The Heart of the Circle

by Keren Landsman

  Daphne cleared her throat.

  “You go ahead,” Matthew said, “I’ll just pop by the nurses’ station for a moment to make sure Lilac’s patient is getting the VIP treatment.”

  Lilac laughed and patted him on the shoulder.

  Lee sent me a ball of amusement and tugged my consciousness in Sherry’s direction. I didn’t feel comfortable reading her, but he highlighted one specific line. Jealousy tinged with feelings of inferiority. Not particularly intense, but enough so I’d make a mental note to mention it to Matthew later.

  Oleander’s room was at the end of the corridor. He was reading in bed, his bandaged leg propped up on a pile of pillows. Daphne entered first, almost hurling herself towards him. Lee and I followed her into the room, Sherry close behind us.

  Oleander held his arms open and Daphne plunged herself into his embrace, a few inches shy of his injured leg. “I missed you,” she said, and they kissed.

  I put the stack of Tupperware on the bedside table. The book Oleander had been reading was splayed open beside him. “The Decline of the West and its Possible Redemption,” I read the title aloud. “A light read?”

  “I studied it in college in my History of Nazism course.” Lee stepped past me to take a closer look at the book. “This is what you read when you’re bedridden?”

  “It gets boring with no one around.” Oleander hugged Daphne tighter, and she put her head on his shoulder.”Now my redemption has arrived.”

  Daphne giggled. “How very decadent of you.” They kissed again.

  Lee pulled a can from the six-pack and handed it to Sherry. “Beer?”

  Sherry shook her head.

  “Always on duty,” Oleander remarked.

  Sherry gestured towards me. “As long as that one’s still alive.”

  “Thanks,” I smiled at her.

  “Come on,” Lee said, handing me the can. “You’re having a drink, and I’m neck-feathering you.”

  Daphne smirked. “Reed hates beer. Good luck trying to take away the taste of that one from him.”

  “Lee has no intention of alleviating Reed of the beer’s taste,” Oleander laughed. “He wants to get him buzzed.” He gestured a thumbs-up at Lee. “I admire that ability.”

  “The ability of getting someone buzzed?” Sherry asked. Something about her tensed, even though she didn’t show it outwardly.

  Daphne met her gaze and nodded. “That’s why I brought you here. The other damuses can’t see what’s happening in here, and you guys have to talk.”

  “If you’re a moody, you can use substances to…” Lee began to say and cleared his throat. “To affect other people.”

  Oleander stroked Daphne. “Lee means he can use the substance himself to maneuver someone else. It’s like amplification. An artificial enhancement to what they usually do.”

  Sherry looked at Lee. “What’s the difference between that and a regular maneuvering?”

  Lee hesitated. “When you maneuver someone, you have to feel the emotion,” he replied. “And when you… when you use, you can… you can take whatever you’re using and pass it on. For instance, you’re not happy but you take something that fills your brain with serotonin, then you can pass that artificial feeling on. And then you can… feel together,” he barely managed to finish the sentence. The tension inside him was mounting. I poked inside him and caressed the stifled feeling, to alleviate it a little.

  There was anger in Sherry’s voice when she said, “My empaths said taking substances to affect other people’s consciousnesses is nearly impossible.”

  “Only if you’re inexperienced,” Lee replied with a hint of disregard in his tone. “Your empaths probably don’t want to take the risk of being affected by the substances themselves.”

  “I thought you were here to visit me,” Oleander said, leaning back on the pillows.

  Daphne stroked him. “I am here to visit you. I brought Sherry and Lee so they can talk without the Sons of Simeon listening.”

  Sherry looked at me. “Can you do what Lee’s talking about to me?”

  I shrugged. “With a lot of practice, maybe. It’s a little like moodification.” Except for the fact that this was someone’s brain we were talking about, not books or posters, and the mere thought of maneuvering her made me sick to my stomach.

  Sherry turned to Lee. “Can you teach me how to protect myself against it?”

  “Only after I get a signed guarantee that whatever happens, you won’t throw me in jail and forget I ever existed.”

  “You enlist civilians to the police force?” Oleander’s tone was too sharp. There was too much happening, and I couldn’t read him clearly. He was probably stressed, like me, talking about illegal things with a police officer.

  “I make use of whatever I can.” Sherry pointed at Lee. “I need to take defensive measures against it. Against a Sons of Simeon’s empath screwing with the minds of my cops.”

  “What?” Lee shot up. “Nothing of the sort happened at the rally. I would have known if someone…”

  “She said screwed with the cops, not with you,” Daphne replied on Sherry’s behalf. “I’ve suspected for a while that someone’s maneuvering them, but not the regular maneuvering, one that’s amplified by substances, and it’s only now that someone’s willing to listen.”

  “You don’t know for sure that’s what’s going on,” Oleander interjected. “It’s just a hypothesis. It’s not–”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Sherry cut him off. She looked at Daphne. “Thanks,” she said quietly and turned to Lee. “Now explain it to me slowly, please.”

  Lee began, faltering at first, but picking up his pace halfway through. He told her about Morty, a cleaner, more polished version. I recognized the terms, I had used them myself when cleaning up my past for professionals.

  I helped him by contributing a little information Sherry was missing about the abilities of empaths. No, I couldn’t maneuver her like that, and certainly not as well as Lee could. Yes, I could maneuver an entire pub full of normies and elementalists, but it wasn’t like maneuvering moodies. Lee and I explained to her that maneuvering another moody required a lot more effort, and the price you paid for it afterwards was much higher too. The more we talked about it, the more we agreed that whoever was maneuvering Sherry’s cops probably wasn’t touching moodies, but focusing instead on normies, maybe even on elementalists, causing the desired effect without being discovered or entirely depleted.

  Sherry sank into her plastic chair and drummed on her knee. I could picture her behind her desk at the police station, tapping her pen on the table.

  “And if you both took the same substance? Could you combine your powers and maneuver more people?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure. I’ve never tried.” Lee’s brow furrowed. “I’m also pretty sure that if Reed took some of that stuff, he’d have such a psychotic breakdown we’d have to rush him to the ER.”

  “But not you.” Sherry continued to drum her fingers on her knee. “And how do I defend myself against it?”

  I knew the answer to that one. “You need an experienced empath on your side, and then he can dismantle whatever they throw at you. Preferably more than one empath.”

  Sherry pursed her lips. “My empaths refuse to experiment with those substances. The Sons of Simeon don’t have the same limitations as the police. We’re losing the battle before we’ve even begun the fight.” She shook her head. “Damn.”

  “I could…” Lee said hesitantly, then continued with a more confident tone, “I could show your empaths what to do. If you want, that is.”

  Sherry leaned forward. “I’d really appreciate it. Thanks.” Oleander started laughing. “I can’t believe she manipulated you so easily, dude.”

  Sherry raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  Daphne pinched Oleander’s arm. “Come on, stop it.”

  Oleander pointed at Lee. “It’s incredible, how long did it take, five minutes? She got you to switch from ‘I’m not doing anything, wha
t are you talking about,’ to ‘sure I’ll help. I’ll maneuver as many cops as you’d like.’” He looked at Sherry and stopped smiling. “You’re worse than Linden.”

  “Excellent comparison.” Sherry interlaced her fingers. “A cop whose only goal is to keep everyone alive compared to a lunatic prophet who’s convinced the best thing that could happen is a tyrannical regime with him safely installed as tyrant.”

  “And I say you’re both so gung-ho there’s no reasoning with either of you. He won’t stop talking about his vision for the future of humankind, and you won’t stop running over whoever’s standing in your way, including people who’re supposed to be dead within a month,” Oleander said.

  I shriveled into a ball.

  Sherry narrowed her lips. “I’m doing whatever I can to prevent Reed’s death…”

  “I’m not talking about Reed,” Oleander cut her off. “I’m talking about the fact that Daphne finally comes to visit me, and you have to tag along. I have exactly five more weeks to live, and you’re ruining them.”

  Sherry straightened up. “So?”

  Oleander seemed baffled. “What do you mean, so?”

  “So what if you’re going to die? You’ve known that for… how long now? Thirty years?”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.”

  “Before my sister passed away, she made sure to make an impact on the world she was about to leave behind her.” I felt the tightness in her throat, but Sherry’s voice didn’t waver. “I’m sorry you’re going to die. But I need help. The Sons of Simeon are steering our present, and we have to find a way to deal with it.”

  “Or we don’t.”

  “Or we don’t what?” The arrows of Sherry’s rage punctured the air between them.

  “Have you even considered that maybe the vision Linden’s presenting everyone is a decoy? That maybe the Sons of Simeon are steering us to a better place behind his back?” Oleander sounded just as angry as she was.

  “And maybe tomorrow morning we’ll all hold hands and sing about peace and love!” Sherry raised her voice. “The Sons of Simeon are navigating us towards a very specific future, and they’re targeting a very specific person, and I won’t let that happen.”

  “You can’t stop violence with violence,” Oleander raised his voice. “Don’t you get it? You’re trapped in the social conventions you’re–”

  “Enough!” Lee blurted. We all looked at him. “Enough,” he repeated in a slightly quieter voice, and turned to Oleander. “We’ll go now. We’ll give you some time alone with Daphne, OK?”

  He looked at Sherry and said, “And I’ll prepare a list for you. Substances, emotional responses, how to stop things, the works. OK?” He got up and reached his hand out to me. “Come, let’s get going. I have enough yelling back home.”

  I took his hand and stood up.

  “I’m sorry,” Oleander said in a calmer voice. “Stay. I didn’t mean to flip my lid like that.” He looked at me. “I’ve got that type of shouting at home too.”

  I stroked Lee’s arm. “It’s OK,” I said, managing a smile. “I need to take Lee back and get some very different yells out of him.”

  Oleander smiled, making Lee smile. We said goodbye to Daphne. Still withdrawn into herself, Sherry followed us out of the room.

  “He’s not wrong, you know,” Lee commented once we were in the corridor.

  Sherry’s head swerved sharply to him. “What do you mean?”

  “If the Sons of Simeon have a lot of damuses, they can navigate towards a different future from the one Linden’s aiming at,” Lee said quietly. “Back home, about ten years ago, there was a faction of the KKK that managed to steer an entire group away from their plan.”

  “We can’t rely on the presumably good intentions of seers who’re cooperating with the most dangerous force our community has faced in the past two decades,” Sherry replied, but she didn’t sound as tough as when she was arguing with Oleander.

  Lee held his hands out. “I wasn’t suggesting we trust them. I’m just saying that maybe Oleander has a point. Maybe confrontation isn’t the right way to go about it. Not now, anyway.”

  “Said the guy who comes from a world in which they dismember whoever turns against the community,” Sherry replied.

  Lee fell silent.

  We walked towards the nurses’ station, where Matthew and Lilac were still immersed in conversation. Matthew turned to us as we approached. “We’re going,” I said.

  “And Daphne?”

  Lee gestured behind him. “With Oleander. We’ll take the bus home.”

  Matthew looked at Lilac, then back at us, and once again at Lilac. “I’ll see you around.”

  “You don’t have to change your plans on our account,” Sherry said dryly.

  Matthew smiled. “Don’t need to, want to.” He waved towards the exit. “Shall we?”

  Lee and Matthew got to talking about the differences between the hospitals in Israel and the ones in the Confederacy, and Sherry got a phone call. I lagged behind a bit, echoes of the argument in Oleander’s room still haunting me. Lost in thought, I almost bumped into someone, catching myself a second before the collision.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled, and only then realized it was Ivy.

  In a dark dress, hair weaved into a braid and freckles gleaming in the fading sun, she looked sixteen. I used to joke with her that she could pass as one of my group at Yoyo.

  Ivy balled her hands into fists and immediately relaxed them. “We don’t need to talk.”

  “What are you doing here?” I asked before realizing what a stupid question that was.

  “Daphne’s still with Oleander,” she said, a statement instead of a question.

  I nodded.

  She exhaled slowly. “OK, I’ll go check if the cafeteria’s still open.”

  “You used to time things better,” I couldn’t help but quip.

  “That was when my brother wasn’t in the hospital flooded with so many timelines that I had to walk with my eyes on the ground so as not to see people fucking everywhere,” she groused humorously.

  “I’m sorry about Oleander.”

  Ivy crossed her arms. “Not as much as I am.”

  I didn’t reply.

  Ivy waited, but didn’t look past my shoulder. She never skimmed my futures next to me. She always made sure to address only my current timeline, and talk only to me. She wouldn’t say anything unless I continued the conversation.

  “Do you know what’s going to happen to him?”

  “Not cancer or anything like that. Probably an accident. He doesn’t allow me to look,” her voice trailed off.

  “Death is a private matter,” I quoted her. She used to say it to me when I complained that Daphne wouldn’t tell me how long she was going to live. Ivy always took Daphne’s side instead of mine.

  Another silence ensued. “From what I hear from Oleander, Lee sounds nice,” she eventually said. “More than what’s-his-face.”

  “What’s-his-face,” I repeated. “I’m not even sure which of the what’s-his-faces you’re referring to.”

  She smiled, and for a moment looked like my old friend again, the same damus who sat at our table in the cafeteria and told Aurora and Forrest that the way they were staring at each other was ruining her appetite, and if they didn’t go release that tension between them at once, she’d use them as a case study in her course on intimate relationships – and after they disappeared whispered, “I just wanted Aurora’s pudding cup. It was the last one,” and gobbled it up.

  “I’m glad you have Daphne. She… she was always better at looking after you than I was,” Ivy said.

  “I don’t need looking after.”

  “No.” She peered into my eyes, and despite the flood around us, I managed to feel her. She was full of hopelessness. “You don’t need some deranged damus to make sure you aren’t hurting yourself,” she quoted me. The sadness in her voice almost made my eyes well up. She put her hand on my arm. “Take ca
re of yourself, will you?”

  Instead of shaking her off, I put my hand on hers. “You too.”

  It seemed as if she was about to say something, but then I heard Lee calling me, and she slipped her hand out from under mine and walked away.

  All I could think about during the bus ride was Ivy. How she had come back from that first meeting with the Sons of Simeon, back when they were just a bunch of sorcerers seeking a better future. She was almost beaming with excitement upon her return, saying that she had finally been shown a future in which we were living true freedom. She held my hand and could barely sit still, kept asking me to come to a meeting with her. To come share the vision. She promised me it was entirely safe. “We’ll just enter a sorcery fountain for a few minutes, in and out.” But Daphne stopped me, and later Ivy betrayed us all, and the whole world fell apart, and there was no getting her back.

  31

  Gleaming teeth and arms twisting around me. Water filling my lungs. I’m choking. Panting.

  I woke up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. Lee sat up beside me, engulfed in the haze of sleep. “What happened?”

  I rubbed my eyes. “Nightmare.” The last images slipped away as my mind came into wakeful focus. A distorted face chasing me. Suffocation. Clutching, inescapable arms.

  The room was dark, lit only by orange stripes spilling in through the shutters and painting the ceiling. I heard Daphne’s door opening, then quiet footsteps in the hallway followed by a hesitant knock on my door.

  “Everything’s OK,” Lee said loudly. “Just a nightmare.”

  Sherry opened the door a crack. She was wearing the same clothes I had given her yesterday. Or perhaps two days ago. The days garbled in my memory. Lee pulled the blanket over us both. We were barely covered, and Lee’s feet poked out the end.

  “What was the nightmare about?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  She pushed the door ajar, stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. She stood above me, arms folded across her chest. “What did you dream about?”

  The door opened again and Matthew appeared.

  “You can’t get any privacy around here,” Lee grunted. He was feeling weighed down, but it wasn’t reflected in his tone.