Awoken (The Lucidites Book 1) (18 page)

Clapping his hands, the instructor commands our attention. “Now, let’s start with breaking today. This practice is important because it forces you to focus your thoughts and thereby your energy. Fortunately, many of you were successful with this task during the competition.”

He briefly explains the technique and then asks us to share our experiences. Suddenly I remember Goat Girl saying something in the elevator the day of the competition, right after I completed the kung fu challenge. At the time it really pissed me off because it seemed she had blatantly gotten into my head and stolen my thoughts on how I’d broken my board. I don’t know that she isn’t telepathic, but my instinct tells me that isn’t her gift. I reason the whole thing must be a coincidence, although an infuriating one.

I give Goat Girl a dirty look and then mock her words in the elevator from the day of the competition. “I just pictured that I was a waterfall and my only purpose was to fall and fall. No board can stop a waterfall.”

The instructor nods with a big smile. “Excellent! Roya, that’s a perfect approach! Yes! Let’s all use that idea as we practice breaking boards.”

Taken aback by his endorsement, I stand rigid. I meant my comment to be a jab at Goat Girl. She gives me an evil expression and then stands up and forces her way to the front of the line. The instructor holds the board. I don’t notice her stop to focus or practice. The strange thing is, she walks straight up to the board and as her hand is about to come down on it, but before it makes contact, the board breaks in two.

If the instructor sees this he hides it well. “Fantastic! Next,” he says getting another board ready. The next person lines up.

My mind is all over the place, trying to figure out what’s out of place. There’s something wrong. When it’s my turn I’m completely lost in thought. Just as my fist is about to come down I hear Ren’s voice in my head. It’s from our first conversation. It rings out in my mind like a bell:
There are no coincidences. If you see one, stop and pay attention.
Instantly the pain ripples through my hand and shoots up my arm. The board remains unbroken.

“You’ll need to focus better next time,” Mario says.

No shit.

“Go put ice on that before it swells,” he says, sending me away.

Chapter Twenty-One

I
slump off to the main hall where I know there will be ice cooling the drinks before lunch. My brain hurts worse than my hand as I try to figure out what’s out of place.
What am I missing?
I grab a few pieces of ice, wrap them in a towel, and press it to my hand. Since I’m not planning on going back to training I head for my room.

As I round a corner I hear his voice behind me. “Just the person I was looking for.”

I turn and my eyes meet Aiden’s as he approaches.

“I need you…uhhh…” He hesitates midsentence. His teeth bite down on his lower lip softly. He opens his mouth. No words come out. My hand is numb, no longer throbbing. Aiden’s mouth clenches shut, opens again. “In my lab.” He motions with his head. “I need you for something.”

Whatever awkwardness just transpired is whisked away with a slight smile and a playful look through his glasses. His eyes trail down to my hand encased in ice. “Will you follow me back to my lab? I need to run some tests on you.”

“Sure,” I agree.

On the walk to the elevator I take two strides to equal one of his. His long legs move swiftly as he speaks in his usual, excited manner. I stare down at his frayed jeans and black Converses and smile. I still can’t believe this guy is a scientist. The funny thing is I consider him two separate people. There’s Aiden, the guy who saved my life, makes me laugh, listens to good music. He’s relatable. Touchable. A book in the public library. Then there’s the Head Scientist, the one who speaks during meetings and trainings, and like a ghost surfaces during my talks with Aiden. He’s indistinct. Untouchable. Inaccessible.

“So did you finally unload on Ren?” Aiden gestures at my hand.

I laugh. “I wish. No, I failed to break a board.”

He scrunches his face in a look of pain. “Owwee, that sucks. We’re over here.” He points to a workstation.

Aiden pulls a few instruments out of a drawer and looks at me. He’s all business now. Head Scientist. There isn’t a sly smile present at the corners of his eyes or that antsy movement in his fingertips as he lays instruments out on the surface of the table. “I just need to get some measurements on you for the project I’m working on. It should only take a second and won’t hurt a bit.”

He holds a small box in his hand that contains a screen and a dial. “This is a TriField meter. It measures frequencies.” Aiden flips a switch and a needle toggles back and forth. “I’ve upgraded this device to measure human frequencies, which isn’t something the factory model originally did.” There’s a smile in his voice. “Actually, it was pretty sensitive to begin with, measuring down to 0.2 milligauss. I just tweaked it a little.” Aiden puts the device an inch away from my face and stares at the screen with earnest concentration. “Anyway, I’ll stop boring you with my technical talk.”

“You’re not boring me. I like to hear you talk about this stuff.”
Shit!
Did those words just come out of my mouth?

A slow grin spreads across his face. “Well, most people don’t.”

My insides fidget with nervousness. At any moment the movement’s going to penetrate my skin and Aiden will witness me twitch uncontrollably.

“I’m not like most people,” I say.

He stares directly at me, raising his eyebrow slightly, and then records something on a piece of paper. “So I’ve gathered.”

I hold my breath without regard for the awful shade of burgundy my face is about to turn. That would be better than having a fit of wild tics in front of Dr. Sauvé. I have no idea why he’s making me this nervous.

He pulls out an object that resembles a screwdriver. Taking a long wire, he hooks it into the TriField meter.

“So what’s this project all about?”

The Head Scientist holds the wand-looking-screwdriver-thing up and points it at me horizontally. I flinch. Instantly feeling stupid. He doesn’t appear to notice. His eyes are fixated on the device. Then he swivels his gaze up to meet mine, a look of surprise on his face. Again he glances at the device incredulously. Aiden records another number on a piece of paper.

“Roya, your frequency is different,” he says with a pause and then adds, “than most.”

I frown.

“Curious, really,” he says, holding the wand at a forty-five-degree angle next to my face. Another measurement is recorded.

“Different how?” I ask.

“I took a few base readings for this project. That included roughly fifty samples. They all were pretty close to each other on the scale.” He holds the wand vertically next to my head, then records the number. “Yours isn’t even near anyone’s in the sample.”

“What does that mean?”

“Scientifically speaking, I’m undecided, but entertaining numerous theories.” Aiden turns, putting the devices back in the drawer. He steals a quick glance at me over his shoulder as he organizes the equipment. “Personally speaking, I think it means you’re extraordinary.” His eyes don’t connect with mine again; instead, he holds up one finger. “Stay here for me, for just one more minute, would you?”

“Sure,” I tell his retreating back.

His long strides take him to his main workstation, the one with the TV hanging overhead. Gingerly he picks up the iPod and taps it a couple of times, grinning. The TV screen comes alive with graphics of geometric shapes in bright greens and purples. They’re dancing to the music that’s just begun pouring through the speakers.

The song starts with a constant drum. It hints at a melody that’s about to take shape, like the images dancing across the monitor. One key of a piano and then a nasally male vocalist begins telling his story. Within half a verse I know he’s heartbroken without knowing love. He’s half in love without knowing the girl he’s after. Then just as the guitar joins the mix I’m certain I love this song without knowing where it goes or how it ends. I’m just as easily smitten as the singer. My logical side, which usually guides my way, must be on holiday. I settle into this newfound demeanor just in time for Aiden to stroll back in my direction. The geometric shapes dance wildly across the screen.

“I thought you’d like this song,” he says, pulling up a stool next to me. His knees are less than two inches from mine.

Over and over I run my teeth softly against the curve of my nail, not biting it but pushing it back slightly, threatening to nip it from its place.

“So, tell me, why’d you lose to the board? I thought you could break one,” Aiden says.

I’d forgotten. I forgot about my sore hand, the board, and the reason I hadn’t broken it. My teeth sink deeper into the edge of my nail, still not altering it. “I let Goat Girl get to me?” My eyes widen and I flush as soon as I realize what I’ve said.

A sudden laugh escapes Aiden’s mouth. “Who’s Goat Girl?”

My face is hot as I explain why I call Misty by this nickname. “I know I should have more respect for her, since she’s our challenger. She just gets under my skin.”

He gives me a conspiratorial nod and leans down. “I know what you mean. Between you and me something isn’t adding up about her. She isn’t performing like she did on the competitive tasks.”

“Really?” I ask.

He nods.

I chew on my cheek, debating if I should tell him. His blue eyes compel me to open up. “When I didn’t break the board, it was because something weird had just happened.” I tell Aiden about what Goat Girl said in the elevator during the competition, and then the kung fu training this morning: me mocking her, the instructor endorsing it, and her breaking the board prior to touching it. “I know it sounds crazy. Could it really be some strange coincidence? Ren said there’s no such thing.”

The Head Scientist jerks to an upright position, looking past me as if lost in thought. “No, it can’t be a coincidence, but that’s impossible,” he says in a hush. “She couldn’t have…”

“Couldn’t have what? What are you talking about?” I ask.

Aiden stays focused on the floor, not seeing it. “Hold on,” he says, off in thought. He’s mumbling to himself, counting something on his fingers.

I will his eyes to return to mine, like when he started the song that’s now over. Instead he stays dislodged in some mode of thought, unrelated to him or me or us. His gaze remains distant for a few seconds and when it returns I know the scientist is in control and “Aiden” is gone. The look on his face is cautious as he starts for the door. I’m baffled how he manages to be both professional and teeming with passion at the same time. It drives me absolutely mad. But none of that matters right now.

“I’m sorry,” he stammers, “but there’s something urgent I have to check out. I’ll see you later. Promise.”

Then he’s gone and I’m left completely confused for a multitude of reasons.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“T
hink you’re losing your mighty kung fu touch, Stark,” Joseph says, throwing a punch into my arm.

Goat Girl sits with George at the white coat table, as usual. Trent points at her and says, “Yeah, we think you should ask Misty to give you some pointers on board breaking.”

Everyone laughs except me. I obviously take myself too seriously to find this at all funny. I doubt that will change anytime soon.

“Oh!” Joseph says, suddenly thinking of another joke. “You could be her special sparring partner. I bet she’d take it easy on you, not beat you up too bad.” He roars with laughter and everyone at the table follows suit. I put his hysterics to a halt with a sharp kick under the table.

“Ouch!” Joseph yelps, tears from laughter present in the corner of his eyes. “That hurt!”

“Good.” I roll my eyes and pick at my beet salad.

Aiden materializes at the main doorway, ripping my attention from the current humiliation. He scans the room, obviously looking for someone. I wish it was me, but his eyes never find my eager gaze. He takes a few long strides, whispers something in Trey’s ear, and they both leave at once.

After lunch we train with Shuman in the gymnasium. The lessons have been relocated there to give Trent enough room to move objects. Everyone’s making progress with their abilities, except for me. I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do to improve my skills.

“Everything I see is random,” I tell Shuman when she presses me to concentrate. “I don’t see what the point in trying to do this is. How it’s supposed to help in the dreamscape?”

“You do not think getting glimpses of the future will help us fight Zhuang?” Shuman counters.

It won’t help Goat Girl. The events I see are only seconds before they actually occur and that wouldn’t be enough time to tell her, much less give her time to counter.

“If you put more value in this skill, then it will occur more frequently,” Shuman continues. “It will be reliable. More importantly, it will most likely occur when you need it. As long as you keep dismissing the importance of your ability it will always be erratic. You have the choice.”

She turns and marches off. I sigh and kick the wall. I don’t understand why she’s always on my case about honing my skill. She never makes Joseph work on his. His good looks and charm afford him the pleasure of sitting on the bleachers and reviewing dream interpretation books.

♦

The next day I’m told to go to meeting room 222 after breakfast. This is a welcome surprise since training with Ren is this morning. My entire team is gathered in the stuffy meeting room when I arrive.
Is the Institute trying to save on electricity? Someone turn on the A/C.

Trey is doing a poor job of hiding his anxiety as he shuffles papers. The crease between his eyebrows is more prominent today. Aiden sits next to him looking intently at the table, drumming his pen. He’s in Head Scientist mode. Ren, however, is about as happy as I’ve seen him. Leaning back in his chair he whistles, with his feet resting casually on the table.