Ivy

by William Dickstein

  “Uh, hey,” I said.

  “Hi, Ivy,” Hunter replied, putting one hand into a pocket at his waist. He somehow looked even bigger once he was at rest. “We need to talk. Would you like to do that here or somewhere else?”

  I spent half a second in a panic that I’d have something out of place in my room, the same feeling that had filled my head when I was a little girl and someone was coming to inspect my space. Of course, I didn’t spend enough time in my room at the academy to even get it messy, and the bed had automatic sheets.

  “Here is fine,” I replied. I started to take out my key fob to get us into the room, but Hunter turned around and swept his hand across the keycard reader attached to my door handle. It made the familiar click as the lock came undone inside and Hunter pushed the door to my room open. I thought it made the most sense for both of us to sit at the table across from my bed. I still had all of the mission files, but they were stacked neatly to one side, the only part of my room which would have been perceived as slightly out of order. As I sat down, Hunter pulled his chair out wide and sat in front of the door.

  “I see you’re reading some old mission reports,” he said. “Why aren’t you using the digital version?”

  “I like to turn the pages. It helps me to focus.”

  “Some of them look familiar.” Hunter leaned forward, smirking as he read his name. “Any favorites?”

  “Well, I’ve been working through them chronologically. No real favorites, I guess. They’re all interesting. I was planning on reading some more tonight, but I talked with Fibre at dinner, and he made it sound like it might be best to just go to bed.”

  Hunter’s smile fully extended then, and I thought I would be intimidated, but he had a sudden warmness to him that made me very comfortable. “Yeah, Fibre’s experience with Sink was tough. That was good advice he gave you. I wanted to talk to you about Sink as well.”

  “Oh! Uh… Did you spend time with her also? What did she make you do?”

  “Actually, I’m probably one of a handful of Capes who never had the chance to have her look into me at all. Bad luck, I guess. I was in the same graduating class as some very powerful people, and she was pretty deep into working on classifications for headquarters. The day it was going to be my turn, someone else showed up who had a gene at the Supreme level, and my time just never came.”

  “Supreme… you mean Ripsaw?”

  “That’s right. You know, he was the only Tactician who ever had a gene that strong. They named him after the tank.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Unfortunately, no longer with us.” Hunter’s warm smile was quickly replaced with the same, stern face he’d been wearing when he was waiting for me, and every ounce of comfort I had been feeling dissolved back into a puddle of nerves inside of me. I was so on edge that the voices in my head started asking if I needed help.

  Your flight reflex made us worry.

  After a moment, Hunter leaned his elbows onto his knees, the serious look still in his eyes, and said, “I want you to be prepared for your meeting with Sink tomorrow to go differently than you’re hoping it will.”

  “What… what do you mean?”

  “I’ve been spending some time looking into your background, from before you were in early recruitment, and I don’t think Sink is going to be able to help you. Not in the way you want her to, at least.”

  My heart sank and my cheeks flushed. If the way Hunter had looked at me had made me feel like a little girl before, what he’d just said to me was finishing the job. I almost cried, but kept myself steady. “What makes you say that?” I asked.

  “I don’t want to go too far into detail, since there’s no point in bringing up old wounds. I just want you to be ready for the possibility that when you meet with Sink tomorrow, she won’t have the answer you’re looking for.” Hunter got up from his chair and picked up one of the files off the desk. It was the first mission I had planned on reading that night, which detailed the resurgence of a team of Freelancers Hunter had taken out three years before. He flipped open the file and turned the first few pages, scanning for something in the text.

  “Okay...” I started to say, more uncomfortable than ever in the silence.

  “This version is wrong,” he said. “There are details missing.” Hunter looked up at me from the file. “I’ll get you the unedited version after your meeting with Sink.”

  “Well, thanks for coming by, I guess.”

  “One other thing. I know it might seem like I’m not available because I’m not around, but before your time here is done–even after–if there’s anything you think I can help you with, come and see me.” Hunter put the file down and his features softened once again, something that I was starting to find more confusing than anything else, and he gave me a small smirk before turning around and leaving.

  That was so weird, I thought.

  We definitely didn’t think it was normal.

  After my door had closed and I could no longer hear Hunter’s footsteps as he walked away, I got up to turn the light in my room off before pulling my covers down from the top of my bed. It was a warm night, so I didn’t put them on top of me as I settled in. I remember thinking that I should flip the switch to the bedside lamp to do some reading, but I never made it that far. Hilly wasn’t back yet from wherever she had gone after dinner, though I was sure she could find her way to be in the dark.

  Instead of doing much of anything, when my head hit the pillow, still excited to meet with Sink, I fell asleep.

  I woke up the next morning feeling warm, and I had a hoarseness in my throat. I worried that the excitement from the previous evening had made me sick, but the voices were certain I simply needed water.

  And to eat less salt before bed.

  My head ached when I sat up, leading me to believe the voices were wrong about whether or not I had a fever for the first time in years, and I grabbed for one of the water bottles I kept close by. The liquid felt cool even though it had been sitting out in the open, and it ran like velvet over the back of my tongue, my entire head feeling better as I finished the container. I shook the cold from my muscles before turning and stepping out of bed. After my feet hit the floor, I pushed the button on the top of the headboard to ensure that the covers made themselves, and looked over to Hilly’s bed. To my surprise, she had already gotten up. The floor in my room was almost cold under my feet and I stepped quickly to the bathroom to brush my teeth. The tile was much colder than the thin carpet and worked to wake me up the rest of the way as I finished brushing my teeth, shuffling side to side to keep my toes comfortable.

  I had woken up before my alarm, but only by a few minutes. At nearly the exact moment I finished rinsing the toothpaste from my mouth, my alarm on my bedside table began to ring. I had barely shut it off when the door to my room swung open forcefully and three of Fibre’s clones came rushing into the room, but then stopped when they saw me standing near the bed. They had started to yell for me to wake up, and two of them looked surprised to see that I wasn’t still in bed.

  “Good morning?” I said as much as asked.

  One of the clones smiled. “Didn’t think you’d already be awake.” The two bodies wearing the surprised look evaporated in the way they always did, and the other clone took two steps back to grab the handle to the door. “Are you ready to go meet Sink?”

  “I haven’t eaten breakfast, but I think I’m too excited to enjoy it anyway.”

  “Then let’s go.” Fibre’s clone held the door open for me, and we walked quickly to a part of the academy I hadn’t had a reason to go to yet. We passed by a gymnasium-sized space that I was intimately familiar with, with open double doors and wrestling mats for a floor, before turning right to see a similarly sized room that was dimly lit with wooden flooring and two yoga mats laid out. Each mat had foam blocks at one end and a fluffy, folded towel at the other. There were big cushions with flattened surfaces stacked against the far wall, and a gong hanging next to a big elec
tronic clock. I could see little lights that ran along the ceiling, but they were off, leaving the room in a state of almost darkness.

  “Okay,” Fibre said. “You’ll need to wait here until Sink arrives.”

  “Alright. Should I-” And before I could finish my question, the final copy of Fibre evaporated, the flow of air in the building thankfully carrying his bodily mist away from my face. I entered the room and grabbed one of the stacked cushions, then walked it to the open space nearby the yoga mats and away from the light of the hallway. I didn’t have much experience meditating, but my nerves were still jumbled from the night before. I figured if there were time to try and calm down before I met Sink, it was worth a shot.

  Surprisingly, the cushion was comfortable to sit on, even though my feet fell off the sides a bit. I kept my weight from my legs and let my spine at ease as I sat up, draping my forearms over my knees and working to let the tension fall from my shoulders and neck. That was something I had learned taking singing lessons—how to pay attention to when my neck was tense. That second house was actually my favorite of the many I’d spent time in as a ward. Everything was the best there, from the food to the people. The therapy didn’t start doing anything for me until I got to that house, and I began working through the exercises that I was given outside of the sessions. Grief is like that, I guess. Has a way of sticking with you, especially when its coupled with more guilt than you know how to handle.

  My head fell a bit, my chin nearly resting on my chest, and I focused on breathing deeply, counting how long I was inhaling as I filled my lungs and belly and counting again as I let it out. I took ten deep breaths before I heard a shuffling to my right. My eyes flew open and my gaze whipped over to an old woman who appeared worn and aged, but not at all frail. She shuffled one more step forward and crinkled her eyes and cheeks into a kind of smile without much moving her mouth.

  “Keep going,” she said. “You’re doing great.” The woman immediately turned and went to grab two of the pillows, then set them down next to each other. She squeezed and prodded them both after placing them a few feet away from me on the floor, eventually deciding on the left pillow and tossing the other one away. She sat facing me and issued an order. “Let’s try to count to forty-five on the inhale.”

  I had been counting to about twenty. When I reached twenty-three, there was no more space in my body for air to enter. If I could have drawn in any more, I would have, though I felt like I was going to pop from the effort. I ended up holding my breath as I continued to try and bring it in, my throat expanding as I did. The woman had continued to breathe in the entire time, sounding like a snake as she continued to draw air through her pursed lips, and she somehow told me to breathe out for forty-five as well without missing a beat or sounding weird. The air fell out of me quickly and I was left holding my breath again at the end.

  “Three more times,” the woman said. “You’re breathing too fast. Really focus, breathe in slowly and then breathe out even slower. Turn to face the clock. Watch that instead of me.” I did as she said and worked to draw a small amount of air in through my mouth, as she had done, so that I was breathing in for nearly a minute. I managed to get to almost forty seconds pretty quickly on the inhale as well as the exhale, and after a few attempts, the old woman got up to close the door. The room went dark as I breathed out and the lights above us slowly turned on, illuminating the room with a dim, orange glow.

  “One more time,” she ordered. I finished the breath and looked over at her as she moved her pillow across from mine again, once more prodding the cushion and squishing it down. She was close enough then that I could see her clothes were form fitting, but loose, as if they’d been made for her when she was much thicker.

  “Great warmup. Are you ready to get started?”

  “I am, I think.”

  She reached out her hand as if we were only just greeting each other. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ivy,” she said.

  I shook her hand and returned the sentiment. “You as well, Sink.”

  “Okay. For me to do what I do, I need you to do whatever it is that makes your powers do what they do. Understand?”

  “I understand, yes.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “I think so.”

  “Well, just do your best. We’ll go from there.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to relax, reaching out to the voices to see if they had any ideas. I had only ever used my powers twice before–when they’d activated and when an older woman at a park wouldn’t leave me alone after school. Both times, the voices had let me know they would help me.

  We’ve helped you many more times than that.

  Well, those are the only two times I’ve ever seen it. You made that woman cough until she fell to her knees.

  She talked too much. And you had asked her to leave.

  You’re right. But can you do something now for Sink?

  “Alright,” Sink said. “That’s enough.” She got up and turned the lights up some, chasing away almost all of the darkness in the room. As I got up, I noticed that the wall behind me was one big mirror, a detail I had missed in the dark.

  “I know what type of gene you have,” Sink said.

  “Great!” I replied.

  “I can’t help you,” she finished. “But it’s going to be alright.”

  “Do you at least know how my power works?” I asked.

  “You mean you don’t? Did you think you were talking to yourself?”

  And there it was.

  One of the biggest questions in my life had been answered. They weren’t just voices.

  “You mean I’m not?” I walked over and looked Sink square in the eye, pleading as best I could. “Please, Sink. Who am I talking to?”

  “Oh, dear,” she said, her voice soft. “I have no idea.”

  I felt sick, like I’d eaten something that was desperately trying to escape from my body. My hand came to my stomach out of instinct, and I took a deep breath. I wanted to cry, suddenly thinking that Hunter must have known this was how my meeting with Sink would go.

  “Try to relax, Ivy,” Sink said. “I understand if you’re upset, but I think you have the wrong idea. Sit back down, and let’s talk about where you can go from here.”

  The snot was threatening to crash from my sinuses, but I commanded my body to stay firm. My eyes were still free of tears, though my stomach continued to flip. I sat back down as she asked and grit my teeth, continuing to hold myself back from breaking down at the lack of revelation.

  “Here’s what I know,” Sink started. “You’re a Communicator. Most Communicators are capable of talking to animals or machines.”

  “So… is it animals or machines in my head?”

  “I have no idea. Maybe both, maybe neither. Whatever you’re talking to, I can’t see it. Are you sure that you can’t?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Ask the voices if they’re in this room.”

  Well?

  Of course. We are always with you.

  “They are,” I said.

  “Try to focus on where they might be. Does one side of you feel colder than the other? Let your mind relax and your eyes dial in, and tell me what you see.”

  I did as Sink asked, perceiving that my left arm was slightly colder than the right. I tried my best to breathe deeply again, and worked my eyes into focus. After a moment, the opposite happened, and my vision went blurry.

  “Anything?” Sink asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Well, whatever the voices are, whoever they might be, they’re either organic or they’re not.”

  “Great,” I said, dryly. “At least I know they exist, right?”

  We could have told you that.

  “What should I do now?” I asked.

  “The best thing to do is finish your time here at the academy.”

  “That’ll help me figure out what the voices are?”

  “No, but it will help you finish becoming a Cape. Don
’t you want that?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, one thing at a time, Ivy. Sometimes, that’s all you can do.”

  Sink held the door open as I exited the meditation room. She smiled wide and gave me a hug that was somehow gentle but wholly embracing.

  “You’re going to be okay,” she said. “Just do what comes naturally. You’ll figure it out.” And just like that, she walked away. She turned and I could hear her soft steps until she walked through one of the doors leading outside. It was another few minutes before I could be bothered to move.

  Are you going to tell me who you are now?

  We’ve told you before. We are like you.

  Okay. But where are you?

  We are with you. We just said that.

  Whatever.

  We didn’t mean to make you angry. You skipped breakfast, and you’re about to miss lunch. You know how you get when you’re hungry.

  This isn’t… Fine. I think we’ve got a few hours before lunch, though. I basically just woke up.

  I peered back at the clock through the windows on the doors to the meditation room and saw that, somehow, the voices were right. I had been in the room with Sink for hours, even though it seemed to me like it couldn’t have been nearly that long. I had the urge to try and figure it out, but my stomach gurgled and flopped, my body letting me know in no uncertain terms that it was time to eat. I decided not to argue with my body or the voices, and made my way towards the cafeteria. I wanted to eat, and then I wanted to find Hunter. He’d known my meeting with Sink wouldn’t go the way I wanted it to.

  I wondered what else he knew.

  Lunch was mainly boiled carrots and onions. I got there too late to get a good portion of the meat, but I was too busy trying to figure out my emotions to care. I wanted to be… I don’t know… angry at Hunter, and at the world. I wasn’t, though. I had built up my meeting with Sink, for sure, and definitely needed some time to deal with the letdown of it all, but the food in my belly was quickly making my emotions settle. I’d spent ten years having no idea how my powers worked or whether the voices in my head were related. In the course of an afternoon, I’d learned I was a Communicator and that whoever or whatever I was talking to did… something. I guess I hadn’t really learned that much–still more than I knew the day before, though. I wanted to talk to Hunter. He definitely knew more than he had told me the previous night.