TWENTY
NAVARRO COUNTY, TX: Saturday October 30, 1999
11:30 AM
Allison’s feelings of being watched intensified when she entered the cafeteria building. It wasn’t just the cameras, which seemed to monitor every inch of the place. It was her peers.
The cafeteria echoed with conversation, but as she passed tables filled with people, the conversations would lower and she would feel eyes burn into the back of her head. It was a waking rehearsal for one of her nightmares. She felt naked and lost, and it took an effort to avoid running back outside.
I am a wreck.
Allison picked up a tray and got in line. While she waited, she tried to order her thoughts. She couldn’t just give up, not while Dad— and especially not while Macy— were still in the hands of the Institute. It didn’t take a genius to see that they were hostages to her good behavior.
It also didn’t take a genius to see that she was being tested right now. She wasn’t under any illusions that she wasn’t under supervision. Every once in a while, out of the corner of her eye, she would catch one of the security cameras explicitly following her.
Just the thought of being constantly watched ignited a fire in her stomach.
I’m only going along with them because I can’t think of what else to do. I’m not giving up. She ran that thought through her mind a dozen times as she loaded her tray with food. The thought didn’t convince. It certainly felt as if she’d given up.
Allison sat down at an empty table because she didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Not here. She also felt a distinct lack of friendly faces out in the crowd of lunch-goers. She had to remind herself that these people weren’t her captors, and were as trapped here as she was.
Despite being surrounded by hundreds of people her own age, Allison felt more deeply alone then she had at any other point in her life.
She ate mechanically, because her body told her to. She stared at the center of her tray as she ate, so she jumped when a male voice asked, “This seat taken?”
Allison bolted upright. The guy stood across the table from her, holding his own tray. He would have stood out even in a normal situation. His hair was so blond it was white, making him look like a teenage Billy Idol. He wore a black motorcycle jacket over a dirty T-shirt that showed a bullet-riddled smiley face.
To look at him, he defined the word “dubious.”
“Suppose the whole table is taken?” Allison said.
He looked up and down the length of the table. His smile never wavered. “Suppose I just warm the seat a little for the tea party?”
“Suppose you bother someone else?”
“Come on, are you going to turn down the only welcome wagon you’re going to get? I may be scruffy looking, but I do represent the voice of dissent in this place.” He spoke with an accent that seemed to come from Boston, a voice oddly out of sync with his appearance. “I promise to vacate as soon as the Mad Hatter shows up.”
Allison sighed and made a slightly uncomfortable nod. When he sat, it brought home the fact that she hadn’t been this close to a boy near her own age since Chuck.
She repressed a shudder.
“Call me Zack, everyone else has to.” He held out a hand. “Welcome behind the looking glass.”
Allison debated letting his hand hang there, but she decided that being rude was pointless. The truth was, she needed all the friends she could get. She shook his hand and noticed he was wearing fingerless gloves. She also saw a tattoo braceleting his wrist. The picture was of thorns biting into the skin, drawing blood. She felt proud of herself for not yanking her hand away.
“You’ve got your references mixed.”
“Hm?” Zack said, taking his hand away.
“The tea party and Mad Hatter are down the rabbit hole, not through the looking glass.”
“So they are. I guess they aren’t going to show.”
A giggle ambushed her and Allison turned it into a cough. “I’m Allison,” she managed to say.
“I know,” Zack said. “We have a rather effective gossip mill here at the Übermensch Club.”
“Übermensch Club?”
“Catchy, huh?”
Allison picked up a cheeseburger that looked like every other warmed-over burger that she’d seen in every other cafeteria she’d ever been in. In between bites she said, “Actually it’s perverse.”
“That’s the point,” Zack said. “Needless to say, the powers that be— both within and without— aren’t amused by the phrase. They can be touchy about terms like ‘master race.’”
“What are you doing here?” Allison asked.
“Same as everyone else. I had the bad sense to choose parents involved in Prometheus’ master plan.”
“No,” Allison set down her burger and looked Zack in the eye. “I’ve just been kidnapped. I’ve just found out my mother’s been killed. I’ve been forcibly separated from my father and best friend. And I’m still recovering from the junk they doped me with. Why are you here talking to me?” She managed to get it all out without her voice cracking.
Zack showed little surprise, though he dispensed with his smile. “Well, for one I’m here because the powers that be expect me to be. I try to fulfill their expectations, otherwise they start to think, never a good idea.” Zack lowered his voice. “I’m sorry about your mom and all that, but don’t go telling your life story to everyone.”
“Why shouldn’t I? After what’s happened I should, should…” She had lowered her voice to Zack’s level and found herself choking on the words.
“I know where you’re coming from, Allison. Some of us have been through as bad or worse. It’s not something the staff likes us to talk about. If they decide you’re disruptive, you can end up locked up in the Ward with the vegetables and the schizoids.”
Allison sighed. “Some dissident you are.”
Zack shrugged. “I’m all this place’s got. They only tolerate me because I’m number two on the food chain after the ice queen.”
“You just lost me.”
Zack shrugged. “Well, you know why you’re here, right? Telepathy, clairvoyance, the whole Weekly World News shtick?”
Allison nodded.
“Without getting into the Institute’s labeling system, just say they value some minds more than others. And when it comes to affecting things outside people’s heads, the field amounts to me, Jessica, and a bunch of dice rollers.” Zack tilted his head to the left, over his shoulder, “You can see her holding court over there, heir apparent to the new world order.”
Allison turned to look. The table Zack indicated sat slightly apart from the others. To add to the emphasis, all the tables at that end of the cafeteria were filled, except the separated table. Only six people sat there. The girl Zack referred to was easy to pick out, an attractive redhead with a gaze as sharp and glittering as a razor blade.
All they need is a flashing neon sign saying, “in crowd.”
Allison wondered what would happen if she tried to sit down at that table. It probably wouldn’t be pleasant.
“Bitch has got half this room cowed ‘cause she’s got Stone’s ear. The other half don’t matter.”
“I see.”
Zack shook his head. “No you don’t, but you will.”
“You don’t sound cowed.”
“I’m number two on the psychokinetic parade, remember?”
Allison had begun to relax a little, but the mention of psychokinesis tightened her up. Zack didn’t seem to notice.
“What does she do?”
“Pyrotic. That’s why I call her the ice queen.”
Zack seemed to wait for a reaction and Allison managed to say, “Uh-huh.” Inside, more than ever, she felt as if the world had gone mad. She couldn’t really be having this conversation.
“You’ll get classes in it, don’t worry. The Institute wants smart little stormtroopers. Just think of it as crippled telekinesis. All she can do is dump heat into something. You know. Random molecu
lar motion, dink, dink, dink.” Zack moved his index fingers as if they were molecules bouncing off the sides of his tray with each “dink.” “She just speeds up the dinking,” he said.
Allison stared at him and he slowly removed his fingers from the tray.
He gave her a weak smile. “Just had a physics exam. I’m still a little punchy.”
“Crippled telekinesis?” Allison said, slowly.
“Am I overdoing the mental BS?” Zack asked. “Sorry, you just got here. I guess you need a few classes before it all makes sense—”
Allison shook her head. “She dinks. What do you do?”
“Hell I’d show you, but they got me on their little pharmaceutical leash. They’re sort of afraid of me pulling my Superman act over the barbed wire— wonder why.”
“Superman—”
“Another example of crippled telekinesis. I can actually move things— or rather, thing.”
Following Zack’s conversation was like watching a film of a Ping-Pong game from which a dozen frames had been removed at random. “Levitation?” she asked, not sure she was interpreting him correctly.
“Technically it’s a higher order than what Jessica can do, but since I’m just limited to moving my own body, I’m second on the hit parade.”
“You can levitate?”
Zack smiled at her. “Well, when I’m not on the Institute’s little yellow pills—”
“How can you do it without puking?”
Zack’s smile left. “Well, ah—”
“When I tried it, I thought I was going to die. It was like jumping off a cliff or something. I didn’t know which way was up and…”
Zack stared at her.
Allison suddenly remembered where she was. She looked around for eavesdroppers. She didn’t see any.
“When you tried it?” Zack whispered.
Allison nodded.
“What do you do?” Zack asked.
Allison hesitated before answering, but she didn’t see any profit in hiding the information. It wasn’t as if the Institute people didn’t know what she could do.
“Move stuff,” Allison said.
“Move stuff? Like what?”
Allison hesitated before saying, “A Jeep Cherokee.”
Zack swallowed. “How far did you push it?”
“Lifted. A foot off the ground.”
Zack leaned back, causing the chains on his jacket to jingle. “Jess is going to freak when she finds out Stone has a new number one girl.”
Allison shook her head, “I’m nobody’s number one girl.”
“Go with the flow, Allison.” Zack rummaged in his pocket. “Come on, where is it?”
“Where is what?”
“CARE package. I’d be some welcome wagon without a gift. Ah, here we are.” Zack pulled a tube of papers out of the inside of his jacket. “Until you get around to requisitioning stuff for your room, you should have some reading matter.”
Zack handed the sheaf to Allison.
“This is more entertaining than the orientation manual, and has just as much bearing on reality.”
Allison looked at what Zack had handed her. It was several issues of The Uncanny X Men.
“Comic books?”
“Life is God’s comic book,” Zack said. “Keep you from being bored.” He picked up his tray and left. Allison stared at the comics for a few minutes before resuming her lunch.
◆◆◆
When Allison returned to her room, she noticed a rec room on her floor. It had a couch, a TV, a Ping Pong table, and a dart board. However, what captured Allison’s attention was the phone on one of the end tables.
She didn’t have any illusions about getting an outside line, but they were keeping her father and Macy somewhere around here. She took a seat on the couch and gathered up the phone. For the moment she was alone in the room— except for the camera that had swung around to watch her. Allison looked up at the camera and thought about the little gray men on the other side.
She felt a throbbing behind her forehead as her teek tried to fight free.
Allison tried not to let it panic her. It’s just a “pharmaceutical leash” like Zack said. They wouldn’t do something to damage her teek when that was what they wanted.
Allison still felt as if her teek had been stolen from her.
She looked down at the phone and picked it up. There wasn’t a dial tone, which didn’t surprise her. However, there was the hollow sound of an open connection.
Now what? I don’t have a phone book.
“Now that I’ve recovered some of my wits, maybe I should talk to my orientation officer.”
Allison rummaged through the orientation packet she still carried. She found a name and extension number for the woman who had welcomed her here. “Extension 0340. Dr. Zendel”
She dialed the number and glanced up at the camera locked on her. Keep staring at me and eventually I might do something interesting.
“Dr. Zendel,” came a female voice over the phone.
“This is Allison Boyle, you told me to call if I needed anything.”
“Yes, what?”
“I need to see my father.”
“Well, I’ll see what I can do for you. But you’ll have to understand that—”
Allison felt a surge of anger flare in her stomach. “I understand that they’re as much prisoners as I am, and the only reason you have to keep us separate is to intimidate me.”
“Please, there’s no reason to use that kind of language.”
“If we’re not prisoners I want a taxi to Dallas, or at least an outside line.”
“Your packet explains the security—”
“Bullshit!” Allison yelled into the phone. Her hands shook. “You tell Mr. Stone or whoever else holds your leash that if they want Allison Boyle to conform to this charade, they’ll have to give me constant reassurance that John Charvat and Macy Washington are unharmed. You got that?”
“Allison—”
“We’re not on a first name basis, Dr. Zendel.”
“—there’s no need to be upset. I can schedule a counseling session for you to help you deal with this anger.”
“You’ll schedule a session with my father.”
“I don’t know if I can…”
“Does Mr. Stone want his new number one telekinetic in a cooperative frame of mind or not?” Bringing that up was a calculated risk. For all she knew Zack had been feeding her a long line of nothing. He didn’t appear to be the soul of veracity. But Allison was furious and barely in control of what she was saying.
But Dr. Zendel didn’t take issue with it. Instead, she said, “I’ll see what I can do, Miss Boyle.”
“You do that,” Allison said, and hung up the phone. She looked up and noticed a young girl, maybe ten years old, peeking around the door to the common room. As soon as Allison caught sight of her, the girl ducked around the door and disappeared down the hall.
Allison looked back to the phone. “Miss Boyle,” she thought, my teek has some pull here even when they’ve drugged it out of my skull.
She looked up at the security camera in the corner of the room and said, “And what are you looking at?”
To her surprise, the camera began panning again.
◆◆◆
It was late in the evening before she picked up Zack’s comic books and began reading them. As she expected, they were garish, violent, and had a continuing story line that she was barely able to follow. She smirked at most of the writing even though she could identify with the “persecuted mutant superman” theme.
She was halfway into the first copy of Uncanny X Men when she noticed the pinholes. The whole page had been perforated. She leafed back and saw that it was true throughout the comic. Every word balloon had been pricked full of holes, and every hole was underneath a specific letter.
Allison scanned a word balloon at random and read only the letters that were pointed out by the tiny holes, “… v e t o u n d e r s t a n d t h…”
&nb
sp; Zack had given her a secret message. Instinctively, she looked up for a camera. If there was one in her room, it was hidden.
She tried to look casual as she flipped back to the first page. The note was filled with misspellings and missing vowels, but after the first few words she didn’t notice that, or the lack of punctuation. She could almost hear Zack’s Boston accent through the pages:
“Congrats, you found the secret code. I like smarts. Here’s the deal—
“Everywhere’s bugged. Don’t talk in buildings. If you need to hide from a camera, use the staff bathroom. There are blind spots in the courtyard but don’t trust them unless you have to.
“Headcount. Out of every ten kids; one head-case is in the Ward; two buy into ASI prep-school gig; three know better but won’t make waves; and the other four narc for the staff or buy into Stone’s new world order.
“Watch the last group. Jess the ice queen runs the lot, and she has Stone’s ear. She’s dangerous as hell. People she don’t like tend to vanish.
“Staff’ll drug you as long as they think you’re a risk. They’ve also got kids that’ll see a mind lighting up. Jess and her storm troopers aren’t drugged.
“If you don’t take their little yellow pills, they’ll shoot you up. Bad choice. Pill’s got fewer side effects.
“You have to understand that Stone’s a raving fruit loop. You know it when you see him. If you meet him, don’t buy the dotty uncle act, he’s capable of anything.
“I am the dissenter here, such as I am. If you just want to get by without rocking the boat, you better not see me again. If you feel otherwise, I’ll be standing under the camera post between the tennis courts tomorrow at noon.
“Ditch the comics before the staff finds them, but don’t be obvious about it. (Toilet’s a no-no, they strain the sewage.)”
Allison put the comics down and suppressed a shudder. There was little there that she hadn’t seen herself, but having her suspicions confirmed didn’t make her feel any better. The references to the “ward” gave her visions of the ASI documentary.
Worse was the implication that these people would continue drugging her. She hated the thought of that. She’d been aware of her teek for less than a week, and it already seemed an essential part of her. The drug cut a ragged hole in her mind that hurt as badly as any of her headaches.
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