My anxiety made me early.
And not in a normal, five to ten minutes early, take your seat and get settled kind. It was the thirty minutes type, where it’s almost embarrassing to sit around for so long and people start looking at you wondering what you’re doing there, the bordering on loitering kind.
To be fair to me, it wasn’t completely my fault. There hadn’t been been a line when I stopped to pick up a quick dinner, and a couple had just vacated a relatively clean table when I was looking for a spot to sit and eat. Not to mention that my scheduled after-hours meeting with the mysterious group Alex belonged to was just across the street from my building at Hubert Industries. It didn’t make sense for me to go home for all of ten minutes to then turn right back around.
My original intention had been to walk around the campus and enjoy the slowly changing leaves that hinted at the barest trace of yellow. I’d failed to arm myself with an umbrella, and when the mist turned into a steady drizzle that threatened to turn into downpour with its rolling thunder and quickly darkening skies, I sought shelter in the old, crumbling building above a doughnut and pizza shop.
The inside was clean and well-maintained, making me wonder what the purpose was to let the outside fa?ade deteriorate to such a degree. Was it camouflage? A stylistic choice? It didn’t coordinate with the polished slate gray floors or the stiff black leatherette couches contrasting with the cool white walls and minimalist gold artwork and decor. But if there was one question I wanted answered tonight, it wasn’t why the building looked this way. No, it was what to call this group that I had dubbed “the group” in my head.
Very unoriginal. I hoped they’d been more creative.
At least there was work to be had while I waited, and I focused intently on the information in front of me while I tried to ignore the receptionist who was probably wondering why I was so early.
Today had been my first day flying mostly solo. I’d met up with Mads this morning and Dee before leaving for the day to check in and out, but the two interviews I conducted were completely on my own. After last week traveling, it was decided by both women that my guided interviews I’d done with them shadowing me, at different times, went perfectly.
And that meant I could ask my questions.
I’d been careful in deciding what questions I’d ask and how I would ask them. The goal was to raise no suspicions while aiming to get the information I needed. Leo had helped me with them, switching out a word here or there to help match the tone of the other questions provided to me so not to stand out. He’d urged me not to put myself out there like that, but I hadn’t listened. Obviously.
The program on my tablet in my lap was running to decipher spoken word into a script that I could review later. Without any headphones with me to listen back on the answers, I’d need to wait until the scripting was finished. There was zero chance I would risk someone overhearing if I played it aloud, even though those chances were next to none.
The one part in both interviews that had stood out to me the most was the nearly identical responses I got when I asked about their support systems.
In short, their answers had both been none.
I’d gone off-script at that point, more so than I had already, and asked if they would ever be open to participating in an online support system through their phones as a way to increase their personal safety and health.
They both had said yes.
After checking to see how much time remained on the scripting program—ten minutes, for both interviews—I decided it was enough time to begin sketching out ideas for an app that would connect others with LaShoul’s and ideally help them receive any assistance needed in the even of an attack. Down the road, I’d want to add in the ability for different forums based on geographic location as a type of virtual support group. It would be text-based, so people could feel free to comment whenever they had the ability. And if people started meeting in person, well, it was another way to expose more people to gamma radiation in the hopes of triggering their own abilities.
I’d done that today with my own gamma, taking a smooth, polished stone with me that easily fit in my palm and sending it back and forth between my hands during both interviews. At some point I would find something better that wouldn’t be so suspicious if seen. Who, besides young children, carried random rocks with them?
In a different app on my tablet, I typed out a list of major requirements for my app, such as the ability to stay anonymous, encryption of some sort that I knew nothing about, invitations codes for family and friends, and a way to alert emergency services. In my head, the app would work as a check-in system; once a day, or however often the user decided, a notification would pop up on the user’s phone, and a code would have to be inputted. Should that not happen within a designated time frame, an alert would go out to family or friends, whoever was listed in the app. If no one was listed, then it would go to emergency services.
That would be the challenging bit, figuring out how it would work with dispatchers to get people the help they needed. I’d probably have to talk to someone who actually worked there, likely a supervisor, and get their input. I might be shot down completely. But that’s where the community came in. If a user wanted, they could have their last location shared with someone else nearby who also used the app, who could check on them.
Barring any locked doors, of course.
It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was a start. I was sure to come up with something. Maybe a one-time digital key? Or people could just knock on the door, see if the person answered, and then call for an ambulance?
Yeah, definitely needed more work.
I was so focused on brainstorming that I didn’t notice anyone approaching until they stood right in front me, shiny black shoes and pressed gray slacks visible beyond my tablet I hunched over protectively. I nearly dropped the thing in shock as I jerked upright, fumbling it for a second and making my heart plummet to my stomach. It was not tech I could afford to replace.
My bio-screen alerted, once. I had to fight my surprise, assuming the man now in front of me just used whatever his ability was. Which would make sense, since this group worked with others with abilities.
“Apologies.” The formal tone was bored and detached as he drew back the hand outstretched to catch my tablet, presumably. “Please, follow me, Miss Navie.”
He pronounced my last name wrong, using a short a sound instead of a long a. Really, it wasn’t that difficult; it was pronounced like navy.
After shoving my tablet into my bag carefully and deciding not to correct him, I stood and followed the tall, bald, slim man out of the reception area and towards the blacked out elevator bank, which I hadn’t noticed when I first entered. It matched the same paint color on that wall almost seamlessly, like they didn’t want people to realize there were elevators there. If that was the case, it was working pretty damn well.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Just as the elevator doors began to shut to take us up to the fifth of ten floors, the other elevator’s occupants walked past. I watched through the narrowing gap between the doors out of curiosity, noting a small brunette woman in casual clothing, an average-height man wearing what looked like scrubs of some sort, and another man talking on the phone with a receding hairline not at all disguised by a comb-over that reminded me of…
Reminded me of no one, because it was him.
Dr. Goodwin. My new boss. Or, boss’s boss. Boss’s boss’s boss? I couldn’t remember, not that it really mattered at the moment.
What was he doing here?
There were a hundred different possibilities. My first thought was to send a message to Alex, asking what he knew. But then again, we’d barely talked in the last several days after my declaration that I was going to take some time to figure out what was going on with our relationship. He’d checked in with me a couple of times over the past four days, plus today, but my responses were dry, answering whatever question he had but not asking my own to continue the conversation.
“…don’t care what she told you, you have your instructions. Fix it, or you know what we stand to…”
The elevator doors shut, cutting off Goodwin’s heated conversation with whoever had been on the other line. He’d always been so pleasant with me that I hadn’t realized he could be so…harsh. Someone had to have really upset him for that type of reaction, if my interactions with him were anything to go by.
While we ascended, I mulled over the different possibilities for seeing Goodwin. He could be directly involved as a leader, sponsor, or even just a member. I thought leader or sponsor the most likely options. The building was right across from Hubert Industries, so it distance-wise it could very easily work.
What I didn’t know was why. Plenty of people chose careers based on events that had happened in their life, people they had met, or any other number of reasons. Did Goodwin have LaShoul’s, or maybe a loved one of his? Is that why he spent so much time working towards a cure, or solution, and had given me so much individual attention when Alex brought me on board?
If that was true, what would be the reason to not also be the one to bring me to this meeting in—I checked the time—four minutes?
There were too many questions and too few answers.
I worried my lip aggressively, trying to push down all the rising emotions. Now wasn’t the time to get worked up about all this. There would be time later to hunt down the answers.
Because something was feeling off. And I didn’t know what my gut was trying to tell me, but it was screaming that something was going on. Or maybe my rushed dinner wasn’t sitting well with me. Or my nerves were rising, knowing that I’d likely have to sign an actual NDA at the beginning of this meeting that I was just going to ignore.
My hands were vibrating slightly when the doors to the elevator opened to a long white hallway lined with a series of black doors with long rectangular windows in each. If I wasn’t careful, my emotion would get the better of me and run amok, and here was decidedly not the place to lose my cool and accidentally teleport or shatter something. I needed to go with the upper hand and keep it as long as possible, which meant not revealing my ability.
The third door on the left was propped open, and as we approached I glanced into each of the other rooms. Small groups of people were working together, but I couldn’t make out what they were looking at with such a short glimpse.
“This way, if you please,” my escort said, standing outside the room and holding his arm out slightly to indicate I should enter. I did so after only a moment’s hesitation; Leo knew exactly where I was should anything happen, and he would be able to trace my bio-screen if push came to shove.
“They will be with you shortly.” Tall man closed the door behind him without ever giving me his name.
I took a seat at the orange-tinted wooden conference table. I twisted side to side in my chair slowly, aware that this room was probably under visual and audio observation. I never took my eyes off the black door I faced, so I noticed as soon as someone stepped up and turned the handle.
He was short, a bit portly, with a full head of hair. His suit was ill-fitting, as though made for a smaller man, the extra fabric at the shoulders making it look rumpled even though it had clearly been ironed. It was a nice suit, ignoring that detail, and had probably fit at one point, years ago, maybe at his wedding. The simple band on his left hand was dull, tarnished, uncared for, and I hoped that he took pride in other aspects of his life. Like his job.
“Good evening, Miss…” He glanced at the tablet in his hand, squinting a bit and holding it close to his face. “Nah-vee?”
“Nay-vee,” I corrected. “Like the color.”
“Ah. Well, Miss Navie, thank you for joining us.” He settled down across from me, sighing as he sat and pulled out a pair of reading glasses. I masked my surprise; I hadn’t seen a pair of those since I was little, maybe around seven years old or so. When eye lenses had been approved and marketed to the masses, eye glasses had all but disappeared overnight. This man was clearly old-fashioned, since insurance would rather cover permanent eye lenses once than breakable frames and glass year after year.
“Will someone else be joining?” I wondered, thinking back on the us he just said. I kept an eye on the door, waiting.
“Oh, no. I mean us as in…” He waved a hand to encompass the building at large. “The entire organization. I’m David. Before we get started, I do want to let you know that our conversation will be recorded.” He tapped a fat finger on the tablet laying flat on the table, giving me a clear view of what he was doing. After only one false start, he had the recording up and running and navigated back to whatever other page he needed. I couldn’t read upside-down, so I sat back in my chair and mentally prepared myself for this to take longer than I originally planned for.
David nodded once to himself and folded his hands on top of the table. “Just to reiterate the form that you electronically signed last week, any information shared with you today is confidential, and vice versa. Your information will not be shared outside the organization, but may be used to further our research. Do you understand? Please give a verbal response.”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Good, good.” He adjusted his glasses and glanced down at the screen and began speaking slowly. “To begin, let me share a little bit about us.”
Oh, shit, he was reading straight from the tablet. I fought to keep my back straight against the chair. It wouldn’t be professional to slump onto the table.
“We are an organization with a mission to help people who find themselves set apart from the general public. We do not actively interfere or in any way accelerate whatever process individuals go through, but our goal is to be aware of those who do and help guide them and give them a place to connect with others.”
“That includes me?” I interrupted, just to be sure.
“Yes, we believe it does. Now, where was I?” He took several moments to find his place, using his finger to follow along with what he was reading, mouthing the words to himself silently.
That would teach me to interrupt again.
“Ah, right here. The organization, on paper, does not exist, which is why you have not heard about us until we reached out to you with the invitation.” Well, that wasn’t true, but I wasn’t going to say a damn word. Not so much to call Alex out for clearly violating some rules, but more so to keep this moving along. “We’ve been alerted that you have been set apart from others. Is this true?”
I hesitated, then asked, “In what way? Like, with my LaShoul’s?”
Slowly, David shook his head. “No. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you if you do not already know. But it would be something that may have happened suddenly, in the last six months most likely, that you have no explanation for, that relates to your LaShoul’s.”
The ball was in my court. I could say I had no idea what he was talking about and walk away, then work by myself doing what I already was to try to help people. Or I could admit my secret and aim to make changes in how they operated. Somehow. At the very least, it could give me more information, or at least open up more opportunities. And wasn’t that why I had agreed in the first place?
I leaned forward, watching my hands as I laced my fingers together. I didn’t trust myself to make eye contact right now. I was a terrible liar, according to Leo. While David might not be able to see it, it wasn’t worth the risk when I could easily play it safe.
From here on out, I’d need to watch my step. Every decision would have to be weighed carefully, looking at the risks and rewards for every choice I could make. I’d need to keep track of everything; what I said to which person and when, any information that I wasn’t supposed to know, and the information that I knew that they didn’t.
I took a breath and hesitatingly admitted, “I’ve developed a new…talent. One I’ve never had before. And ever since then, I’ve felt…better. Stronger. Energized, even. My LaShoul’s has improved, and I have no idea why. Not that I’m complaining, of course. But is that what you mean?”
I raised my gaze to meet David’s, finding a slightly lopsided smile on his face as he nodded.
“Yes, that sounds exactly right. Let’s get started, shall we?” He tapped on the tablet in front of him, and I watched as another set of what looked like questions appeared before him.
I bit back the groan that wanted to escape and slumped in my chair, getting comfortable for a long evening in this room.