Yeah. I guess so. I shouldn’t be surprised that they were fine with it. ‘Surveying with scientists in a frigid wilderness? Sounds like a good opportunity. You’ll get college credit for it? Even better.’ ”

  “I’m sorry, Trett. Was it weird saying goodbye?”

  He blinked away tears. His parents had always been distant, but saying goodbye for what might be the last time had been awful. He’d had to pretend to be cheerful, since as far as his parents knew, he’d only be gone a couple of months. Hopefully that’s true.

  He realized he hadn’t answered Ellin’s question. “Yeah.” His voice was soft. “Saying goodbye was weird.”

  She placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him, then relaxed against him again.

  Before long, they were at the airport, standing in front of a massive, sleek solarplane. The afternoon sun glinted on the red Sonic Air logo. The name was an artifact from the early days of faster-than-sound air travel. These days, all passenger planes were both sonic and solar, powered by the sun’s rays.