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Shine: Season One (Shine Season Book 1)

Page 8

by William Bernhardt


  “Pardon me, but we only have evidence of one instance in which Aura has implemented her Shine to negative effect.”

  “One incident that we know about. I’m sure more would’ve come to the forefront had she not been using her Shine to cover it up.”

  “Possibly. But I still—I don’t know.”

  “What? You seem to resist the obvious interpretation of the data.” She swiveled back around. “Forgive me, Mark, but I’m going to have to ask. Do you have feelings for this girl?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I am never ridiculous.”

  “I just met Aura. I’m almost ten years older than she is.”

  “Historically, that has not been much of an obstacle to romance. For some people, when emotions come through the front door, reason goes out the back.”

  “Doctor, I can assure you that I will behave in a professional manner.”

  She batted a finger. “Just the same, I wonder if it might not be better if I assigned a different therapist—”

  “That’s not necessary. Let me continue to work with her. I’m still not convinced that her problems rise to the level of a personality disorder. But if there is one, I’ll find it. Or if there is an underlying dissatisfaction or maladjustment, I’ll find that.”

  “Very well.” The sensible approach would be to remove the smitten therapist, of course. But another of the great lessons she had learned over the years—the hard way—was that when a person operated with a vulnerability, they were much easier to manipulate. And nothing on earth made a person more vulnerable than love. “I’ll allow you to continue working with her. For the time being. But I want daily reports.”

  “You’ll have them.”

  “You should employ an accelerated schedule. You should see her every day.”

  “I think that’s a very good idea.’

  “Remember that she witnessed a shocking scene in Santa Monica. There’s no telling what psychic damage may have been done.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “You should have seen the SSSers at that crime scene. The police were barely able to contain them. And if the police can’t maintain control—how long will it be before those extremists stage an attack on this island?”

  “Not any time soon, I hope.”

  “Have you read that bill before Congress? The one they’re calling PA2? If that passes, the government will have carte blanche to do anything they want with Shines, given the slightest excuse.”

  “Let’s hope there isn’t one.”

  “Too late. They’ll use Seattle and Santa Monica. They’ll convene an emergency council the day the bill passes and Shines will have fewer rights than convicted serial killers. I’ve already ramped up our security measures. But there may come a time when nothing we do is enough.”

  “I’ll be on my guard.”

  “Most Shines have the ability to affect one specified sector of the brain, or some other part of the body, which can produce amazing results. Only in a few instances, as with Tank, have those abilities affected the Shine’s physical body. And so far as we know, there is only one Shine in the world who has the power to affect every part of the brain. Every part of the body. And more. One Shine who has the potential to do anything. Which in the eyes of most would make her dangerous. And in the eyes of some would make her a monster.” She peered over steepled fingers. “We can’t afford to let her discover her true potential, Mark. Not ever.”

  16

  H.R. 1672

  One Hundred Twenty-First Congress of the United States

  An Act

  RESOLVED by the Senate and the House of Representatives of the United States of America, two-thirds of each House proposing that an amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America be adopted which shall become law and a full and effective part of the Constitution of the United States when said proposed amendment is ratified by three-fourths of the state legislatures of the fifty states.

  The proposed amendment shall read as follows:

  Section 1: Effective immediately, upon the declaration of the president of the United States that a clear and present danger to the safety of the United States and the peoples therein exists, an Emergency Rehabilitation Council, headed by the director of Homeland Security and consisting of the leaders of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the Central Intelligence Agency, the National Security Agency, and three other members appointed by the president of the United States, shall be convened.

  Section 2: After due and deliberate consideration, if the Emergency Rehabilitation Council deems it wise and necessary, the Council may assume and authorize any and all necessary and plenipotentiary powers for the purpose of ordering institutionalization, incarceration, or treatment, psychological or medical or both, for anyone person or persons exhibiting abilities known as “Shine.” See Appendix A for a detailed biological and physiological description of “Shine.”

  Section 3: These plenipotentiary powers assumed by the Emergency Rehabilitation Council include the power to authorize state and federal agencies to supersede or suspend the First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, and Eighth Amendments to the Constitution, overriding such constitutional authority, with respect to any and all persons officially designated as Shines by the proper authorities.

  Section 4: During any such period of national emergency, all other rights and privileges of the citizens of the Untied States not designated as Shines will remain in full force and effect, but the period of national emergency shall be without term or limitation as applied to those designated as Shines….

  17

  Aura saw the Space Needle crashing toward her. And dead limbless decapitated bodies interspersed with the falling rubble.

  This is not what I meant to happen. Those words rang over and over again in her head. I didn’t want this to happen.

  Another voice came back with startling force and speed. It was him. Again.

  Sometimes one person’s needs outweigh those of civilization itself.

  The bubble at the top of the Needle smashed onto the concrete, knocking her off her feet and rocketing her forward. She scrambled up and hacked her way through the endless sea of mutilated corpses. Some were still alive, though they were dismembered and charred beyond recognition. A dismembered torso crept toward her, pulling itself along with its one remaining hand, its face a half-gone skeleton.

  She spotted a girl about her age standing near the street, back turned to her.

  Come to me, the teenager said, in an eerily calm voice.

  I’m trying. I’m really trying.

  The teenager whirled around. Her face was angry. Her head was shaved. She had a tattoo on the side of her face shaped like an ankh.

  I can’t help you till you’re ready.

  What does that mean? I don’t understand.

  She weaved through the cascading corpses, trying to get to the young woman. But by the time she arrived, the woman was gone.

  “Aura?” A small girl lurched forward, crying out to her.

  “Lara?”

  “Aura?” the girl said again, even though she had no mouth.

  “Yes? Lara?”

  The girl reached toward her. She ran to meet the kid halfway, but she stumbled over a dismembered torso. She lurched forward—

  And the girl’s head flipped forward and flew across the distance between them, pounding her in the chest.

  She screamed. Then ran. She ran so far she wasn’t sure where she was or where she was going. Somehow she made it to the waterfront. She jumped onto a yacht, even though it didn’t belong to her. She ran inside the captain’s cabin and slammed the door behind her. She opened the hatch and climbed down a small ladder, careful to bolt the hatch behind her.

  Then she made the mistake of turning around.

  “Merena?”

  Perfume’s body was splattered across the cabin, head in one corner, legs in another. The walls were drenched with blood.

  Not again!

  The legs tw
itched. The head rose off the floor. The body slowly knitted itself together.

  The mouth moved in a weird disjointed fashion that bore no connection to the words.

  Why didn’t you help me? I begged you to help me!

  Perfume’s mouth opened wider and wider until her entire head was just a mouth, and the mouth was filled with teeth as sharp as razors…

  “Noooooooo!”

  She sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wide as eggs, sweat dripping from her hair.

  Several seconds passed before her head cleared and she stopped breathing like an asthmatic.

  Just a dream, she muttered under her rasping breath. Just a dream. She saved that girl. Lara. She knew she did. She was sure of it. That was just a dream.

  A nightmare.

  She heard Twinge’s voice in the darkness. “Problem sleeping, girl?”

  Did she wake Twinge? Maybe Twinge was having trouble sleeping, too. Several more seconds passed before her breathing calmed enough that she could speak. “Just a weird dream. It happens.”

  “Yeah. Especially around here. We all get them.”

  “You think Shines are more susceptible?”

  “I think knowing there are people out there who desperately want to kill you makes you more susceptible.”

  “Did I say anything in my sleep?”

  “You were muttering. Couldn’t make it out.”

  Good. “Guess I’ll try to go back to sleep.”

  “Want some dopamine?”

  “Uh…what?”

  “Dopamine. The hormone that induces sleepiness. It’s why men fall asleep after sex. And they always do, right?”

  She ignored the question. “You’ve got some of this stuff?”

  Twinge’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “It’s a naturally occurring hormone. I can stimulate increased production in your body.”

  “You can’t Shine here. What if someone’s watching? What if someone tells Coutant? I’ll pass.” She saw the first rays of the sun creeping through the window shades. “Maybe I’ll just get up. Get an early start on the day.”

  “Want me to stimulate some testosterone? You’ll feel more alert. Energetic.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Calm down your stomach enzymes?”

  “Still no.”

  “Help with your morning bowel movement?”

  “Just—don’t help me, okay?” She flung back the covers and jumped out of bed.

  She stopped at the door. She shouldn’t be rude. These girls were already mad at her and they were never going to like her if she kept behaving like a psycho. “Look—”

  “You don’t have to say anything. I know. My Shine is gross.”

  “No, it’s just—”

  “Forget about it, okay? Pretend I never woke. In fact, I didn’t. I’m still asleep. See? Talk to the pillow.” Twinge rolled over and made a fake snoring noise.

  And it’s another day in rehab. Off to the usual sensational start.

  18

  Aura knew she should concentrate on what Mark said, but every time she peered into his ebony eyes, her mind drifted to a very different kind of therapy than what he was talking about.

  “I don’t mind telling you, Aura, I was completely outraged when I heard what they’d done to you. Any off-campus excursions should’ve been cleared through your primary therapist—me. Taking a young woman suffering from PTSD to a disaster site where dozens of people were killed, including a young woman you knew, was inexcusable.”

  “I kinda thought it sucked myself.”

  “I understand that they thought you could help with the investigation—and frankly, I don’t care.”

  “I didn’t want Seattle to happen, and I feel confident Perfume didn’t want Santa Monica. Especially since she died there.”

  “But the fact remains that Shines are somehow causing these disasters, and if we can’t figure out why, fast, the government is going to lock you all up somewhere so you can’t hurt anyone. Are you familiar with the bill currently before Congress?”

  “Aren’t there several?”

  “Yes, but the first in line would give an Emergency Council the right to suspend Shines’ civil rights any time they declare an emergency. Which they could do at any time, for any reason they deem appropriate.”

  “In other words, we wouldn’t have civil rights any more.”

  “Exactly. And that’s why it’s so important that you cooperate with this therapy.” He reached out and took her hand. A shock wave raced through her body. She felt as if she’d been Tasered. “I will do anything to help you, Aura. Anything at all. But you have to understand that you cannot Shine. Not at any time. No matter what the circumstances.”

  “I got it already, okay? Chill.”

  He punched a few buttons on his tablet. “Got an interesting report from Coach Prater. Sorry I didn’t get to it sooner.”

  She felt a sudden aching in the pit of her stomach.

  “Says you won a dodgeball game.”

  “And is that so amazing? I’m not a total dog biscuit, you know.”

  He stared at the tablet. “It was the first time you’d ever played, you were one of the smallest persons on either team, you had the weakest throw…and you won because Tank made an astounding recovery from an apparent twisted ankle.” He laid down his tablet and stared directly at her.

  Damn those eyes, anyway. She couldn’t lie to them—and she didn’t want to. It would be a complete waste of time. “I don’t see anything wrong with helping someone in pain. The gym walls didn’t come tumbling down.”

  “Thank God. But why? Why does it happen sometimes and not others? We don’t know, Aura. And until we do, it’s not safe to use your powers.”

  “I don’t believe a tiny little Shine like that could hurt anyone.”

  “I’m betting Perfume didn’t, either.”

  Silence descended like a blanket.

  He released her hand. “I wouldn’t be saying this if I didn’t care about you. Do you understand that? So let’s plow into this therapy with a positive attitude, and I’m sure that in no time—”

  They heard a knock on his office door. “Aura?”

  “Yes?”

  Joseph poked his head through the doorway. “You have a visitor.”

  “I thought I wasn’t allowed visitors yet.”

  “We’re making an exception.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we feel we have no choice.”

  “Oh. Beverly.”

  “Yes.”

  “Later, Mark.” She pushed herself out of her chair. “Lead me to the slaughter.”

  ***

  For some reason, Aura envisioned being led to a small cubicle where she sat on one side of an acrylic screen and could only talk to her visitor through a telephone receiver. That was not how it worked. Unfortunately.

  Joseph led her to the library, a lovely mahogany room with ceiling-high wall-to-wall books accessed by a golden ladder on wheels. She wondered if she would get in trouble if she jumped on it and slid across the room. She decided not to find out.

  Mnemo was in there reading an enormous thick tome. “Einsteinian physics?” she guessed.

  Mnemo shook her head. “The Count of Monte Cristo.”

  “A novel? Really?”

  Mnemo shrugged. “Sometimes I like to escape. To someplace better. Where things work out the way they’re supposed to and everyone falls in love with the right person.”

  “Mnemo,” Joseph said, “Aura’s going to have a visitor. Would you mind reading in the lounge for a bit?”

  Mnemo slammed her book shut—after carefully marking her place—and left the library.

  Great. Another Shine who hates me.

  “I’ll send your visitor in.”

  Beverly was dressed to the nines, as usual, in a sharp professional business suit that undoubtedly came from Rodeo Drive, where she shopped so frequently the salespeople were on a first-name basis.

  “Hi, Beverly.”

  “Oh my poor
dear, how are you?” The only seating was a red curved burnished loveseat, which meant they had to sit within touching distance of one another. Unfortunately. “Are they treating you all right?”

  “Well, so far no dismemberments.”

  “I’ve heard of people getting messed up in less than an hour. These shrinks will play games with your head if you let them. Screw you up but good.”

  “No one has tried anything like that.” She decided not to mention her session with Dr. Hope.

  “Then—they’re nice to you?”

  “They’re okay.” Beverly did not need to know about Perfume, or the threats from Dr. Coutant.

  “And what about the doctors? They haven’t tried to…to take advantage of you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “You say that like it never happens, but you don’t know. If you’d heard some of the stories I’ve heard in the courtroom, you’d be worried, too.”

  “I am not one of your clients.”

  “Obviously. If you were, I’d have gotten you sprung a long time ago.” Beverly pulled her briefcase onto her lap and popped it open. Beverly never carried a purse. But that extra-large briefcase went with her everywhere. “I’ve drafted some papers. We’ll have to go to federal court. Bring a habeas corpus action.”

  “What if this PA2 bill passes?”

  “I’ll argue that it’s unconstitutional. It completely abridges the civil rights of a certain class of people, a violation of the Equal Protection clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. We’ll have to establish Shines as a protected class, but I think it can be done. Does Congress think it can override the entire Bill of Rights in one fell swoop? If so, they should’ve consulted with me first. Even if those bozos don’t know what the Constitution is, I do.”

  “Beverly, I don’t want you to make a fuss.”

  “Dear, sometimes you don’t know what’s in your own best interest.”

  “Really, Beverly. Please. Don’t.”

  “You’re going to lie down and take this?”

 

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