Stunned (The Lucidites Book 2) (3 page)

Conversely the people in Joseph’s life had great difficulty forgetting him. They apparently thought he’d been in an accident or kidnapped. His paranoid father believed Joseph was hiding on the farm somewhere, waiting to attack when the old man fell into one of his usual drunken stupors. However, the townspeople organized a search party, scouring the fields and forests for weeks trying to track him down. Joseph recounted his findings to me with great pride. I knew how the town felt, because I missed Joseph too.

Now, my fake family, Joseph’s fake father, and all the people who had ever known us before we came to the Institute have been “reprogrammed.” Their memories of us have receded. They’d never remember us in their lives. We are footprints on the shore and the modifier is the ocean, erasing all marks. Trey explained this was for the best, but I hated the idea that the modifier was once again used on Middlings to manipulate their thoughts. Yet I also knew I couldn’t go back to the place I grew up. And I didn’t want to one day see my face on a missing person’s report. I acquiesced to the use of the modifier—but only in this one instance.

Meteors still rain down from the sky when I turn to Bob and Steve. “So how’s business?” I ask in an effort to take my mind off my troubles.

“Well, gold is up, which is always good for us,” Steve says.

“And I’ve managed to find a few new resources,” Bob adds.

“So we won’t starve anytime soon.” Steve chuckles.

I know for certain they deal in rare antiques because it’s fascinating and not because it’s extremely lucrative. It’s one of the things I love most about them—they’re intrinsically motivated. More than that, I love that with Bob and Steve there’s no pressure. They don’t appear to want anything from me. Part of me used to wonder why they were so nice to me—buying my clothes and offering to let me live with them. However, my education in people watching has started to pay off. There are two types of humans in this world: those who function so they can get something and those who function so they can give something. The former are the majority. The latter are Bob and Steve. They’re innately driven by some power of benevolence. Maybe still in their giant hearts they pity me, see me as a charitable pet project, but I don’t really give a damn. If their aim is to fix me then I’ll hand them the tool box. I can’t think of two people I’d trust more with that job. They’re the only Lucidites who have never lied to me.

“What about you, Roya?” Steve asks. “How are you keeping busy?”

“I’m not,” I say and explain how unproductive I’ve been lately.

“Have you considered,” Bob says, not taking his eyes off the sky, “that maybe you should ask Trey to put you on a project? It might help you if you weren’t so idle.”

I shake my head. “Well, I wanted to, but then I wondered why he hadn’t approached me like he did with everyone else,” I say.

“Maybe he thought you’d had enough responsibility for a while and needed a break,” Steve offers.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say, watching the tail of a star trace across the sky. “I don’t even know what I’d do for the Institute.”

“There’s plenty of stuff they could use you for.” Steve pats me on the back.

I close my eyes and make a wish that he’s right.

 

Chapter Three

I
decide to take Bob and Steve’s advice. The only problem is I don’t know how to find Trey. He’s another one I rarely see. Since Flynn’s death, he’s taken over as the Head of the Institute and I think the new stress and responsibility has been more than overwhelming to him. The only time I see him is by accident in the hallway, or the one time when he came to debrief after the fight with Zhuang.

I’d been pretty closed off during that conversation and didn’t get as much out of it as I should have. Trey explained what I’d expect to find at my fake family home. He welcomed me to stay at the Institute as long as I liked. Then he offered to answer any questions. I had a million questions about my life, Dream Travelers, the Lucidites, and the Institute. However, I still resented that Trey had lied to me about Joseph, had the Institute keep this secret from me, and manipulated my life since the beginning. So when Trey gave me a chance to ask him anything, I just stared at the bare conference room wall and said, “Why don’t we have more artwork in the Institute?”

Trey looked disappointed, like I lacked imagination. He said if I needed anything I could always come and find him. The problem now is I don’t know where to look. I know where Ren and Shuman’s offices are, and his isn’t in that vicinity. Most people probably would ask someone for this information. I’m obviously not most people.

My search for Trey takes me to the second level, where the residential corridor and a bunch of meeting rooms are located. There are also a few large classrooms, storage areas, and a door on one long single hallway. It’s unmarked and locked.

I move my search to the third level. More locked doors, the kung fu studios, and offices with people who look annoyed when I happen into their space. Defeated, I turn, ready to abandon my mission. A voice halts me. Not only do I recognize it, but it’s uncharacteristically high. I listen, hiding my presence behind the corner.

“I really enjoyed seeing you last night.” A giggle. “Thanks so much for joining me,” Amber, Aiden’s assistant, says in a voice unlike her usual clinical one.

“Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for the invite,” Aiden says.

What!?

“We should do it again soon, Aiden,” Amber says.

Do what!?

“Actually, should I call you Dr. Livingston now? Since you’ve completed your PhD?” she says in a voice that’s making my skin cringe.

“Aiden is fine,” he says. I imagine he shrugs and blushes.

“Look, I’m glad I ran into you because I’m having a tough time understanding the coding for the upgraded GAD-Cs. Do you think you could run me through it one more time?” Amber sounds like a lost puppy. I loathe dogs.

“Oh, definitely,” Aiden says with his typical enthusiasm. “It really is quite simple, but not until you understand a few principles.”

“Well, I’ve read through your notes, but something isn’t clicking in my head,” Amber says with an exasperated sigh. “I do so much better with one-on-one instruction.”

“Cool, well, why don’t you buzz down to my lab this afternoon? I’ll sort you out.”

“Oh, that would be really wonderful,” she says. I feel like gagging at the oh-so-bright eagerness in her voice.

“K, until then.”

Footsteps retreat to the elevator. Another set patter in the opposite direction. I slide up against the wall and watch Amber’s brown ponytail trot down the hallway to the left. The urge to reach out and yank it courses through me.

Once the door to her office slides closed, I throw my head back until it hits the brushed stainless steel wall. A sharp pain echoes through my body. I welcome it.

Is this really happening? Is Aiden putting the moves on Amber now? How long has it been since we kissed? Not even two weeks.

I throw my head back again, ramming it loudly into the wall. The ache is now dull, but as intended, numbs my emotional frustration. I storm off to the elevator. I’ll go to the fourth level, but no farther. I don’t care if Trey’s office is on the fifth level, that’s where Aiden’s lab is and I’m not setting foot there for as long as I possibly can.

The fourth level’s aquamarine carpet under my feet doesn’t greet me the same way as the treadmill, but it still feels good to run. I jog past doors, not even stopping to inspect them. I’ve completely abandoned my mission now. Each step I take is another one away from Aiden. His games. His secrets. Maybe I should have seen this coming. But I never see anything, it seems, until it’s right in front of me.

Racing around a corner I slam into Shuman. Her amethyst eyes bore into me, irritation heavy in her gaze. A normal person might have been pushed over by my assault, but Shuman doesn’t even waver.

“You all right, Roya?” she asks, flattening her leather vest and staring at me hesitantly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, still startled. “I’m sorry. I just…”

Shuman raises an eyebrow at me. “Are you looking for someone?”

Yes.

“No, I’m just exploring,” I say.

“Hmm,” Shuman says, skepticism loaded in her tone. “Well, since I have you here, I want to ask you a question.”

I straighten. Prepare myself. “Yes?”

Shuman’s hair is tightly pinned in its usual braid. The hairstyle makes her appear young and innocent, which is the opposite impression her demeanor gives off. I wouldn’t say she’s older than thirty, but she has an air of maturity—or maybe it’s entitlement. Whatever it is, Shuman commands a level of respect, which I’ve only threatened once.

“Roya,” she says in an airy voice, “I could use your help in my department. I am not sure if you would be interested, but if you wanted to explore the possibility then I would welcome you.”

“Really? Me?” I ask.

“I can always use the help of a clairvoyant. With practice I think your insights could give us access to significant events in the immediate future. You and your brother together would be an impressive force, but by yourself you are an asset.”

Me as a News Reporter? They’re such an elite group, revered by most Lucidites. They’re also a complete mystery.
Hell, yes, I’m interested.

“Sure, I’ll check out the opportunity,” I say, trying to sound indifferent.

“Good,” Shuman says softly. “My department is on the fifth level in the Panther room. Meet me there tomorrow morning. I will give you a tour, then we will see if you are interested in participating.”

Damn it! The fifth level?
I feign a smile. “Sure, I’ll be there. Thanks.” I turn and head to the elevator.

“Roya,” Shuman says, not having moved.

Turning, I face her.

“Before, when you ran into me, I had the impression you were upset.”

Always the observant one, isn’t she?

“I’m just feeling a little lost,” I say, averting my eyes.

“That is not such a bad place to be,” she says, looking characteristically stoic.

I think about Aiden and how much I want to slap him right now. “Yeah, well, I’d settle for a hundred other
places
right now.”

“I understand that, but also consider that the way to love anything is to realize that it might be
lost
.”

Nodding, I turn back around. I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about. This is so typical of Shuman that I don’t even question it anymore. Hell, the day she starts making sense is when I’ve officially lost my mind. Might be tomorrow.

 


 

For the rest of the day I lie low in the workout facility, listening to music that tugs on my heart like ropes on a sail. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when George shows up.

“Oh, you’re in here? I had no idea,” he says in an unconvincing voice. Slinging a towel over his shoulder, he sets off for the treadmill beside mine.

“Right,” I mouth.

I know my emotions are intense. If they were a three-year-old they would have spattered paint all over the room and thrown a tantrum up and down the hallway. For a moment I consider yanking off the adjuster and having some privacy. I decide that at the current moment I don’t care enough. George and I are so far gone at this point and apparently Aiden and I are too. It really doesn’t matter who knows how I feel right now. Besides, George can pick up on emotions, but he doesn’t always know the reasons behind them.

“I couldn’t help but notice you’ve only run seven miles,” George says, starting up his treadmill. “Slow day?”

I stop my iPod, slow my treadmill, and stare at him with contempt as my feet hit roughly on the conveyer belt. “Yes, it’s been a slow day. I set up a lemonade stand on the first level and hardly anyone came to buy anything. I’m just so upset about my failure,” I say, glancing at my heart rate. 184.

“Sugar,” he says revving up his machine until he’s running.

“What?”

“Did you try putting sugar in your lemonade?” he asks.

“Ha. Nah, I’ll try that next time. I thought people would give me a handout for my efforts and winning smile.” I stop my treadmill and stumble off, my legs wobbly from the sudden stop of motion.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” he says between breaths. “If I knew you were there I would have patronized your stand.”

“Yeah, that’s funny, because you knew I was here and you showed up.” I eye him suspiciously.

“Roya,” George says, slowing his treadmill, “I can feel emotions, but I don’t always know whose they are.”

“You’re going to tell me you don’t recognize
my
emotions when you feel them?” I snap at him, my anger rising to the surface for the first time all week.

George takes his towel and wipes it over his dry brow. He hasn’t run long or hard enough to sweat yet.

“Look,” he finally says, “if you need someone to talk to then I could be that person.”

“Really, George? Because I don’t think you’re the most qualified person for me to disclose myself to. The last time I checked you were on the hunt for information, and if I had my choice then you’d know a whole lot less than you already do.”

He focuses on the adjuster hanging loosely around my neck. His eyes drift up to mine. “You have to give me another chance.”

“Not right now I don’t.”

“How much longer are you going to be mad at me?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Well, will you let me know when you do?”

“Unfortunately, I won’t have to do that. You’ll know,” I say and stride off.

Chapter Four

T
he stainless steel door is cold under my knuckles when I knock. Nervous tension constricts my chest. I eye the hallway, hoping Aiden doesn’t materialize with his glasses and smile. Lucky for me, and probably Aiden too, Shuman answers after a few seconds.

“Follow me,” she says and strides down a hallway.

Good morning to you too.

I follow Shuman through a dark corridor. The walls are lined with wires and ports. I track them the best I can, but they twist away before I can figure out where they lead. Shuman guides me past a main conference room with a table. A few strangers glance up at me with curious expressions.

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