Mystics #1: The Seventh Sense (8 page)

Agent Vargas positioned himself behind the part of the cubicle with
the metal wall.

“What exactly are you going to do to me?” she said, her fingers
trembled and she curled them into fists. She fought the urge to look at herself
in the strange mirror again.

“
I’m
not going to do
anything—the
mirror
is,” said Agent
Franken.

Zoey watched as he pressed more buttons on his computer. There was a
sharp
click
and then a loud humming
came from the mirror, as though millions of bees were trapped inside. The
mirror vibrated, and then a light appeared in the middle. It was faint at first
and gradually became brighter until the mirror was completely covered in blue
light. It looked like blue energy.

“So, what’s the mirror going to do to me?” asked Zoey, trying to
sound braver than she felt.

“It’s going to scan your genetic makeup first—your matter—then I’ll convert
it to an energy pattern,” answered Agent Franken.

“Everyone has their own unique pattern, like fingerprints, and the
mirror will always remember yours. The mirror dematerializes your matter—saves
it to memory—and then rematerializes it at a specific target location or
anchor.
Anchors are usually other mirrors
or reflective surfaces. It’s called mirror-port matter transfer, or just M-Mat.
It’s mystic technology at its best, and we’ve been borrowing it for centuries.”

Zoey stared down at herself, “Is it going to hurt?”

“A little, yes.”

Of course it will, what a
stupid question,
thought
Zoey. “So, this is like a teleport device, like in Star Trek and other science-fiction
movies, right?”

Agent Franken shrugged. “It’s a form of teleportation, yes. Now, no
more talking and be still—we don’t want a mirror-port
accident.”

Zoey was afraid to ask but asked
anyway. “What happens when you get a mirror-port accident?” She could easily imagine
something horrible, like her body exploding in a soup of red mess.

“It’s whe
n
a person does not rematerialize correctly, some of their
parts
end up elsewhere.”

“And that’s what happened to Agent Jones, isn’t it?” said Zoey.

Agent Franken pressed his lips together tightly and didn’t answer.

Sweat trickled down Zoey’s forehead. “I’m not sure I want to do this
anymore—”

“All operatives must get scanned. If you don’t move, and stop
talking you should be fine—but I can’t give any guarantees. Now, please, no
more talking. I mean it.” Agent Franken lowered his hood and started to punch
buttons on his computer screen.

“EDDIE?” said Agent Franken through his visor. Zoey understood
ready
.

“No,” she whispered and stood as still as she could.

Through the haze of blue, she could see Agent Vargas in the mirror.
He smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. She strained to stop shaking, but the
mirror terrified her. It was going to hurt.

Just as she was beginning to feel like she might pass out, the
humming from the mirror intensified, and a blue beam blasted from the mirror
and hit her. Stunned, she couldn’t move even if she had wanted to. She couldn’t
even blink.

The blue beam stretched until her entire body was covered in a
semitransparent blue energy. She watched her eyes in her own reflection, which
looked as petrified as she felt.

A sudden coolness washed over her like a cold shower, and her skin
bristled as if millions of insects were running over her. Her eyes burned, and
she wanted to blink, but she couldn’t. Then the coolness became a hot, stinging
pain.

Her body was on fire. She watched as her reflection was pulled and
warped like a gob of pre-chewed gum. She stretched abnormally long, then her
face elongated, deformed, and her eyes bugged out like a fly’s. She tried to
scream, but her mouth was like lead. She couldn’t open it. Her vision went dark,
and she couldn’t breathe—she was going to die. And then all at once, her matter
broke apart—the mirror sucked it in like a vacuum—and everything around her
disappeared.

Z
oey opened her eyes. She was standing
on the exact same spot, as though nothing had just happened—as though she had
not just been eaten by a giant freaky mirror. The mirror looked as it did
before, but without the traces of the blue light energy around it. It was still
humming, but it was dimmed and looked almost peaceful. She checked herself out
in the mirror, and her reflection moved with that same eerie one-second time
delay. She moved her arms, feet, and wiggled her fingers—all still functional.
It appeared that there had been no mirror-port accident. She hoped there hadn’t.

“Can I move now?” she asked, feeling a little dizzy.

Agent Franken removed his hood. “Yes, you can move away from the
M-Mat if you want.”

Zoey turned away from the mirror and walked over to the cubicle
faster than she had anticipated.

“Did it work? I mean, did the mirror-port work properly on me? Is
all my matter intact? There are no pieces of me somewhere in Africa?”

She checked herself again. She looked normal enough.

“More or less,” answered Agent Franken, matter-of-factly.

Zoey couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “What? What does that
mean?”

Agent Franken ignored her. “Off you go now. I’m a very busy man. I’ve
got many pressing
matters
to attend
to.” He giggled at his own joke and began typing on his computer, one finger at
a time.

Before Zoey could ask more questions, Agent Vargas swung a duffel
bag over his shoulders and steered her away from the cubicle.

“You did just fine, Zoey,” said Agent Vargas. “It takes lots of
courage to face the M-Mat the first time, and you did well. Now, we need to get
a move on. Your fellow operatives are waiting for us in the main hall,” he said
and pointed to her pocket. “Earplugs in.”

Zoey complied and twisted her earplugs back in. She and Agent Vargas
crossed the room through a variety of explosions and blasts and made for the
exit.

All the students were waiting for them, including Tristan and Simon.

Tristan ran up to her with half a smile, and Zoey felt her face go
red. She still couldn’t believe she had asked him so bluntly about having a
girlfriend.

“So…how did it go? Not too painful I hope?” he asked, his smile
widening. His dark eyes searched her. She looked away quickly and pulled out
the earplugs.

“It hurt a little, and for a moment I thought I was going to die,”
she said. “But it was more like weird than painful. It was the weirdest thing I’ve
ever experienced.”

“If you thought that was weird, it’s going to get a whole lot weirder
now,” said Simon as he joined them. He stood chewing a mouthful of gum with his
hands in his pockets.

Zoey frowned at them both. “What do you mean?” She didn’t want to
have to go through another M-Mat again; one time was enough, at least for the
day.

Simon opened his mouth to answer, but he was cut short by Agent
Vargas.

“All right people,” the agent’s voice boomed through the hall. “Into
positions—you know the drill. Hurry up, hurry up, you can do better than this.”

The students scurried and formed a line in front of a large golden
mirror. A flashing neon sign above the mirror read
Australia. A small computerized panel to the right of the mirror looked
like an alarm control.

Following the example of the other operatives, Zoey stood last in
line behind Simon and Tristan. She tried to act like this was totally normal
for her, too, even though she had no idea what was happening. She eyed the
golden mirror suspiciously, a feeling of dread growing in the pit of her
stomach. She knew she could never look at a mirror the same way
ever
again—not after her mirror-port
experience.

Agent Vargas checked his watch. “Five seconds too long. Marks will
be deducted, ladies and gents.” The disappointed students groaned.

He strolled along the line of students, observing them intensely, and
then he stopped beside Zoey. “Here…this is your DSM.”

He handed her a round metal compact. She immediately recognized that
it was the same type of compact she had seen Agent Lee and Tristan use before
they disappeared.

She took it carefully and inspected it. Its silver edges gleamed in the
light. It had the same ring dial with the engraved numbers on the surface, and
a needle pivoting above a map. It was surprisingly light and felt cool against
her palm.

“It’s like a compass,” she said.

Agent Vargas smiled. “In a way yes, it is very much like a compass, but
better. The DSM, or double-sided mirror, is like a smaller portable version of
the M-Mat. Operatives and agents use them for transport. It reflects your
true
self on one side, and your
final
destination on the other. It uses the
mirror-port’s energy pattern, and your own fingerprint, to mirror you to and
from the hive. It takes years to make one DSM. They are very valuable so don’t
lose it.”

Zoey clasped her DSM tightly. “I won’t.”

She saw Stuart turn around at the head of the line and give her an
evil grin, like he was planning something. She glowered back at him. She
pocketed her DSM securely, in case he tried to steal it. Maybe he would give
her a reason to smack that smile off his face…

“Good,” said Agent Vargas with a contended smile.

“Each major city around the world has mirror-port anchors, which are
just like area codes. Just as Agent Franken explained, mirror port anchors can
be any reflective surface—a glass window, a lake, a pond, or just another
mirror—any reflective object in a fixed location can be prearranged to be an anchor
point.”

He raised his arms and pointed to the wall of mirrors. “Each mirror
here in the main hall is a port to a country around the world. Within these
countries you’ll find their major cities. If we need to mirror-port to a small
town or to a new location, then the hive in the nearest location will conjure
up a new or temporary anchor for the job. You following me so far?”

“Yes.” Zoey was aware that everyone’s eyes were on her. She nodded
her head, even though some of the information was still a little cloudy.

“Please remember,” Agent Vargas raised his voice, “—and this goes
for all of you—be as
still
as you can
when you use your DSM. Movement can cause you to mirror-port to an all-together
different
location. More importantly,
be careful not to
mix
your image in
the DSM with reflections from other
normal
mirrors. That can be catastrophic. This is not a toy. Use it responsibly.”

He walked over to the golden mirror and typed something into the
small side panel. There was a loud buzzing. Then a green light above the mirror
lit up, and Zoey heard a click. Agent Vargas stepped away. “Let’s go, operatives—we
have a job to do.”

One by one the operatives stepped into the mirror and disappeared. The
green light flashed each time, as though it was giving them the okay to pass. Agent
Vargas had positioned himself near the front of the line and said, “GO! GO!
GO!” as each operative next in line came to the front.

Zoey watched Stuart step easily into the mirror. He didn’t even
flinch, and for some reason it made her angry. When it came to Tristan’s turn,
he turned around and said to Zoey, “See you on the other side.” And with that,
he walked into the mirror. It rippled for a moment and then swallowed him
whole.

When it came to her turn, she halted in front of the mirror. She was
still frightened. She forced herself to look at her reflection. Her movements
were seconds off, just as they had been in the great mirror in room 1B. She was
still not comfortable with the eerie time lag. She could feel Agent Vargas’s
eyes on her. The other operatives had all stepped through like it was nothing.
She couldn’t back down now.

Bracing herself, she closed her eyes, lifted her right foot, and
stepped into the mirror.

Immediately, she felt her body was being pulled every which way like
an elastic band. Then her feet left the ground, and she was floating. She
twisted horizontally and vertically. Air flapped against her face. She smelled
the ocean, then wet earth and hay. She strained to keep her eyes shut—she
didn’t dare open them, for fear of being sick.

And then as fast as it had started, it stopped. Her feet touched
solid ground again. Her heart beat widely in her ears. Did someone call her
name?

She opened her eyes. The world around her was spinning. She
recognized Tristan’s face. His lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear him. Her
ears rung as though an explosion had gone off inside her head. Her surroundings
spun faster and faster. Her stomach twisted—she was going to be sick. She
couldn’t be sick in front of Tristan. She turned around quickly, took a few
steps, and puked.

As she was hunched over, a pair of black shiny boots appeared next
to her.

“Here, rinse your mouth with this,” said Agent Vargas. “And don’t
worry, everyone’s sick the first time, even the best of agents—even me.”

He was smiling and holding out a bottle of water. She was horrified
that everyone had seen her be sick, but she felt much better. A cold sweat
trickled down her back, and she gladly rinsed her mouth.

They stood in an open field. The low moon cast gray light over everything,
and a cool breeze refreshed her. Tall power lines like giant metal T’s were arranged
neatly in a single row that spread out for miles on either side of a great
valley and melted into the darkness. She could hear pops and zaps in the
distance as a sequence of miniature blue lightning bolts from the top of one of
the power lines illuminated the night sky. Then they stopped, and the sky was absolutely
dark.

A lopsided old barn stood open under the shadows of the power lines.
Its doors lay on the ground in rotten wood planks. Half the roof had caved in.
All the windows were smashed, except for one, which glinted in the moonlight.
Zoey recognized the glass as the reflective surface of the anchor point. They
had just mirror-ported through the old barn’s window. She felt amazed and lucky
to be part of something so extraordinary. Normal kids didn’t travel the world using
mirrors. She smiled. This beat any fancy airplane ride. This was
awesome
.

“Take this,” said Agent Vargas. He took the empty water bottle from
Zoey and gave her a large canister instead.

Zoey took the canister. It looked like a large hairspray can. The label
read, “Skedaddle Anti-Fairy Spray, your # 1 repellent.”

She chuckled as she shook the canister. “Seriously? We’re going to
spray
this on fairies?
Actual
fairies?” She shook the can
again. “Does this stuff actually work?”

Agent Vargas looked up towards the power lines. “Of course it works!
It’s the best fairy repellent there is. You’re going to need it.”

“No way.” Zoey started laughing and only stopped when she realized
that he wasn’t kidding. She looked around. Everyone else had canisters in their
hands, too.

Stuart smiled at her confusion, and she did her best to ignore him. Even
though she had
no
idea what was going
on, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of thinking that he knew more
than she did. Whatever the canisters were used for, she would use them just
like the others. She kept her mouth shut and waited.

Agent Vargas had seen her confusion as well. “Fairies are hostile
mystics, Zoey. They sneak across into our world illegally and plague us with
mischief—nothing worse than fairies, if you ask me. Nasty creatures.”

“What do they do that’s so terrible? Aren’t fairies small and cute
with colorful wings?” Zoey tried to imagine evil fairies, but she couldn’t
imagine beautiful creatures with butterfly wings being evil. In all the stories
she’d read, fairies were
good
. Every
girl wanted a fairy, even her.

Agent Vargas looked up towards the power lines. “Have you ever
experienced a black out? A power outage when nothing electric works?”

Zoey remembered when they lost power at the orphanage. It was always
a treat. They would light up candles and read spooky stories to each other until
late at night. They were her favorite memories.

“Yes,” she said finally. “Lots of times.”

“Well, that’s fairies’ work,” said Agent Vargas. “Although Mutes
might think that power outages are caused by storms or animals accidentally short
circuiting the fuse box, that’s not the case. Fairies love to cause power
outages. Fairies feed on electricity you see, and we need to stop them. They
can destroy an entire city’s main powerhouse in only a few hours. They could
wipe out a whole country’s power system in a week. Can you image a world
without power? Don’t be fooled. Fairies are hostiles and extremely dangerous. It’s
our job to spray them and bag them.”

“Bag them?”

Agent Vargas dropped his duffel bag, unzipped it, pulled out a large
black garbage bag, and threw it to Zoey.

She caught the bag easily. “Bag them with this?”

She stood with the bag in her hand, not really knowing what to do
with it.

“That’s right. We bag them and take them back to the hive with us.
Everyone, grab a bag.” He stepped back and waited until everyone had a black
bag.

“Operatives, we need to move fast. The fairies are already
mutating,
and we all know what happens
when they do. Spray cans at the ready, boys and girls. There’s a prize for the
one with most bagged fairies. Move!”

He marched across the field towards the power lines. With their
spray cans in one hand and bags in the other, the operatives traipsed across
the field after the big man.

Zoey walked alongside Tristan and Simon. “Have you guys done this
before? Spray and bag fairies?” She noticed that Tristan had two more cans in
his front jean pockets.