by Sarah Noffke
I hadn’t really thought about that yet. Who exactly did attack Ren? Was it someone connected to Zhuang? Should I be worried about my dream travels? Someone would have told me if I was in danger, right?
Samara glances around. “Something else is worrying me too. It’s Joseph. He’s been acting different. Do you know why? Or what he’s up to?”
His absence hasn’t worried me. It’s been downright irritating. “Beats me,” I say with a huff. “He’s never around anymore. I don’t know what he’s doing. At least I know he’s not working with Shuman. She said that much.”
“Yeah,” Samara says. “And he’s not working with Ren. I already asked Trent.”
“Well, he’s probably doing something with Aiden. The Head Scientist has a way of recruiting people,” I say. I can tell Samara notices the bitterness in my voice but I really don’t care.
I feel a hook slip into my mind and gracefully pull on a thread. It’s brief but I know the sensation well enough to tell Samara has just popped into my brain for a thought. She stares at me guiltily.
“Sorry,” she says, looking down at her hands. “Sometimes my desire is stronger than my will.”
I narrow my eyes but can’t keep the smile off my face. “What’d you get?”
“You’re really pissed off at Aiden for flirting with Amber, working with George on some secret project, and possibly taking your brother away…” she says, a little doubt in her tone.
“Damn.” I sigh. “That’s a lot of information for a little snag, which is what it felt like.”
“Well, in my defense, your thoughts are sitting on the top of your brain right now. You’re still processing them, so they’re in the main stream, which makes for easy picking.”
“Hmmm, I’ll try and process faster.”
“Don’t worry about Amber,” Samara says. “She’s just after Aiden to get a promotion.”
My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me?” I whisper. “How do you know that?”
She winks. “You’re not the only one processing stuff.”
“But still, she’s buttering him up and it sounds like it’s working,” I say with an edge.
Samara doesn’t protest this, just gives a sympathetic shrug. “But I don’t think Joseph is working with Aiden. It doesn’t seem right.”
“Have you seen anything about him in your training?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “I wished I would have. I’m starting to worry about him. I wonder what he’s up to.”
“Yeah, me too,” I finally admit. “He told me I could work with him on this project, but he’s obviously changed his mind.”
“Maybe,” she says. “And what about George?”
“What about him?” I say, scanning the nearby area to ensure he’s not spying.
“Well, I noticed the other day that you two had some tension going on between you.”
“Oh, you mean when you were eavesdropping on our conversation?”
A bemused expression falls on her face.
“Come off it,” I say. “And you had to have noticed I wasn’t wearing the adjuster for a few days.”
She nods. “All right, I might have heard you giving him a hard time the other day. So what’s the deal? Why’d you take off the adjuster?”
“It’s complicated. I might tell you later.” Then I add, “Of my own accord, so stay out of my head, would you?”
She gives a guilty smile. “Sure, since we’re friends and all.”
“Yeah, why don’t you spend more of your time spying on Amber,” I say. “Wait, on second thought, don’t. I don’t want to know what’s going with her and the Head Scientist. Oh, and anything you know about Aiden and me will you please forget and not share with anyone. It’s complicated.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of complicated stuff going on.”
“That’s how I roll.”
A premonition flashes over my vision. Clearly I see Samara in her room, her face expectant. Joseph leans into her and trails feather kisses down her cheek. I clench my eyes shut. It’s weird to see this, and I force myself to maintain composure.
Samara and Joseph? Damn it, when was she or he going to tell me? Not that it’s any of my business, but I’d rather not learn these things through a flash. And I’d really prefer not to see their intimate relations. Gag.
My eyes peel open. “Hey,” I say nonchalantly, “if you see Joseph tonight would you pass a message for me?”
Like a bunny rabbit, Samara wiggles her nose. I’ve learned it’s one of her microexpressions. It means she’s about to lie. “I doubt I will. And I don’t know why I would,” she says too fast.
“Well, if you do, tell him I really miss him and could use his help with something.”
She smiles and pats me on the shoulder. “I’m here to help if you need me.”
“Thanks.”
Chapter Six
The next morning I stare at the door to the Panther room for a solid minute.
Do I knock again? Or can I push the button and walk into the department? Indecision freezes me in place until Aiden’s bright eyes, full of life and lies, come around the corner. Immediately I slap the button. He’s just caught a glimpse of me and holds up his hand to get my attention. I step onto the other side of the door and will it to shut before he catches up to me. The last thing I want to do is talk to him right now. The door closes, and I stare at the other side of it for another minute. I know he’s standing in front of it and wondering why I ran off. Maybe he’ll hit the button and confront me. At that thought I quickly back away and into the news reporting department.
Shuman is hunched over a table in the conference room, looking at a blueprint of some kind. “I was wondering when you would be done with that,” she says as if speaking to the table.
There’s no one else in the room. What does she mean? I’m sure I don’t want to know. Tightly I close my eyes, waiting for the embarrassment to fade.
“I’m here and ready to work,” I finally say evenly.
“Good,” she says without looking at me. “Follow me and I will set you up at a station.”
She leads me to the right. I take in the strangeness all around me as we walk past reclining chairs and their relaxed inhabitants. When we reach the end of a row she stops abruptly and I run into her. She turns, gives me an irritated expression. Not going well so far.
“Here is your station. Lie down when you feel ready. Cover your ears with the headphones and focus. When you gain information then you will rise and report to the closest computer station.” She points to one about six feet away, catty cornered to the chair. “Once you have logged one report then your job is done for the day. If you have any questions come find me.”
Then she’s gone. How’s that the extent of the instructions? News reporters train for months. Shouldn’t I at least get a reference manual or best practices guide? And why only one report a day if, as Shuman admitted, so many events are missed? I stand rigid. What have I gotten myself into? Why am I doing this again? Oh yeah, this is how I’ve chosen to spend my free time until I get back to Bob and Steve’s house. Right. Well, the next time I have an idea I should go back to sleep until I get a better one.
A stream of blue light rains down on the chair. I have to admit that it’s already having a calming effect on me. Lying back in the recliner I nuzzle deeper into the cushion, resting my head comfortably and enjoying the sensation of warmth on my face. Easily I find the headphones resting next to me and clap them on. My head fills with white noise. A tangible comfort streams through my blood, instantly softens my core. The sensation satisfies something primitive inside me. A security I’ve rarely known. It makes it easy to slip into a meditative state and tune into the ethereal.
When the spaces between my breaths is long and slow I focus on my heart chakra. This chakra, also known as Anahata, houses and governs clairvoyance. People often think this power comes from their mind. However, Shuman taught us the mind is the interpreter and that’s why it receives the praise
for the work the heart actually does. It’s through the heart that the vibrations of spirit actually enter, allowing us insights. When we recognize the presence of these vibrations then we take them to the next level of the mind and process what we feel.
Most of this process is automatic, but still I love the words and traditions used to honor this power. I’m more than a body with a mind. I’m an interconnected system. Though, always the question tugs on my mind—what am I connected to? Where does my clairvoyance come from?
After four or five minutes something shimmers to the surface of my consciousness, drawing my attention to it. Like a watercolor painting grows darker as it dries, my vision slowly becomes recognizable. A girl about my age stands in a corner, hate radiating in her dark doll-like eyes. She’s speaking to someone I can’t see. “I vill have it. If he desires it, I vill have it.” Her hostility-coated words scratch at my skin. With absolute certainty I know her voice is the one I heard speaking to Ren in my vision yesterday. Her high-pitched cackle and French accent are distinct. “Ve vill steal it. And zen he vill reward me, vonce and for all.”
The evilness in the girl’s eyes fills me with the urge to fight her, to stamp her out right there in order to rid the world of all the destruction I know she’s capable. Long, black hair drapes around her shoulders. She projects a façade of innocence as she twirls her hair around in a playful manner. However, there’s nothing innocent about her. She’s dangerous.
A loud intrusion. A voice. A male’s. “Les Lucidites sont vous espionne. Ne voyez-vous pas?”
A high-pitched cackle. “Oui. Je fais maintenant,” she says. Her black hair, like a cape, swings around and she casts her evil, dark eyes—on me! “You’re naughty. No more spying for you.” With a vengeful smile, she pulls her hand back and throws a knife directly at me.
I awake with a start, heart pounding with fear. The blue light bathes me in comforting warmth. I’m safe and the French girl is nowhere.
This whole thing is too strange and contrived. I wonder if this is the kind of thing the other news reporters see when they focus. Maybe this isn’t real and just my warped imagination. Regardless, the girl’s words are already seeping from my memory. I shove myself off the chair and start for the computer station. The keys are smooth under my fingertips as I type my report. When I’m done I hit the “submit” button.
The system processes for a minute. I stare blankly at the hourglass on the screen. A window pops up. It reads, “Information unverifiable.”
Chapter Seven
The hallway light is harsh compared to the soft glow in the Panther room. My head swims with images of the evil girl. It rattles my insides with terror, makes my skin cringe. I want to run or shower or do whatever it takes to rid myself of the negativity. This is completely the opposite of how I felt yesterday after having the premonition that saved Ren. Consumed by my thoughts and unanswered questions, I don’t even notice him stalking me until I’m at the elevators.
“Roya, are you seriously going to ignore me again?” Aiden’s voice is full of frustration.
“What?” I swing around and focus on him properly, then avert my gaze to the floor. “Oh, right, what do you want?”
Aiden takes a couple quick strides until he’s right in front of me. He’s seeking my eyes, but I’m focused on the blue carpet under my feet. “Hey, what’s your deal? Are you still mad at me for asking you to wear the adjuster?”
Suddenly I have no problem shaking off the vision I just witnessed. I feel a renewed sense of frustration pulsing through me. My mind flashes on the memory of Amber flirting with Aiden.
“Oh, no,” I say, pulling my eyes to his. “I’ve got new reasons now.” I stare at him without flinching. His dark blue eyes try to read me and decipher what I’m really talking about.
He shakes his head like he’s attempting to ward off some evil spirit. “Well, I’ve been trying to locate you for a while now. You aren’t easy to track down.” He glances at the Panther room. “Are you news reporting?”
I don’t answer.
His expression shifts into one of heedless passion. It sends a warning light off in my head. Caution! my instinct urges. I’m never good when he adorns that look. It obliterates my willpower. Makes me cave in to whatever he asks. “Why have you been avoiding me?” he says, sounding faintly amused.
I stare at him and shake my head, repulsed. Hurt. Disappointed. A long moment passes where he searches my eyes. After a tense minute he finally says, “Look, whatever it is you know about my project, you need to also know that I’m only working under Trey’s orders.”
That doesn’t make any sense. Trey ordered him to flirt with Amber? Why? “What?” I say.
Aiden draws in a step closer. “I can totally explain everything if you give me a chance. And”—he says the word with a brilliant smile—“I have something I’m dying to show you.” He reaches for my hand. I could have pulled away before he grabbed it, but I didn’t. A sensual shock pulses through me when our fingers meet. He gives me a fierce grin. “Come on,” he urges, pulling me down the hallway.
I allow myself to be led to his lab because I do deserve an explanation. My hope is there’s a justified reason for his interaction with Amber. There has to be a chance that I’ve misinterpreted the whole thing. That’s what I want, anyway.
“I need your iPod,” he says as we walk.
“What?” Sincere dread courses through me. Is he going to give it to Amber? Is this the whole ruse? “Are you taking it back?” I say, trying not to sound as injured as I feel.
He laughs. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” His easy laughter opens up the space around me like a light. I wonder if he knows he has that effect on me. I hope not.
“Then why do you want it back?” I ask.
“It’s just so I can update it with more music,” he says, striding in front of me and twirling me around in an impromptu dance. “We have to keep your education in music going, right?”
I’m startled by his casual, romantic nature. It makes me feel I’m the only girl he spins in these hallways, but am I? With a jerk I yank my hand from his. He stops, tilts his head sideways at me, confused disappointment written on his face. Ignoring him, I stride into his lab.
“I’ll be right back,” he says in a promising voice.
I make excuses to myself for why I should be there. These are then followed by a round of insults from another part of me.
You’re weak. A fool. Leave and don’t look back.
I’m about to push forward on the balls of my toes and rush away when Aiden’s voice sings to me from the back of his lab. “I can’t think of anyone I’m more excited to share this new technology with.”
A pocket of air sticks in my throat. I can’t push it out or swallow it. I’m frozen, torn.
A minute later Aiden strides from the back of his lab carrying a large box. Swallowing the uncomfortable feeling in my throat, I focus on the box, on his hands, on anything but his eyes. He pulls a silver helmet from the cardboard box. It’s molded like a head, compact and sleek. “This is my newest invention,” Aiden says, wearing a cunning smile. “It sends a signal to the prefrontal lateral cortex, preventing the wearer from being able to dream travel. In the past it’s been impossible to imprison evildoers like Zhuang because they could always dream travel away, thwarting our attempts at justice. But with this, we can finally capture whoever we need to. It’s called a dream blocker. Pretty neat, huh?”
“Is this what you’ve been working on with George?”
Aiden deflates. “No,” he says promptly. Slowly, as if brought on by a realization, a sly smile spreads across his face. “So you think this is what we’ve been…” He hesitates, head sideways. “Never mind, no, this isn’t it.”
“Wait. What are you talking about? What’s the project you’re working on with George?” I ask, confused.
“I thought you already knew.”
“I don’t.”
“Well then, what are you mad about?” He puts the dream block
er down and looks at me with his arms crossed.
“You first. Tell me what the project is with George.”
“If you don’t know then I can’t be the one to tell you. Trey has been very clear that it’s to remain confidential. I’m sorry.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I mumble.
“Don’t even concern yourself with it. It’s an ancillary project.” His eyes light up again. “So what do you think about the dream blocker?”
My mind is all over the place now. I can’t focus. “Is Joseph working on this ancillary project with you guys?”
“Errrrgh….No,” he says with a frustrated growl. Somehow we’ve gotten miles away from music and romance. “No,” he repeats. “Joseph isn’t involved. But that’s not what we’re talking about. I was asking about the dream blocker. What do you think?”
Confusion muddles my thoughts. It doesn’t make any sense that this project with George is so secretive. And now I’m really wondering what Joseph is up to.
Footsteps interrupt the little bit of focus I have remaining. In unison we turn our heads to the entrance. “Oh, Aiden, where are you, Aiden? Where’s my favorite per—” Amber’s broad smile drops the moment she rounds the corner and sees the two of us standing and looking at her, bewildered. “I didn’t know you had company. My apologies,” she says to me with a nod of her head, her silver earrings gently swaying with the movement. “Good to see you, Roya,” she says.
“Is it?” I say. I’ve never been good at pretenses.
She recoils a bit. Her eyes dart to the dream blocker, then to me and then to Aiden. “Were you showing her the dream blocker?” she asks, a hint of concern in her voice.
“I was,” Aiden says, looking straight at me.
Amber turns to me. “It’s pretty incredible, don’t you think? Aiden is sooooo brilliant.”
I don’t look at her or answer; instead I stay focused on Aiden. He looks like his shoes are suddenly too tight.
“Well, it’s advanced technology, so it may be a bit difficult for non-scientists to understand,” she says, condescension laden in her tone.
