The Seer’s Sister: Prequel to The Magic Eaters Trilogy

by Carol Beth Anderson

  “You’re very observant.” She looked away from him, not sure what else to say.

  “I care about the people who work for me.” His voice held a smile. “You’re smart and driven. You’ll find someone who appreciates that.”

  “Thanks.” Ellin took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m concerned I won’t have a chance to find someone who appreciates me.”

  He laughed. “You’ll have plenty of chances, Ellin.”

  It was a clichéd answer, but a kind one too. Once again, Ellin could picture her father responding in the same way. How many conversations like this had she missed out on in the last eight years? After a few seconds steeping in the comfort of Merak’s words, she chided herself, Get back on track.

  She took a deep breath. “Mr. Merak, may I be honest with you?”

  “Always.”

  “I’m concerned for the health of everyone at this camp. Even more for those at the dig site.” Ellin wasn’t about to tell him she was frightened for the rest of the world; he’d think she was crazy. “I’ve been looking at all the research, and the radiation levels are rising as we get closer to uncovering whatever is hidden in that mountain. What if it’s dangerous? You said yourself, there’s an incredible brain trust here. Right now, we’re all at risk.”

  Ellin stopped talking, waiting for his response. She dared to glance his way and found him watching her thoughtfully.

  He didn’t speak until they’d nearly reached the executive office building. Then he stopped, and Ellin did too, turning toward him.

  “This brain trust—do you really think I’d put it at risk?” Merak asked.

  She opened her mouth, closed it again, and finally answered, “I trust you, Mr. Merak. I don’t think you’d ever deliberately put us at risk.”

  “But I might do it accidentally?”

  Ellin shrugged, then squared her shoulders and gave him a firm nod.

  “I trust you too.” Merak’s gaze, somber and sincere, locked with hers. “Your mind can keep up with any of our researchers; I’m convinced of that. I want to know why you’re concerned.”

  Ellin’s breath exited her chest in a relieved sigh. She pointed at the warehouse. “I left my flex in there. Can I run back and get it? I can use it to show you what I found.”

  “Since we’re here already, why don’t you use the deskscreen in my office? I assume your research is on the company network?”

  Not all of it was, but Ellin certainly wouldn’t risk losing his trust by showing him her secret flex. It was in the pocket of the jacket she’d left in the warehouse office. There was more than enough information on the Merak research network for her to make a convincing case. “Thank you.”

  He took her to the back of the building, where he inserted his finger into a scanner. The door clicked, and he held it open for her.

  As Ellin entered into a short hallway, she looked back at the scanner. Fingerprint technology seemed so old-fashioned for a place like this.

  Merak must have seen where she was looking, because he said, “DNA verification. It brushes off the dead cells on my finger and analyzes them.”

  “Oh,” Ellin said. “Fancy.”

  Merak smiled and followed the same process at a scanner next to the door on their left. He opened the door, and they entered his office.

  “Have a seat, Ellin,” he said. “Show me what you’ve found.”

  She walked to his desk. He had a hover chair, and it looked insanely comfortable, upholstered in butter-smooth faux leather. Ellin picked up a chair on the other side of the desk and started carrying it toward the workstation.

  “You can use my chair,” Merak said.

  Still holding the other chair, which was faux wood with a small cushion in the seat, she said, “Oh, that’s not necessary.”

  “It’s right in front of the deskscreen already. Have a seat. I’ll use this one.”

  He took the chair from her, and she walked around the desk. She couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her throat as she lowered herself into his seat. It molded itself to her like it had been waiting for her arrival.

  When Merak was seated next to her, he placed his finger in yet another scanner, this one built into the front of his workstation. The deskscreen lit up. “It’s all yours.”

  Ellin logged on to the company research network and pulled up charts of the daily radiation levels. Intending to explain the data to Merak, she turned toward him.

  He was leaning forward, watching her with a strange expression. The fervency of his gaze stripped the words from her throat, and she pressed her back against the chair.

  Is he about to hit on me?

  No, it wasn’t that type of expression. She didn’t think so, anyway. He merely looked fiercely interested. In her? In the research? She couldn’t tell.

  He looked away from her, fixing his eyes on the screen. “What are we looking at here?”

  He’s interested in the research. Ellin let out her breath, nearly laughing with relief. She spent a few seconds enlarging the first chart and collecting her thoughts. Then she explained the rising radiation levels to Merak.

  His eyes lost none of their earnestness, but it was all reserved for the data they were discussing. He asked smart questions and nodded at her ready answers.

  Next, she delved deeper into the most recent daily readings, comparing them to the data from two deadly radiation accidents. The similarities were clear, but she still walked him through it, emphasizing the pertinent details.

  When that was done, Merak silently examined the graphs and tables on the screen, flipping through them with quick gestures. Then he sat back, crossed one arm over his stomach, and gripped his chin with his other hand. His solemn gaze shifted to her. “I can see why you’re concerned, Ellin.”

  “You can?” She’d been ready to defend her findings. Hearing his words, a smile tugged at her lips.

  Merak, too, smiled. He rested his hands lightly in his lap, abandoning his thoughtful pose. “I may be stubborn, but I also love data. These aren’t the figures I want to see, but this is reality, isn’t it?” He released a sigh. “There are a couple of scientists at the dig site who are all too aware of the risks of working with radiation. I’d like to share your analysis with them.”

  Ellin sat up straighter and leaned forward. “You’d do that?”

  “Of course. They need to know what you’ve discovered. They’re probably too bogged down in all their data to see the patterns you’ve identified. Before I talk to them, however, I need to make sure I have the details straight.”

  Merak gestured at the screen, bringing up the first figures Ellin had shown him. He began explaining the research, as if he were talking to the on-site scientists, but he got the terminology all wrong. Ellin corrected him, and he started over, but then he made another mistake, this time in his description of a graph.

  After Ellin’s fifth correction, Merak threw his hands up and laughed ruefully. “I don’t know what to tell you, Ellin! I’m a visionary guy, not a detail guy. Everything you’re telling me makes sense, but when I try to explain it, I can’t measure up to your clarity or accuracy.”

  Ellin was glad he’d said it, because she’d pretty much been thinking the same thing. “Why don’t we call the on-site researchers? I can go over it with them, just like I did with you.”

  “It’s worth a shot.” Merak pulled out his flex, firmed it, and started navigating it. A couple of minutes later, he collapsed the flex and said, “They’re not responding, and honestly, I’m not surprised. They’re usually too focused on their work to realize I’ve emmed them. When I need to talk to them, I go there directly. This is time sensitive; I should probably head over there now. I just wish I had a better handle on the research.”

  Ellin bit her lip. Merak could talk to the researchers, but they’d never take him seriously. If it weren’t for the radiation at the site, she’d offer to sit down with the scientists herself. Just the thought of breathing the air at that place made her heart beat wildly. She to
ok a deep breath. “I know you wear an antirad at the dig site. How effective is it?”

  “It blocks out one hundred percent of harmful radiation. I wouldn’t settle for anything but the best, for myself or my employees.”

  You can do this. She forced a smile to her lips. “Do you have an extra?”

  “Sure, I keep a few in my glidecraft.” His eyes widened. “Are you offering to talk to the researchers yourself, Ellin?”

  “Well, only if you think it would be helpful.”

  “It’s a fantastic idea! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself. In fact, I can’t wait to see their faces when they realize how well you understand their research!” He chuckled.

  Ellin was still nervous about the radiation, but if Merak trusted his antirad, she could too. “How will I get to the site?” she asked. “On a hov?”

  “I’ll take you in my glidecraft. I’ll need to introduce you to the scientists.”

  Ellin’s mouth dropped open. This day is turning out so weird. A couple of hours ago, she’d seriously considered the possibility that Merak had ordered the deaths of two of his employees. Then she’d seen the empathy and grief in his eyes, and when she’d followed her gut and asked to talk to him, he’d further confirmed his trustworthiness by validating her concerns. And now he wanted to personally take her to share her data with the scientists? She’d hoped he’d listen to her, but she’d never dreamed the conversation would go this well.

  Ellin realized she was staring at Merak like she’d lost her senses. She cleared her throat. “Sorry, I just—if someone had told me a couple of months ago that I’d be sitting in Alvun Merak’s ridiculously comfortable desk chair, getting ready to take a ride in his private glidecraft to talk to his top scientists, I would’ve thought they’d lost their mind.” They both laughed, and she said, “I guess we should go. Like you said, this is time sensitive.”

  He stood. “My glidecraft is out back.”

  21

  SATURDAY, CYON 23, 6293

  -14 DAYS

  Trett joined Rona at a small table in the dining hall.

  “Where’s Ellin?” she asked.

  Trett’s sandwich halted halfway to his mouth. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  Rona chewed a bite of her own sandwich, swallowed, and shrugged. “She emmed me hours ago. She was going to help with memorial prep. She must still be busy with that.”

  “Yeah, she was in the same warehouse as me. They had her doing something in the office. She left almost an hour ago, and I haven’t seen her since. Could she be in her room?”

  Rona shook her head. “I knocked repeatedly. She doesn’t sleep through something like that. And she’s not answering ems.”

  Trett set his still-uneaten sandwich on his plate. He swallowed, but his throat was tight. “She left right after Merak.”

  Rona’s wide eyes fixed on him. “Merak was there too?”

  “He was helping us set up. He kept looking back in the office, like he was keeping an eye on Ellin. Do you think—” He leaned forward and waited until Rona did the same. Then he whispered, “Do you think there’s any way he found out what we’re doing?”

  “I didn’t think he’d find out what Nomi and Sep were doing, but now . . . I’m wondering. About a lot of things.”

  Trett sat up straight and forced a smile. Voice at normal volume, he said, “This sandwich is disgusting. Want to go eat in Krenner?”

  Rona smiled back. “Sure, let’s go.”

  Trett hoped his grin didn’t look as fake as hers.

  As soon as they sat in the café, Rona pulled out her secret flex.

  “What are you doing?” Trett asked.

  “Checking my IDMs. My hacker friend emmed me before dinner telling me she’d sent me something.”

  “I don’t really care what your hacker friend is doing.” It took a great deal of effort for Trett to keep his voice down. “I care about finding Ellin. Can’t you track her or something?”

  Rona looked up. “Sorry, Trett, I don’t think she wore her tracking collar today.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not what I’m asking. Can you track her flex?”

  Rona blinked. “That’s actually a good question. I can’t; we’ve locked down location detection on all our flexes. Maybe my friend can get past that. I’ll em her.”

  Her fingers danced on her flex, and after the longest two minutes in history, she looked up at Trett. “Good news. Remember when my friend helped us with the security settings on our flexes? She still has access to them. She’s tracking both of Ellin’s devices now.”

  The server came up, and Trett curtly ordered two coffees, just to get her to leave.

  “She located the devices,” Rona said. She paused to examine the message, and her shoulders visibly drooped. “Both of Ellin’s flexes are in the warehouse.”

  Trett squeezed his eyes shut and rested his head in his hands. “Tell your friend to wipe Ellin’s flexes. Both of them.”

  “What?”

  He lifted his head and clenched both fists, resting them on the table. “I have a bad feeling, Rona.”

  “I’m supposed to be the one with bad feelings.”

  “Yeah, well, let’s hope you get something more concrete than that. Soon.”

  Rona nodded, and he saw her throat compress in a swallow. He supposed that was the most emotion he’d get from her.

  “I’ll ask her to wipe Ellin’s devices. Then I need to check my IDMs.” Rona returned her attention to her flex. A couple of minutes later, she met Trett’s eyes, and though her expression was still blank, her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. She handed her flex to him.

  Trett took it and silently read the IDM.

  I finally found out who Merak’s father is. It shouldn’t have been so hard, but apparently his mother changed her name, and it took me forever to track her original identity.

  * * *

  Like he told Ellin, his father was a legislator. Wallum Ekrid. Merak’s mother worked for him. She quit about halfway through her pregnancy.

  * * *

  You’ve probably heard of Ekrid. He had the second-highest seniority in the national legislature until he died suddenly fifteen years ago. His private solarplane crashed.

  * * *

  I looked into the crash, and it’s very strange. The government always investigates such accidents, and the records are supposed to be public. For some reason, this investigation is sealed. The only public information is a statement attributing the crash to a software failure.

  * * *

  Other than this incident, there hasn’t been a solarplane crash due to software failure in fifty years.

  * * *

  I’ll continue looking for more information, but I keep reaching dead ends. The people who set up the encryption on those records have more talent and more resources than I do.

  * * *

  -Kizha

  Trett’s eyes snapped up, meeting Rona’s gaze. “Would the greatest philanthropist in the world be capable of arranging his father’s death?”

  Rona’s mouth barely moved as she responded, “Would the greatest philanthropist in the world be capable of taking out two rebellious employees?”

  “And Ellin—” Trett had to force the words through his tight throat. The world was ending in two weeks, and as torturous as the three days since their breakup had been, he couldn’t tolerate the thought of not spending every possible remaining moment with her. “Where is she?”

  Rona just shook her head.

  Trett looked around. They’d often seen other Merak employees at this café. People knew it was their place. Awareness overwhelmed him—of how vulnerable they were here, how public this place was, how easy it would be for someone to find them.

  Trett shoved his chair back. “Em your friend and have her wipe your official flex. Mine too. We’ll leave them here.” He took both devices and shoved them behind a potted plant near their table. “We can’t go back to our rooms. And we can’t stay
here.”

  Rona stood, her fingers dancing across the screen of her secret flex. When she was done, they hurried to the door. As they exited, Trett murmured directly in her ear, “You’d better start having some visions. Fast.”

  22

  SATURDAY, CYON 23, 6293

  -14 DAYS

  Merak walked Ellin to his private glidecraft behind the office. She stepped in, then flashed him a smile. “It’s nice in here!”

  He laughed. That smile, the way she talked—so much about Ellin Havier reminded him of his Ellin. He stepped in after her and grabbed two antirads from their charging ports. After slipping one in his pocket, he handed the second one to her. “Put this in your pocket. It’ll block all harmful radiation at the dig site. It even prevents sunburn.”

  She eyed the small device, then did as he’d asked. “How do I turn it on?”

  “It’ll already on. It’s sensing your body shape right now.”

  He watched her, and he could tell the moment the antirad activated. She flinched, then gave him an uncertain smile.

  “It feels like my skin is cold . . . but it’s not,” she said.

  Merak chuckled. “That’s normal. You’ll get used to it.”

  “How does it work?”

  “I have no idea. I’m surprised you’re not currently explaining that to me.” He gestured to the button next to the door. “If you’re ready, just close the door, and we’ll be off.”

  She pressed the button, and the door slid closed.

  The ride to the dig site at the base of Cellerin Mountain only took a couple of minutes. Instead of landing immediately, Merak hovered above the site. “Care for an aerial tour?”