Ouroboros- The Complete Series
Page 11
She expected him to be around every corner.
. . . .
But he wasn’t.
First period she had advanced engine design—a core unit that she was most definitely going to fail. After that, she'd attended astrophysics, then maths, and finally more TI theory.
She really expected to see Carson snooping around at some point, but she didn't.
Not once.
Either he was particularly stealthy, or he'd lost all interest in her.
Perhaps he'd gotten the message that she didn't need someone like him looking after her.
Apart from checking for Carson under every seat and behind every door, the day was mostly a blur.
Nida spent her time avoiding her classmates. Their sudden interest in her was unnerving.
They all wanted to know the same thing.
What was wrong with her TI? Had it been fixed? Could other TIs malfunction in the same way?
When cornered, she always muttered the same reply: she didn't know.
Needless to say, everyone found this unsatisfying, and they kept pressing her for more.
So she found herself running away a lot that day.
In fact, by the time she made it home, she was totally and utterly spent.
She had a pounding headache, her chest felt half frozen, and her right hand tingled uncomfortably.
All she wanted to do was head straight to bed.
She didn't get the chance.
She made it in the door when the apartment's computer chimed with a message.
Dreading it was Carson calling to check on her, she slowly made her way up to one of the large holo panels on the wall. After a tight breath, she accepted the message.
Instantly a face popped up on the panel.
It wasn't Carson though.
It was Alicia.
. . . .
Nida had to swallow something that tasted suspiciously like disappointment, then she tried for a smile. “Yeah?”
“I need you to come help me now,” Alicia said dramatically.
Before Nida could worry whether her flat mate was in serious trouble, Alicia took another overwrought breath.
“My other friends have cancelled on me. Left me in the frigging lurch, the bastards,” Alicia spat.
“Ha? What's the problem?” Nida asked, realising she was definitely being roped into something, but she was too tired to do anything about it.
“How are you feeling?” Alicia asked, her eyes darting up and down as she appeared to assess the image of Nida she'd be receiving on whatever panel she was using to make the call.
“Ah, a little like hell,” Nida admitted.
There was a lengthy pause. “How much like hell?
“Where is this going?” Nida asked perceptively.
“Basically, I need a hand. I've been asked to help out with an event for the E Club, and now I’m roping you in too.”
Nida stood there and let her expression reveal all.
She was not going.
The E Club? Was Alicia out of her mind?
Apparently, because she shoved her face right up close to the holo panel. “You’re coming,” she said with supreme finality.
“Alicia, are you nuts? The E Club . . . and me? Yeah, that’s not going to work. I’m going to walk in the door and be dumped right back out on my ass,” Nida crossed her arms sternly.
“They are not that bad,” Alicia pointed out with a huff.
“Not that bad?” Nida questioned after a lengthy pause. “They're snooty elitists. The best of the best at the Academy. The popular, the smart, the beautiful, the strong, and the talented.”
“You’re point?”
“I don’t belong there. No,” Nida corrected quickly with a strong shake of her head, “I don’t want to go there. I have better things to do with my time.”
“Yeah,” Alicia’s voice was strained. “Of course you do. But you’re coming to help. Because not only do I need a hand, I also want to keep an eye on you. I don’t like the idea of you being in that apartment all alone. Something could . . . happen,” she took a step backwards, her whole face coming into view. Her usually confident, if arrogant expression became fractured with worry.
Nida was ready to say there was no way she was coming, but she hadn’t been prepared for that.
Alicia didn’t look as if she were acting.
Still, Nida wasn’t about to abandon reason and voluntarily attend an E Club function. That would be like putting your hand up for several hours of crippling social embarrassment. “Ah, I’d like to help,” she lied, “but I feel terrible. I just need to sleep.”
Alicia appeared to be calculating something. Perhaps she was getting ready for a second assault, or maybe she was pausing to think of an even better excuse to manipulate Nida with. Instead, she sighed. Loudly. “God, you’re right. Of course you are. Never mind. But I’ll call occasionally to check how you’re going.”
. . . .
Really?
Alicia was going to give up just like that?
“Go and get some rest,” Alicia smiled. It wasn’t even a bitter move; she looked genuinely friendly, as if she’d dropped all attempts at manipulation.
“Ah . . . okay,” Nida pushed her fingers into her collar and pulled it away from her skin. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. You need rest. Now go get it. I’ll tell you all about this event when I get home,” Alicia announced happily.
“Right, okay. Have fun,” Nida managed as Alicia signed off, leaving nothing but a black screen.
Nida blinked at it for several seconds, closed her eyes, winked one open, then shrugged her shoulders and moved off.
That had been strange.
Alicia was usually as determined as a pit-bull, but she’d changed her mind with little protestation from Nida.
Muttering to herself as she walked away, Nida paused to stare out at the view briefly.
It was a glorious afternoon, and looked as if it would lead to a light and breezy night.
While everyone else in the city would be out enjoying it, she would be wrapped up in bed.
It was a little disappointing, but only a little.
All Nida had to do to confirm going out was idiotic was to look at her right hand, then over to her left one.
Whilst her right hand had received the injury, it was her left hand that perpetually felt . . . odd.
It just didn't seem right, almost as if it wasn't entirely hers any more.
As she struck upon that thought, she realised it summed up what she was experiencing perfectly: her left hand didn't feel entirely her own. Which begged the question—who or what else did it belong to?
Shivering at that extremely unsettling thought, Nida walked into her bedroom, changed, and settled down on the couch.
Before she knew it, she dozed off.
And, like usual, she dreamt.
This time she wasn't on the planet; she was walking through the halls of the Academy. As she wound her way along, she stretched out her left hand, or rather, it stretched itself out. As it did, blue energy cascaded over it, twisting and writhing as it played over every centimetre of flesh.
She pressed her fingers into the wall, and immediately the blue energy shot into the smooth metal, burning and blistering it.
She kept walking along, humming some kind of tune.
She reached a classroom.
There were people inside.
She kept walking past them, but as she did, the blue electricity shot from her hand, plunging into their chests.
There was a snapping noise. Then screaming. Horrible, continuous screaming.
She couldn't see their faces.
She didn't pause to watch them fall.
She simply moved on.
She kept walking the halls.
Then security came.
They ran towards her, guns levelled.
They screamed at her to stop.
She simply kept walking forward.
She couldn't stop.<
br />
They went to shoot her, but they didn't get the chance. With a swipe of her left hand, every man and woman in the team lifted into the air.
She watched their faces contort in shock.
Then she pointed one finger upwards. As energy crackled over her skin, the floating security team shot upwards. With terrible, resounding cracks, they slammed into the ceiling.
She didn't wait.
She didn't stop.
She kept on walking.
As she moved underneath them, little droplets of blood fell from the ceiling onto her cheeks and hands.
. . . .
She could not stop herself.
No matter what she did.
She kept on walking forward, destroying everything in her path, until the real Nida screamed herself awake.
Chapter 14
Carson Blake
He was at a total loss. He knew where he had to be tonight, but that wasn't where he wanted to be.
He was standing on the lawn between the accommodation buildings, staring up at them glumly.
It didn't take much effort to figure out which window belonged to Nida.
Which was creepy, right? Standing on the lawn and staring up at her room. Yeah, that was kind of stalkerish.
“Come on,” he whispered to himself, “get to the party.”
He tried to coax himself forward. There was an E Club event, and he had to attend. His friends would kill him if he didn't.
The problem was it was all the way on the other side of town. It definitely wasn't in Nida's room.
“Come on,” he begged himself again. But no matter how much he coaxed his body to turn and head to the nearest transport hub, the damn thing wouldn't pay any attention.
She'd outright told him last night not to bother her any more. She, apparently, didn't need anyone checking up on her.
He should respect her wishes.
. . . .
But try as he might, he couldn't. Because, despite her protestations, he didn't believe her.
He couldn't shake the feeling she needed help.
Sometimes his friends accused him of having a hero complex. This was different though. Nida wasn't his duty as an officer of the Academy. And neither did he still feel guilty over failing to prevent the accident in the training centre.
No, none of that explained how he felt.
All he could say was that he had this burning desire to check on her. He knew it didn't make sense—the doctors had cleared her, and so had the technicians—but it didn't matter.
Soon he couldn't stop himself any more., and he angled towards her apartment block.
With every step towards it, he felt more and more guilty. She would likely throw something at his head when he popped up at her door uninvited, but at least he'd be able to confirm she was fine.
Yeah, that's all he had to do. Check to see that she was okay.
With that decision offering him resolve, Carson made it all the way up to her level.
Then he paused outside her door.
It took several painful seconds to muster up the courage to press that intercom button.
Finally, he jammed his thumb against it.
Yet before he could speak, the doors opened and someone barrelled out.
Nida.
She stumbled right into him, and he had to catch her before she fell back. “Whoa,” he managed.
She pulled herself from his arms, locked a hand on the door frame for support, then blinked back her surprise.
Her face was ashen. Her cheeks were slack, and there was a drawn, almost vacant look in her eyes.
“Hey, are you alright?” he'd been about to make a joke about her running into him all the time, but it died on his lips.
She looked haunted. Yes, that was the right word—haunted.
She pushed a hand into her mouth, breathing through the crooked fingers. Slowly she nodded.
“You look terrible,” he told her truthfully.
“I'm . . . ,” she began.
Then she stood there and appeared to make up her mind.
“Nida?” he prompted slowly.
“You need to take me to the med bay,” she managed through a swallow. “I mean, can you please take me to the med bay.”
He didn't pause; he just nodded. “Sure. Come on.”
She walked past him, the door to her apartment closing with a swish. Then she stood there and took a very deep breath.
Her left hand was clutched into a fist. In fact, clutched wasn't the right verb to describe it; crumpled was better. The fingers were closed so tight, it looked as if she caged something in place against her palm.
She caught him looking at it. “I . . . I don't really know what's going on. Just need to go to the med bay,” she mumbled.
“Can you walk? Do you need a transport?”
“No, I can walk,” she managed in a quiet voice, then demonstrated her ability by turning and heading off down the corridor.
Her shoulders were hunched forward, her left hand still clutched into a fist by her side.
He rushed up beside her. “What's going on?”
She didn't answer right away. She simply stared at her feet as she walked.
“Nida?”
“I don't know,” she wouldn't turn to face him.
“Are you sure I shouldn't call a transport?”
“I can walk,” she whispered again.
He fell into step next to her, and soon they made it to the lifts.
There were a few other cadets in the lift, and they all looked at Carson, their surprise evident.
Then, almost as one, their attention shifted to Nida.
She wasn’t looking at anyone. Instead, she stood in the corner of the lift, staring at the wall, her left hand so tightly clutched by her side it seemed as if she would snap her arm.
Carson took a step in front of her, trying to block everyone's view. He cleared his throat properly.
A few cadets tried to ask what was going on, but he blew them off, and quickly marched off with Nida when the lifts arrived at the ground floor.
He desperately wanted to know what was going on with her, but there were too many people around to ask.
Plus . . . he doubted she would tell him.
She appeared to be focusing all her attention on reaching the med bay. Not for the first time, he wondered whether he should call a transport anyway. He didn't though. Instead, he monitored her, ready to step in if she needed him, but content to walk by her side for now.
Soon they reached the hospital. It took up an entire building. It didn't simply house the clinics of the Academy, but the medical research labs too.
Well, as he walked in the front door, he grabbed the first doctor he could see.
Soon Nida was whisked away into a room.
He still had no idea what was wrong with her.
As he stood there in one of the sparsely decorated waiting rooms, his wristwatch beeped with a message.
He glanced at it, noting with a grimace that it was Travis, admonishing him for being late to the E Club Event.
Carson technically could leave the hospital and head straight over, but he had no intention of doing so.
He was going to stand in this room and wait until someone could tell him what was going on with Nida.
Which could be a long time. Heck, it could take all night. But he wasn't leaving. After a moment's pause, he messaged Travis back, inventing some story about work. When Travis called immediately, Carson did not accept the message. Travis would know Carson was lying, but that didn't matter.
He wasn't leaving.
With a tight sigh, Carson finally found a seat and sat down roughly. Locking his arms against his chest, he stared at the clean white walls.
And there he remained.
Chapter 15
Cadet Nida Harper
She hadn't expected to see Carson hovering outside of her door. She'd been glad for his company though.
He'd walked with her, in thankful silence, all
the way to the med bay.
Though he'd asked what was going on, he hadn't pushed when she'd failed to reply.
Now she sat on the edge of the hospital bed, wondering just how much to tell the doctor by her side.
“I'm sure your . . . dreams are simply a result of stress,” the woman tried.
Nida shook her head. “You don't get it. I don't feel right. Something is wrong.”
The doctor tried for a smile, but it was clear she was sick of Nida's stories.
Because that's what people thought they were. Stories.
The doctors thought she was making this up. That she was overacting. That she was a hypochondriac.
But she wasn't.
Something was happening to her.
“You've been seriously injured recently, multiple times,” the woman pointed out slowly and clearly, “you need rest.”
Nida shook her head.
Rest would not help her.
She had to find out what was happening.
Ever since her return from Remus 12, something had been building within her.
The flashes of blue, the dreams, the accidents. They were all connected. But when she'd shared that theory with the doctor, the woman had dismissed it out of hand.
Because it didn't make sense.
Nothing had happened to Nida on Remus 12, and none of the numerous tests done on her revealed anything out of the ordinary.
She was making it up.
She was stressed.
“You just need rest,” the doctor spoke through a heavy, rattling sigh. “Everything will be fine once you give yourself time to calm down.”
Nida didn't reply.
She simply sat there.
She had convinced herself to come to the med bay because it had seemed like the right thing to do. Sitting there and suffering in silence had been stupid. And while Nida was a lot of things, she wasn't dumb.
But the doctors could not help, because to them, nothing was wrong.
“Just go home,” the woman tried to offer a reassuring smile. “Everything will be okay tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Nida managed, realising she couldn't just sit there like a surly teenager.
“I can give you something for the dreams. It'll stop you from experiencing them,” the doctor said as she walked up to Nida and administered something to her neck with a syringe gun.