Maybe. I wouldn’t bother to ask, since in the end, I supposed it probably didn’t matter one way or another.
No, what mattered was that I got to sit in a room with real windows, and so I could see it was another sunny day there in Alexandria, Virginia. I wondered if the skies were just as blue thousands of miles away in Flagstaff. Probably bluer, if only because there wasn’t much air pollution in northern Arizona, unlike the area around Washington, D.C.
“How are you today, Addie?” Dr. Woodrow asked. He had an iPad Pro lying on the table in front of him, presumably for taking notes.
“Fine,” I replied, then added, “Getting sort of tired of oatmeal.”
That response made his mouth quirk slightly. He actually was kind of good-looking, although even if I hadn’t been with Jake, I would have considered him too old to be an object of interest, probably at least eight or nine years older than I was. Still, I realized he was still pretty young to be holding a position of such responsibility, and wondered how he’d managed to end up working for the SED.
“We’ll have to do something about that,” Dr. Woodrow said. “Actually, Dr. Richards should have shown you how to order breakfast and how to make special requests if you don’t want the standard evening meal — there’s a menu you can access through your entertainment console. I can show you how it works when I take you back to your suite.”
“Thanks,” I said. Why Michelle Richards had decided to let me eat instant oatmeal two days in a row — and didn’t tell me that I could put in dinner requests — rather than giving me access to the same amenities as the rest of the test subjects, I wasn’t sure. She definitely didn’t seem to me like the sort of person who would overlook that kind of detail, which meant she must have done it on purpose. Testing me to see how long it would take for me to raise a stink?
Maybe.
“Have you had a chance to work on any of your mindfulness exercises?” Dr. Woodrow asked.
I nodded. “I had some time this morning after I finished getting ready.”
This meeting was taking place much later than the one the day before, when I’d been taken out to the north field at nine in the morning. There had been a flashing message on the TV when I turned it on that informed me Dr. Woodrow would be coming to get me at eleven. Why so late, I didn’t know, but the additional downtime had given me the opportunity to work through a couple of the exercises Dr. Richards had sent me. Actually, that might have been the whole point of giving me some extra space in my morning.
“Do you think they helped?” he asked.
I settled back in my seat and gazed across the table at Dr. Woodrow. His expression was open and friendly, but I didn’t know whether he looked like that to put me at my ease or whether that was the way he always appeared. “There’s really only one way to find out, isn’t there?”
He didn’t blink. “True enough. You can feel the weather from in here, can’t you?”
“Sure. I’m not ten stories down…or however deep my room is.”
I should have known he wouldn’t rise to the bait. No reaction, no little twitches or tells to let me know whether my guess had been correct. He only gazed back at me, eyes as blue as the skies outside the window. “Well, then, let’s see what you can do now that you have a little focus. You’re not anxious or nervous this morning, are you?”
Maybe I should have been, but I wasn’t. Just knowing I would be working only with Dr. Woodrow that morning had taken a huge mental weight from my mind. While I’d slept well enough the night before, except for one bathroom break, it had taken me a while to relax, to make myself stop thinking about my interview with Randall Lenz. I still couldn’t quite figure out why he’d revealed so much of his personal history to me. To try to evoke some sympathy, to make me think he wasn’t quite the villain he appeared to be?
Good luck with that. I wouldn’t deny that he’d experienced tragedy in his life, but a loss like the one he’d suffered wasn’t enough to justify what he’d done to me, to my mother. I barely remembered anything about 9/11 — I was a tiny kid at the time, and my main memories of the incident were of my mother being glued to the TV set afterward, her pretty face taut with worry as those horrific images of tall skyscrapers exploding into flames against a backdrop of an impossibly blue sky kept playing over and over again. It wasn’t until I was much older and started learning about the tragedy in school that I realized how many people had lost their lives that day, how many families had been touched by those moments of terror.
Including Randall Lenz’s family. It was horrible, but I wasn’t about to feel sorry for him. If he really wanted to prove what a patriot he was, he could start with releasing everyone in the program…and I had a feeling that wasn’t going to happen.
I crossed my hands on the tabletop and looked back at Dr. Woodrow. “No, I’m not feeling nervous or anxious.”
“Good,” he said. “Then I’d like to try something simple. Can you try reaching out to see if you can bring a cloud over the courtyard outside?”
Yes, that was a simple enough trick. Or rather, it was simple for me because Joanna had taught me how to let my powers go with the flow. Dr. Woodrow didn’t know that, however, and I knew I had to make him think I was very new to all this.
“Well….” I hedged. Would biting my lip be too much? Probably, since it wasn’t something I normally did.
“It’s okay,” he said, his tone soothing. “Think of your mindfulness exercises. Just be present in the idea of having a cloud move over us. There’s no threat, nothing to worry about. Just let the weather talk to your gift.”
The guy was good. Maybe Dr. Richards had chosen him for this kind of work because he had a nice voice, friendly, gentle. Even if I hadn’t already been in control of my power, that voice of his might have convinced me I was.
Might as well give him some encouragement. I’d already determined that it was probably in my best interest to seem cooperative and to show some progress, so succeeding at this simple task really shouldn’t be an issue.
The day was sunny, but there were a few clouds drifting lazily along a few miles to the east. I felt them in my mind, soft and cool and friendly, and coaxed one of them along, pushing it opposite the prevailing wind so that it came drifting overhead.
Outside, the bright sunshine beaming down on the courtyard dimmed for a moment. Dr. Woodrow got up from his chair and went to the window so he could peer out. When he turned back toward me, he was smiling.
“Excellent, Addie.”
“There’s really a cloud?” I asked, my tone and expression as guileless as I could make them.
“See for yourself.”
I stood up as well and went to the window. Sure enough, a small cloud floated directly overhead, just thick enough to block some of the sun. The leaves on the trees in the courtyard fluttered, telling me the wind was brisk enough that the cloud should have already started to move on…but it didn’t, and instead remained fixed in position as though someone had pinned it to the bright blue sky above.
“Wow, it worked!”
“Of course, it did. You need to trust in your talent, Addie.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s just….”
“Just what?”
“It’s just that I’ve never had any control over it. It always scared me. But this….” I looked up at the cloud again, soft and innocent and white, as it floated overhead. “This is just fun.”
“It can be fun,” Dr. Woodrow said earnestly. “I’m not saying that our work here isn’t important, but there’s no reason why you can’t enjoy what you’re doing.”
I nodded. “Okay. Anything else?”
“Can you make it rain? Just here in the courtyard and nowhere else?”
Again, that was a simple enough trick. But I made myself shake my head. “I don’t know….”
“Try,” he urged me. “It’s just the two of us here. No one else is going to know if you tried and failed.”
My glance moved to the iPad he’d left sitting
on the table. “What about all the notes you’re taking for Dr. Richards?”
“I won’t mention it. I’ll just write up the way you successfully moved that one cloud over here.”
“Won’t you get in trouble for falsifying a report?”
“I wouldn’t call it falsifying. I’m only omitting a single piece of data.”
He looked so earnest, blue eyes shining down into mine, that I couldn’t help giving a reluctant chuckle. “Maybe you should have been a lawyer instead of a scientist.”
That remark made him laugh outright. “I actually thought about it for a bit, but then I decided science was more up my alley.”
“What kind of scientist are you, anyway?”
His smile faded slightly. “Behavioral psychologist. Of course, the work I do here is a bit far afield from the subject of my dissertation.”
I could only imagine. Somehow, I had the feeling they weren’t handing out many doctorates in ESP and telekinesis. “Well, most people end up doing something that doesn’t have much to do with their degree.”
“True enough. Give it a try, Addie.”
“Okay.”
I pulled in a breath and closed my eyes. Actually, I didn’t have to do either of those things to reach out with my talent, but I figured I might as well put on a bit of a show for the doctor.
The cloud wasn’t a big one, and yet I knew I wouldn’t have any problem coaxing the water vapor within to coalesce, to form into drops of liquid. Not too much, nothing that would drench someone crossing the courtyard to get from one wing of the building to another. Just enough to show Dr. Woodrow that I’d learned how to control this small part of my talent.
Rain fell from the cloud, gentle, misty, beginning to dampen the concrete walkways outside. His eyes lit up with wonder as the paths grew wetter, although it still was a very gentle rain.
“Can you stop it now?”
I nodded. That would be much easier, actually, because the cloud really should never have dropped any rain at all. I could tell it was eager to ride with the wind and rejoin its brethren, so I let it go and watched as the shadowed courtyard grew bright with sunlight again, the spatter of rain on the walkways already beginning to dry out.
Dr. Woodrow was beaming. I honestly never thought I’d actually see someone smile broadly enough that “beaming” could even be applied to them, but I had the feeling if he’d been any happier about the results of our little experiment, he probably would have danced a jig. “That was excellent, Addie, excellent,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Fine,” I told him, which was nothing more than the truth. Using my talents didn’t appear to take any mental or physical toll — well, except for the times when I’d been rightfully worried about the consequences of bringing those powers to bear.
“No headache? Fatigue?”
“Nothing like that.”
“Then I’d say those mindfulness exercises have worked out very well for you.” He stepped away from the window and went back over to the table, although he didn’t sit down, only picked up his iPad and touched something on the screen. “It’s almost noon — would you like to go down to the multipurpose unit to spend time with the others? There’ll be sandwiches for lunch.”
“That sounds great,” I said. Again, only the truth. I didn’t know what kind of sandwiches were being provided, but my meager meal of a small bowl of instant oatmeal hadn’t done much to satisfy my appetite, and I was hungry.
“Then let’s go.”
He led me out of the lab, pausing only to secure the door behind him. His smile disappeared as soon as we were out in the hallway, almost as if he didn’t want anyone we passed to know what a successful session we’d just had. Why, I couldn’t guess, except I supposed it was possible that he simply wanted to avoid any conversations with his fellow researchers until he’d seen me safely down to the level where the rest of my fellow test subjects were currently residing.
After all, even though the small tests I’d just passed with flying colors had been innocuous enough, Dr. Woodrow knew all too well that my power was a dangerous one until I was safely underground.
Since he hadn’t told me not to discuss those successful tests with the rest of the group, I cheerfully answered their questions as we all gathered in the multipurpose unit’s conversation pit and chowed down on some of the best deli sandwiches I’d ever eaten. I didn’t know who was doing the SED’s catering, but clearly that was one instance where my tax dollars were being put to good use.
“You’re making quick progress,” Natalie observed after swallowing a bite of pastrami on rye. “I didn’t have that much control over my gift until I’d been working with Dr. Keegan for almost a week.”
I gave a deprecating shrug. “Well, pushing clouds around probably isn’t as much work as making yourself look like someone else.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” she said, then paused to take another bite of her sandwich. “You’re doing really well.”
“Thanks to you and Ethan helping me with those mindfulness exercises.”
Ethan had been in the middle of swallowing some potato salad, so he couldn’t reply right away. When he did, he sounded thoughtful. “I’m kind of surprised they helped so much. I mean, just like Natalie, I’d been doing the work for days and days before I had any sort of real control.”
So much for trying to take it easy. Apparently, my attempt at subtlety hadn’t been a very successful one. But I’d already done the work, so there wasn’t much I could do except shrug and act as though none of it was a very big deal…although Natalie’s and Ethan’s reactions went a good way toward explaining why Dr. Woodrow had been so startled and happy with my accomplishments that morning.
“You’re lucky you got to work with Dr. Woodrow,” Lorna put in. She’d already finished her sandwich, but eyed a container of pasta salad wistfully before giving a small shake of her head, as if mentally scolding herself for wanting to eat anything else. “He’s a real cutie. If I were twenty years younger….”
Natalie grinned, while Ethan and Matthew and a few of the other guys looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I think they call that fraternizing, Lorna,” she said. “Big no-no.”
“Maybe so, but a girl can still dream.”
I had to smother a smile of my own. Yes, I’d already admitted to myself that Dr. Woodrow was attractive, and he seemed like a pretty nice guy…but he sure didn’t compare to Jake Wilcox.
Then again, who could?
Right then, I ached for him so badly that I had to pick up my glass of iced tea and take a large swallow, hoping I could distract myself with the flavor of the cool, astringent liquid slipping down my throat. It didn’t help much, unfortunately; I wanted to hear the sound of his voice, wanted to look into those velvety brown eyes with the friendly crinkles at the corners, needed to feel his strong arms holding me close, letting me know that I wasn’t alone, that he would be there for me just as he’d promised.
He will be there for you, I told myself. You know he’s working on getting you back. Just don’t get mopey in front of the others, or someone might start asking questions.
Those bracing inner words helped to smother my need…or at least tamp it down to a manageable level. Later, when I was alone, I could allow myself a good cry if I thought it might help. Or maybe not; I knew there were surveillance cameras in my room. The last thing I wanted was to give Randall Lenz the satisfaction of knowing he’d worn me down.
I took a bite of my honey ham and cheddar sandwich, then said, “More importantly, Dr. Woodrow seems like a nice guy.” I paused, then figured I’d go ahead and ask the question, since it seemed natural enough to me. “Do any of you know why I’d be assigned to work with him instead of Dr. Keegan or Dr. Richards?”
Ethan shrugged. “Usually, Dr. Richards just works with us in the beginning, and then we’re assigned to one of her two assistants. I honestly don’t know why we’re assigned to one or the other. I’ve always worked with Dr. Woodrow.”
“A
nd I got Dr. Keegan,” Natalie said. “Which I’m not too happy about, because he’s a real grump compared to Dr. Woodrow. Luck of the draw, I guess.”
Maybe…or maybe not. Ethan’s talent, like mine, worked on objects outside him, while Natalie’s was more self-focused. That could have been the deciding factor, or maybe it all was completely random.
Either way, I hoped I wouldn’t be sticking around long enough to find out.
“Do they ever let you out of here?” I asked next.
Natalie’s mouth twisted in a lopsided grin. “What, you mean like on a field trip?”
As soon as she made that response, I realized it had been a pretty silly question. I somehow doubted Randall Lenz would be cool with letting his valuable specimens free to have a day at the beach or something.
“No, we never go anywhere,” Matthew put in. He’d been watching and listening quietly up until that point, but it seemed as though he wanted to insert himself in the conversation. “I mean, we sometimes can go out in the courtyard or out to the north field if the weather is decent, but that’s about it.”
Oh, well. So much for the vague notion that maybe if I was allowed out of the facility at some point, I could use my weather talents to assist me in making a jailbreak. It sure looked as though I wasn’t going to be allowed that opportunity.
I supposed I shouldn’t have been too surprised.
“Well, at least you get some fresh air,” I said.
He shook his head. “Not enough. But it is what it is.”
I didn’t like the note of resignation in his voice. Yes, they all pretended to themselves that they were there at the facility voluntarily, but it seemed to me they realized deep down they were never getting out of the place. Would they even flee if given the opportunity?
Winds of Change Page 11
