by Sophie Davis
“Erik, what just happened?” Victoria demanded, golden eyes rounding with alarm.
“She’s safe. I think,” I said hollowly.
“Good. That’s good. Where is she?” Crane asked.
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“She wouldn’t tell you?” Penny asked, surprised.
“No. I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense. I was able to talk to her like we normally do, but half of her words weren’t clear. All I got was that she’s somewhere she feels safe.”
I felt useless. How was I ever going to find Talia if we couldn’t talk mentally?
“But she didn’t say where she is?” Crane insisted.
“No,” I snapped. “I could feel that she felt safe. She said ‘safe’ at some point. But no, I don’t know where she is. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I communicate with her?”
No one had an answer for that.
“Could you tell anything about her surroundings?” Victoria asked.
“She was in a store. A toy store, I think.”
Both Victoria and Crane looked skeptical.
“I know. It sounds crazy. But that’s what I saw,” I said, running my hands through my hair and wanting to rip out the strands at the roots. “There were other people in the shop, too. A young boy was right next to Talia. And two other teenagers were across the store.”
Now even Frederick and Henri were looking at me like I was nuts. Honestly, I didn’t blame them. The story sounded ridiculous, even to me.
For several long moments, no one spoke. There was a lot of exchanging of pointed glances and dubious looks shot in my direction. I didn’t need to read anyone’s minds to appreciate how worried my friends were for my mental state.
“She reached out once, she’ll do it again,” Crane said finally. “Just keep trying to make contact with her.” He turned his attention to his niece. “You too, Penny.” Crane gave me another pointed stare. “In the meantime, Victoria and I have discussed the places we believe Talia would most likely use as her hiding spots. None include a toy store, however.”
“I’m not lying,” I growled.
“No one thinks you are, Erik,” Crane said calmly.
“You guys wanted me to reach out to Talia, which I did. I can’t help that you don’t like what I saw.”
Victoria cleared her throat, and then started up where Crane had left off, as though I hadn’t spoken. “Coalition headquarters in California is one option. She hasn’t arrived there yet, but Ian’s men are on the lookout. The McDonough School is another option. It is currently vacant, which means she could stay there without detection. Another team of Ian’s men is already on their way there. The McDonough School is close to D.C. It’s possible she stopped in the city for some reason. Maybe someone on the street recognized her and she ducked inside the store to hide out.”
The tone of Victoria’s voice suggested that she wasn’t buying her own theory.
“Talia won’t go to either of those places,” I interjected before Victoria could name another long shot locale. The councilwoman raised her eyebrows in question, so I continued. “The school doesn’t hold happy memories for her. If she goes anywhere associated with TOXIC, it will be Elite Headquarters in West Virginia. But I doubt that, too. Doesn’t feel right to me. And Coalition headquarters is in California. It never gets cold enough there for fur.”
“Look, kid,” Miles began, placing a hand on my arm. “I don’t doubt that you believe what you saw was real, but—”
“It. Was. Real,” I snapped.
“Erik’s vision is in line with what I saw earlier,” Frederick interjected. All those suspicious glances that had been directed at me were transferred to Frederick. “Early this morning, I was able to view Talia very briefly. I saw her with a girl in a fur-lined jacket, which does suggest she is somewhere extremely cold.”
“Why is it you failed to mention this before now?” Victoria demanded.
Frederick sighed. “Because I wasn’t sure it was real. It was just like Erik described, with the whole scene feeling very fuzzy, for lack of a better word. Normally, when I view someone, the image is sharp, and I feel as though I am really a part of the picture. This wasn’t like that.”
“Okay, well, the fact that you both made contact with Talia and believe she is somewhere cold is a start. You do know her best, Erik. Do you have any guesses as to where she might be?” Crane asked me.
I glanced around the room at my friends. Henri was still seething over the whole proposition 2690 thing. Frederick was staring at his hands, contemplating whether he should have spoken up sooner. But until I’d confirmed his earlier vision, he truly had believed there was a chance it was some sort of bizarre hallucination.
Brand was staring at Penny forlornly, attempting to implore her to look at him. I didn’t have to read his mind to know that his only interest in Talia’s wellbeing was for his girlfriend’s benefit. Penny was ignoring her other half and using all of her strength to simultaneously view Talia and open up a mental communication channel. It wasn’t working.
Then there was the guy in the suit. What was he even doing in Victoria’s office? He’d yet to voice an opinion on anything.
“I really don’t know where she is now,” I said after the long pause. “But I do think I know where she’ll go next.”
“Where?” Crane asked.
“London?” Penny squeaked, reading the thought from my head.
I glared over at her.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “It just popped out.”
Facing Victoria and Crane, I repeated, “London.”
Crane looked perplexed, apparently unclear as to why Talia would choose a city she wasn’t familiar with. Victoria, however, wore a knowing expression and, if anything, seemed slightly embarrassed that she hadn’t thought of the possibility sooner.
“Of course,” Victoria breathed. “Kenly Baker.” Her eyes narrowed on me in suspicion. “How long have you known Ms. Baker’s whereabouts?”
“Really? You want to have that conversation now?” I deadpanned.
“Wait, Kenly’s in London?” Frederick asked. “Why haven’t our agents found her then?”
“Not important,” I grumbled.
“Actually, it sort of is,” Henri interjected. “If UNITED agents have been searching London for Kenly and haven’t found her, then what chance do we have of finding Talia? And how is Talia going to find Kenly?”
“Kenly is with a group of native Londoners, all of whom have a great deal of practice playing hide-and-go-seek with the Poachers. I’d say they’re pretty good at flying under the radar. Talia will have no problem finding them, because Kenly will tell her exactly where they are,” I said impatiently.
Crane cleared his throat. All eyes in the room turned towards him. “I assume there is another reason you believe Talia will go to London?”
It was Victoria who answered. “To see Erik, of course. Once she learns he will be there for the final peace rally before the vote, Talia will go there to see him. If only from a distance.”
“I suppose that settles it then,” Crane replied. “If we don’t find her soon, London will be it.”
The room fell silent.
Someone coughed. The man in the suit took several steps away from the wall he’d been leaning against. He coughed again.
“Hans Walburton,” Victoria said by way of introduction and gestured towards the man in the suit. “British Intelligence. He also happens to be my younger brother.”
The shock showed on nearly everyone’s face. None of us had ever thought of Victoria having a brother. Personally, I’d always just figured Victoria sort of sprang into being. Even after visiting her family home, the thought of her having parents and a sibling was just weird.
“It is nice to meet all of you.” He spoke in a clipped British accent similar to Victoria’s. “I, of course, already know who each of you are, so introductions are not necessary.” Hans cleared his throat again. “First, let me say that I do be
lieve you, Erikson. I do believe that you saw Natalia just a moment ago. What you are describing, the breaks in transmission, the surreal quality of the vision—it suggests what you saw may have been a memory of Natalia’s. Or, quite possibly, she altered your perception of her surroundings to throw you off.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” I snapped.
Hans held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Not for your benefit, no. But she must be aware that UNITED is using all their resources to locate her. She may not have qualms about disclosing her location to you or Agent Kraft, but she would not want others to be able to accurately view her.”
My brain started to hurt. What Hans was saying made sense, yet I wasn’t even sure Talia would know how to do something so convoluted.
“Another possibility is that Natalia is currently somewhere with an extremely high energy field, like say an island or seaside town. That energy is what is disrupting your communication. If I had to guess, I would say it may be a mix of the last two—a high-energy field combined with an altered perception. I say this because I have just received credible intelligence that Natalia is in Nice, France. The energy in the region is higher than normal.”
Hans’s theory about the energy field did make me feel a little better. At least if there was an explanation as to why my talents weren’t working properly, it meant I wasn’t short-circuiting.
“High enough to cause disturbances?” Crane asked.
“Normally I would say no,” Hans admitted. “But there are several factors that could influence that. There have been an abnormally large number of storms in that region of late. Many have been manmade, caused by a Created Talent. That type of a storm creates huge amounts of energy. It is quite likely that the field surrounding Nice is stronger than usual.”
“Wait. Backup. France? No. Talia wouldn’t go to France. It doesn’t make sense,” I said dismissively.
“Forgive me, but I beg to differ.” Hans glanced down at his communicator and began reading off of the screen. “My source informs me that two young women were seen exiting a private pod dock not two hours ago. Both were dark-haired, one with curls and the other had very straight hair. One, he reports, had green eyes, while the other had purple. Both young women are said to possess abilities.” Looking up, Hans directed his next comment at me. “Nice does have a number of shops. It is very possible that you did see Natalia in a toy store. Possibly it was only her attire that she altered, since the weather in Nice is quite warm currently.”
“What about Frederick’s vision?” I challenged.
Again, Hans held up his hands. “I am afraid I do not have all the answers. I only know what I am being told. That is that Natalia and another young woman are in Nice.” He turned his attention on Victoria. “If I were you, that is where I would start my search.”
The Privileged
Besançon, France
Three Days Before the Vote
Despite Gracia’s many admonishments, the 2P girls couldn’t be quieted on the way back from the auditorium. Everyone wanted to talk about the videos the Dame played for the cadets. The excitement was infectious, and it seemed the more they discussed the nuances of each incident the more the virus thrived.
Though she’d finally met the entirety of her Phase earlier that day, Cressa stuck close to Nydia and the others she’d met in the commons the previous evening. Lyla and Shyla Towers might have been huge gossips, but the twins seemed better informed than just about anyone else Cressa had met at the Institute. For that reason alone, she endured their company.
“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Lyla remarked, nudging Cressa with her elbow. They were among the last cadets waiting near the elevator bank outside the auditorium, having hung back while the cars came, filled, and left again. The twins seemed intent on staying up as far past curfew as possible, which had come and gone while the student body was inside the theater. Gracia was directing the elevator traffic, so Cressa, Nydia, the twins, and Daphne were currently enjoying several minutes of freedom from her constant supervision.
“Aren’t you impressed by the videos?” Lyla pressed. “The Dame has really stepped it up.”
“Of course I am,” Cressa replied quickly. “I mean, who wouldn’t be, right?”
Really, the question is who would be impressed by those senseless acts, Cressa thought. She glanced around, hoping someone would speak up.
“Nydia isn’t. Right, Nydia?” Shyla interjected.
Nydia toyed with the ends of her silver ponytail, a nervous gesture Cressa had noticed her roommate performing every time attention was directed her way.
Nydia stared at the ground, as though the patterned marble was particularly fascinating. “Of course I am,” she said, mirroring Cressa’s response.
Lyla and Shyla rolled their eyes in unison, then both shot Cressa a look that plainly invited her to join in their exasperation. Instead, Cressa decided to take the heat off of her roommate.
“I guess I’m just wondering…why do so many people need to die?” Cressa asked. Four sets of eyes sent her mystified looks. Panicked, Cressa backpedaled. “I understand that eventually there will be a lot of causalities, just like with any war. But I mean right now, before any fighting had actually begun. Doesn’t it seem…I don’t know, excessive?”
“The people dying are norms,” Daphne said, as if that were answer enough. She shook her head, clearly confused by Cressa’s concern.
“Right, but we were all norms before coming to the Institute,” Cressa pointed out. “So are our friends, and our family.” She glanced over at Daphne. “Well, for the most part they are.”
The other girls exchanged uneasy glances, and Cressa immediately regretted giving voice to her concerns.
“Look,” Daphne said, “just think about it like a video game. You need to detach yourself, that’s all. Besides, doing it this way means there will ultimately be fewer casualties.”
Cressa knew she should hold her tongue. But now that she’d started down the path, she wanted to have this conversation. More than anything, she simply couldn’t comprehend their flippant attitudes. The audience’s applause echoed in her ears. Didn’t they know that they were applauding needless deaths?
“How do you figure that there will be fewer deaths?” she asked. “Didn’t you see all those people outside the CN Tower? And on that bridge? We’re talking thousands, and those are just two incidents. We have no clue how many others there have been. And I don’t understand—why blame the Created? If the Dame is hoping to impress the world, shouldn’t she be taking credit?”
To Cressa’s surprise, Nydia was the one who spoke up in reply.
“It’s simple strategy. If the Created are blamed for those killings, then the masses will be less resistant when the Dame introduces the world to the Privileged. UNITED has already proven they cannot control them, so we will be viewed as saviors—the only ones able to stop the Created. The world’s governments will be happy to have us clean up the mess caused by the Created, which will make it much easier for the Privileged to take over.”
“Exactly,” Daphne agreed. “The world’s leaders will practically beg the Dame to send us in. I bet even UNITED will be happy to have our help.” She paused, wrinkling her brow. “Well, they’ll be happy at first, anyway. Once they realize that the Dame means to usurp them, well, things might get a touch messy. But I’m sure even the UNITED council will decide to join the Dame in the end. Sure beats the alternative, right?”
Cressa was about to ask what the ‘alternative’ was, but she never got the chance. The elevator arrived again, with an impatient Gracia onboard.
“Hurry it along. You lot are the last ones, and I have somewhere important to be,” Gracia snapped, waving Cressa and the others forward.
“Where?” Daphne asked.
“You know I cannot tell you,” Gracia snapped with a frown.
“Is it happening tonight?” her sister asked quietly. Gracia nodded tightly, but didn’t say anything.
“I thought
it would be—” Daphne started, but clamped her mouth shut when Gracia shot her a warning glare.
The rest of the ride to the 2P floor was silent, with Gracia seeming uncharacteristically fidgety. Alternating between bouncing on the balls of her feet and crossing and uncrossing her arms, she seemed ill at ease in her own skin.
It seems tonight is the night, Cressa thought, glancing surreptitiously at the older girl. Evidently, the Institute wasn’t wasting any time before performing the facial reorg and whatever body modifications were necessary to make Gracia physically indistinguishable from Natalia Lyons.
Despite the brave face she’d been putting forth, Gracia was obviously not feeling quite so smug any longer. She’d told Sir Tate earlier that she was to undergo the procedures as soon as Dr. Masterson’s schedule allowed, but she probably hadn’t thought it would be so soon. Cressa almost felt bad for Gracia; she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to know you were heading off to be transformed into someone else entirely. Never again would Gracia be herself.
The elevator arrived at the girls’ floor with a ding. When the doors opened, Leslie and Suzu were waiting in the atrium.
“Cadet Beaumont, there you are,” Suzu proclaimed, peering closely at Gracia. “Dr. Masterson and her team are ready for you. Leslie and I are here to escort you to med bay.”
“What about the 2P girls? Who will make sure they get to bed?” Gracia asked, chewing the inside of her cheek anxiously.
Cressa wasn’t fooled by Gracia’s words of concern—they were clearly a stall tactic.
She’s having second thoughts about relinquishing her identity, Cressa thought. She didn’t fault Gracia for having misgivings; it made her human. If anything, Cressa would have found it strange if Gracia wasn’t nervous about the procedures.
And on top of that, the aftermath would be terrifying.
Like most public figures, Natalia Lyons was equally hated and loved by the global population. Except, the hate she received was far more vehement. Impersonating such a controversial girl intrinsically carried an enormous risk—one that might very well cost Gracia her life.
