Revived (The Lucidites Book 3)

by Sarah Noffke

  “Get in here,” he says, rushing over to me. His arm extends. I expect it to wrap around my waist, wrenching me into him. Instead he holds down the button next to his lab door, sending it shut. The button, which is always highlighted blue, now turns red.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as he paces back over to his main workstation and pins his worried eyes on the table.

  “Locking the door.”

  I didn’t know the doors in the Institute locked.

  “Why?” I ask, cautiously making my way closer to him.

  “Because we need to talk. Uninterrupted.” His eyes look like they’re trying to saw the table in front of him in two.

  “Aiden,” I say at his side.

  He turns and faces me, but his eyes don’t find mine, only stare off to the right. “I can’t…”

  “What?” I lose all the air in my chest suddenly.

  He shakes his head. “I can’t tell Trey about us. Not now.”

  “Why? Because he’s my father?”

  “Yes, because he’s your father. And also because the timing is all wrong.”

  “Aiden, why won’t you look at me?”

  His blue eyes dart to mine, a rare sadness in them. “Roya, this is difficult. Everything has changed. I love you, but––”

  “Nothing has changed,” I interrupt.

  “Yes it has. Before it was a professional issue. Now it’s personal. Trey wasn’t going to like the idea of me dating his greatest asset at the Institute. He’s going to hate the idea of me dating his daughter.”

  “I don’t care what Trey thinks!”

  “I do. He’s my boss!”

  “He’s a freaking liar!”

  “Roya, please stop making this harder.”

  “Me? It’s Trey. He literally, literally ruined my life. Put me in a stranger’s home. Embedded them to raise me. Hid my twin. Hid my identity. Hid his identity. Refused to let me live where I wanted. Forced me to lead deadly missions. And puppeteered how everyone here interacts with me!” I’m screaming now. Waving my hands in the air. I step forward and consider beating my fists against Aiden’s chest. The pain is about to engulf me—take over. Wrapping his arms around me, he pins me into him. My heart is a half skip from unleashing a torrent of tears. I thrash in his tightly grasping arms, until he squeezes me so firmly my heart feels flattened by the pressure.

  “Roya, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispers into my hair.

  My chest convulses with angry tears, but I win the battle, keeping them imprisoned inside me. Surrendering to his embrace, I wiggle an inch back, untucking my arms and sliding them around him. I tilt my chin back until I find his eyes staring down at me fiercely. His breath rolls onto my cheeks. Then suddenly his hands grip my arms, pushing me back away from him. Flustered, he retreats several steps.

  “Aiden, please don’t do this. I need you right now. Don’t run from away this.”

  He shakes his head roughly. “I have to. The timing isn’t right. Maybe in a while things will settle down—in a year or so.”

  “A year?! Are you serious?”

  “Roya, this is serious. I can’t risk it. Not right now.”

  “I thought you wanted this.” I motion between the two of us. “I thought you wanted me.”

  “I do. It’s just––”

  “We deserve to be together.”

  His eyes close for a half beat. When he opens them I’m impaled by his pain. “People don’t always get what they deserve. Things sometimes don’t work out like they’re supposed to.”

  Unable to accept this turn of fate my mind launches into a full search for a solution. “Look, I’m Trey’s daughter. I can go to him, tell him about our relationship. I’ll make sure he doesn’t use it as a reason to fire you or take away your funding or do whatever it is that you’re worried about.”

  “You don’t get it. Trey will go to any length to protect you. My projects have mostly centered on you. I know the other head officials are also charged with guarding and watching you. It’s their job too, to ensure everything necessary is discovered, invented, and innovated in order to secure your development and future. I knew he was slightly obsessed with you, but I always thought it was because you were Zhuang’s challenger. Now I realize the full extent. And I know firsthand that Trey will go to any length to continue to protect you. Even if that means terminating an employee who compromised the integrity of the Institute by getting too close to its greatest asset.”

  “Why do you keep calling me that? Greatest asset?”

  A harsh laugh falls out of his mouth. “Because that’s how Trey refers to you in meetings.”

  “That’s kind of sick.”

  He half shrugs.

  “I can still talk to Trey,” I plead. “I’ll threaten him. Tell him I’ll hate his guts if he punishes you.”

  “You already hate him. And Trey doesn’t care if you like him or not. That’s not his priority.”

  “Right, I get it. My protection is all he cares about.”

  “Roya, I was willing––excited––to expose our relationship yesterday, before all this came out. I thought I could convince Trey that our relationship wouldn’t interfere with my work. But you’re his daughter. I don’t know how to face him with this. It isn’t right. If it doesn’t go well then I have so much I stand to lose.”

  “Well, I’m not keeping secrets anymore.”

  “I know.”

  “Which means…”

  “No matter what, this has to be over anyways. Even in secret I can’t risk it.”

  A wild force sprints forward in my mind. It’s unleashed by my scorned heart, which has recently learned it has new depths it can sink to. “Aiden, you didn’t tell me about Joseph. You embedded my fake family. And you’ve worked on demonic projects. I can get over all that and love you despite the lies and secrets. But what I can’t overlook is that you’re a coward.”

  Chapter Three

  “What we both need is a distraction,” I say as the elevator descends to the fifth level.

  “Cable television works for that kind of thing,” Joseph says.

  “TV rots your brain.”

  “I’m all right with that. I’ll just rely on my dashin’ looks.”

  “I’ve got something we can do which is way better than watching mind-numbing TV,” I say, pausing in front of the Panther room.

  “Is there a zoo in the Institute that I’m unaware of?” Joseph says, reading the sign by the door.

  “Who knows, but through this door is Shuman’s department. No panthers…that I know of.”

  “I thought her spirit animal was a rattlesnake,” Joseph says, scratching his head.

  “It is. I have no idea why it’s named that. Hell, I hardly understand half of what she says.”

  Unexpectedly, the door slides back. Shuman stands staring at us, her amethyst eyes rimmed with annoyance.

  “We were just coming to see you,” I say in a nervous rush.

  “I know,” she says, stepping back and permitting us to enter.

  My eyes take a little while to adjust to the purplish light of the Panther room. It isn’t until we’re standing in front of the conference table that I can see without squinting.

  “The department room is named after a Panther because this animal symbolizes the ability to see the unseen, which is much of what news reporters are expected to do,” Shuman says, as though reciting something from a textbook.

  “Oh, did you hear us in the hallway earlier?” I ask, embarrassment flushing my face red.

  “No,” she says at once. “I sensed the question.”

  Oh, right. That’s not weird.

  “Well, I brought Joseph with me because before you were interested in both of us reporting for you,” I say, watching satisfied surprise fall on Joseph’s face.

  “Far out! Yeah, I’d love to news report,” he says.

  “I did express this interest,” Shuman says, pushing her long, black ponytail off her shoulder like it’s a nuisance. “I bel
ieve that if you, Joseph, pass the news reporting tests and trainings you will be incredibly good.”

  My face screws up in confusion. “Why would he have to go through the qualification and training process? I didn’t have to.”

  “Your situation is quite different than your brother’s. He has been weakened. It is important to determine that he is worthy of the task of news reporting. There is much at stake when you lie down to report and it is unwise to compromise his and the Institute’s safety by putting him in that chair unprepared. I would––”

  “I made a mistake,” Joseph interrupts.

  “That is clear enough.” Shuman focuses on him. “But those problems do not need to become mine. Going through the process that all others have to follow is the best way to confirm this will not be an issue for you again in a different vein.”

  “He’s been beside me through all the missions. He’s proven that he’s worthy of news reporting,” I say.

  “Joseph has also proven that he compromises his own safety and that of others when emotionally charged,” Shuman says in an airy voice.

  “People who make mistakes are in the best position to make better choices,” I say, standing tall, trying to match Shuman’s demeanor. “Just give him a chance. I’ll be working with him. If there’s a hint of a problem then he can go through ‘the process.’”

  Shuman stands stoically considering me and my words. After a quick deliberation she takes a step backwards. “Joseph, you will give your report directly to me when you are done today. Then we will decide if you will new reports or not.” She glances at me. “Roya, give him a tour before you begin.”

  “Yes,” I reply, feeling suddenly jittery with adrenaline.

  She pivots and strides off like a soldier. I turn to Joseph with a suppressed smile of victory. He returns it.

  “I like this idea for distraction, especially ’cause I was worried you were takin’ me to the library to read books,” Joseph says.

  “That would have been a waste of my time. We both know you can’t read.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just go ahead and show me what happens in this voodoo shop.”

  I lead him down the same path I took when I first toured the News Reporting department. Joseph listens, looking eager and also anxious. When we arrive at my familiar reporting station I point to an adjacent, empty chair.

  “So I just lie down and find something to report?” Joseph asks skeptically.

  “Well, you’ve got to focus and meditate, but yes. It’s pretty straightforward. There’s something about the way they’ve constructed the environment here that helps,” I explain, lying back in my own chair. “Clap on those headphones when you’re ready.”

  “That’s it? That’s all of the explanation I get?”

  “It’s way longer than the one I got. Don’t overthink it. You were born for this kind of stuff.”

  He smiles weakly at me. “All right, here goes nothing.”

  For the very first time I have an agenda while news reporting: to find information on Zhuang. Sadly, after a half an hour of meditating and focusing I admit defeat. It’s been impossible in the past for any reporters to find information on Zhuang. I’m not sure why I thought I’d have different luck. However, I did receive a multitude of other stories. Unlike any times before when I’ve reported, I’m given a few flashes of different upcoming events. It must be Joseph’s close proximity that’s heightening my clairvoyance. The flashes include a natural disaster that will strike Indonesia within the hour, tonight’s lottery numbers for the state of Illinois, a plane crash for flight 2347, a terrorist attack planned for two days from now, and a few other stories of national interest. Not only do I receive more than one story, which is unusual, but the timing of the events is hours or days from now––instead of minutes.

  I awake from my vision and charge off to the computer terminal. With gentle keystrokes I detail the various events I witnessed. As usual the information is deemed “unverifiable.”

  Joseph’s sitting at the large oval table in the main quarters of the department room. Shuman sits directly across from him, unblinking as she listens to his report. From my position, ten feet away, I’m unable to hear anything and too nervous to step any closer. After another minute Joseph stands up from the table and leans across it looking fluid and relaxed. He extends a hand to Shuman. She shakes it, but with a reluctant ambivalence.

  “See you tomorrow,” he sings, waving for me to follow as he charges to the exit.

  “Were you able to see anything?” I ask, having trouble keeping up with his excited steps as we head to the elevator.

  “Oh yeah,” he says with a confident smirk. “I saw somethin’ all right.”

  “Is it relevant enough?”

  “I’d say so.” He turns to me, his chest swelling with unmistakable pride. “I just told Shuman how she’s gonna die.”

  Chapter Four

  “Wow! Nice necklace, Stark,” Joseph says, taking the seat next to me in the main hall. He leans in closer, eyeing the ruby beaded necklace that now holds the frequency adjuster.

  “Thanks,” I say, running my fingers over the cool faceted ruby beads. “It’s our birthstone, you know.”

  “I didn’t. Is it from Harvey and Harvey?”

  “Yes, it’s from Bob and Steve. For my birthday.”

  “I remember having a birthday as well. Where’s my gift?”

  I ignore him by turning to George. “The last time I saw them, Bob had a fit because the adjuster was tied around my neck with a piece of twine. He said if I had to wear equipment full-time that it deserved to be displayed with class.”

  A slow smile spreads across George’s face. “It is classy. Makes the adjuster look more like an ancient artifact.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” I say, clasping the adjuster between my fingers and turning to Joseph. “Anyway, if you want some fancy jewelry then go get your own pseudo parents.”

  “Nah, I’m good,” Joseph sings, then gives a sudden laugh. “Hey, you reckon Trey owes our fake families money for back child support or somethin’?”

  “Actually, you want to know what’s weird?” I say, having a host of memories rush to the surface suddenly.

  “Besides your fashion sense? Do tell,” Joseph says.

  I roll my eyes. “Well, every year or so my parents would get unexpected money. It was always for different reasons: an overpayment on the insurance policy, a class action settlement they didn’t remember being a part of, different things like that. They actually began joking over the years about what long-lost aunt was going to die that year, leaving us unexpected money. Guess that was Trey, huh?”

  “Just proves you’ve always been the favored child,” Joseph says with a huff. “I can’t ever remember my fake dad getting money.”

  “Or he hid it from you and spent it on booze,” I say, remembering Joseph’s fake father had problems when it came to drinking.

  “Yeah, that’s probably the truth. Still, I think Pops favors you.”

  “Oh, because he elects me for dangerous missions? More like he wants me dead.”

  “Whatever. Well, I’ve got to go see a guy about a thing,” Joseph says, waving to George and me.

  “Fine, just don’t go resurrecting some zombie, would you?”

  “Ha-ha, Stark. Not funny,” he says over his shoulder.

  “One day, we’ll laugh about this whole Zhuang thing,” I say to George, the only person I’ve confided in about the drama. “Well, we’ll laugh if Zhuang doesn’t kill us first.”

  “On another note, and hopefully less morbid,” he says, sweeping crumbs back closer to his plate, “at your party you said there was something you wanted to talk to me about. Is now a good time?”

  My mind flashes on that moment. Hard to believe, less than forty-eight hours ago I thought I had a future with Aiden. I was going to tell George about it, let him down easy. What was the point now? Aiden and I are history. “It’s not important anymore,” I say, dismissing the idea with a wave
of my hand.

  He eyes me cautiously. “Well, do you want to talk about the Trey situation?”

  “Not really. Thanks though.”

  “You know, I didn’t know my father,” he says, then bites down on the corner of his bottom lip.

  “Really?” I ask, more surprised by the disclosure than the information. George only goes into “sharing mode” when he’s trying, senses he can make up ground with me.

  “My mother is definitely a Middling, so he must be a Dream Traveler,” he says.

  “How do you figure?”

  “Well, the trait has to come from somewhere, like a gene or something. Dream Travelers are a race, right? That’s what Shuman says.”

  “True,” I say, ruminating on the idea. “So what happened to him? Your father?”

  “My mother says he was abusive. She ran away from him when I was a baby in order to protect us.”

  “That’s sad. Were you ever curious about him?” I ask, thinking how the last couple of months my own curiosity regarding my real parents had been trumped by all the deadly missions.

  “All the time for a while, but then I developed my empathesis and experienced the emotions of abusive people. They’re toxic. I’m better off not knowing him.”

  “Maybe your dad is Ren,” I say with a laugh. “He’s verbally abusive and who knows what else he’s capable of. Wouldn’t that be weird if he was your secret father, like Trey is mine?”

  George pretend scowls at me. It’s kind of endearing. “My father was from Chicago, not London. And do I look the least bit like Ren?”

  A sudden chuckle falls out of my mouth. “No, thank God. You’re attractive and Ren looks like a giant leprechaun.”

  “Attractive, huh?”

  “Well, yes.” I blush. “Did you want me to elaborate on that description?”

  He leans in close. “Very much so.”

  Just then from across the room Aiden’s eyes collide with mine. I turn back to George in a rush.

  “Well, the part I like about you most is your brown eyes––they’re subtly intense.” I laugh. “Does that combination even sound possible? Subtly intense?’”