Seams in Reality

by Alex Siegel

  Andrew took a step, and sudden weakness made him lean onto a chair. Even though the test had just been a mental exercise, it had left him physically exhausted. Charley came over and helped support him. He gave her a warm smile of gratitude.

  "What's next?" he said.

  "You'll get your scholarship," Tonya said. "Both you and Charley will be my apprentices going forward. There is just a small matter of filling out a few forms in my office."

  Something in her tone put Andrew on edge.

  They left the chamber. The two guards in blue suits were waiting, and they took their places inside.

  Andrew frowned. "What did you mean by keeping out the riff-raff?"

  "This seam is prime real estate," Tonya said, "one of the biggest on the continent. There are plenty of sorcerers who would love to suckle from this teat of power."

  "How many other sorcerers are there?"

  "Ask Frank. He'll have the exact number."

  "Frank?" he said in surprise. "He's here?"

  Tonya didn't answer. She led Andrew and Charley back to Tonya's spacious office in the basement. Frank was sitting behind the desk with a bored expression.

  "Looks like the kid survived," he said in a bland tone.

  "Who are you?" Andrew said. "Really?"

  Frank stood up and reached across the desk to shake his hand. "Frank Webster, Director of the Bureau of Physical Investigation."

  Andrew shrugged. "Never heard of it. Are you another sorcerer?"

  "Negative, I'm very happy to report. No, it's our job to keep an eye on people like you. We monitor all sorcerers in the United States on behalf of the Federal Government. I have some forms for you to sign." Frank put a briefcase on the desk and opened it.

  The government knows about us? Andrew thought.

  He sat at the desk. Frank gave him a thick stack of legal documents with colored tabs to show where to sign. The title at the top of the first page said, "Power of Attorney."

  Andrew furrowed his brow. "What's this?"

  "That document gives your Power of Attorney to the BPI irrevocably. The next one waives your right to a trial by jury. The third says you'll work exclusively for us for the rest of your life. The fourth allows us to search and seize your property without a warrant. And so on. Just sign. I'll have copies sent to you so you can read them later."

  Tonya and Charley were standing in the office. Andrew looked back and saw expressions of resignation on their faces. No help there, he thought.

  He put down the papers. "I'm not signing my life away! Are you nuts?"

  Frank took out a large gun and placed it on the desk with a loud thunk. "No, I'm just doing my job."

  "Which is to monitor us?" Andrew glanced at the gun.

  "Let me explain. The United States Government doesn't trust you. I don't trust you. Sorcerers are slippery, conniving, stubborn, violent creeps who are all borderline insane. The BPI has a special prison where we put the ones who won't toe the line. Maximum security and solitary confinement. If you're not careful, that's where you'll end up. Good sorcerers sign paperwork, and bad ones go to prison. Which one are you?" Frank glared.

  Andrew wilted. "If you think we're so much trouble," he said softly, "why don't you lock us all up?"

  "We tried that in the past, and it was a disaster. It turns out having some sorcerers on the team is necessary. There are certain problems only you can solve. For example, it takes a good sorcerer to catch a bad one. The seams must be guarded by experts. We eventually decided working with you was more productive than hunting you to extinction."

  "Oh." Andrew looked down at the intimidating pile of forms. "But it still seems like a bad deal for me."

  "As long as you cooperate," Frank said, "the BPI will take care of you. You'll get a regular salary, health benefits, protective services, and in your case, a full scholarship. Technically, you'll be a federal agent for life with all the perks. Now, start signing. It's getting late, and I want to fly back to Washington tonight."

  Andrew understood the deal, but he didn't like it. It seemed unfair, particularly because he didn't have a choice.

  He looked over his shoulder at Charley. "Is this another trick?"

  "No." She shook her head sadly. "It's painfully real. I had to sign the same forms."

  Andrew frowned and turned back to Frank. "How many sorcerers are there?"

  "Thirty in the United States that we know of. Thirty-one with you. Ten are in prison."

  "What about other countries?"

  "Not my concern. Stop stalling and sign!" Frank put his hand on his gun.

  Andrew grudgingly signed the papers. Charley sighed behind his back.

  By the time the deed was done, his hand was tired from signing his name over and over.

  Frank gathered all the papers and stuffed them in his briefcase. "Obviously, you're not going to talk about this with anybody. It's top secret, like the plans for an atomic bomb. Blabbermouths get put away."

  He left without another word. He seemed eager to get out of there.

  "Both of you are done for the night," Tonya said. "We'll meet at the seam at 9 AM sharp. Andrew, you'll get your first real lesson then."

  "But I have class," Andrew said.

  "We'll rearrange your schedule."

  Charley patted him on the shoulder. "I'll walk you back to your dorm."

  He stood and walked out of the Fine Arts Building with her. His legs still felt a little wobbly, and his heart rate refused to settle down, but he was recovering. The cool night air chilled the sweat on his forehead. They headed across campus towards his dorm. A light breeze made the dry leaves rustle, and street lamps cast long shadows.

  "How are you feeling?" Charley said.

  "Like I got hit in the head," Andrew said. "All of a sudden, I'm a sorcerer and part of a government conspiracy at the same time. Being near the seam woke up something inside me I didn't know was asleep."

  "Tonya told me your grandfather was a powerful sorcerer. When you were a baby, she sensed you had the same kind of talent, but she couldn't start your training until you were old enough to handle it."

  "She knew me when I was a baby?"

  "Yes," Charley said. "She's been keeping an eye on you your whole life. This was all planned in advance."

  "And coming to Theosophical University wasn't a coincidence."

  She nodded. "The BPI made sure you didn't get accepted anywhere else."

  "I was wondering why I got so many rejections." He snorted. "My grades weren't that bad."

  As Andrew moved away from the seam, his new powers diminished. The special part of him went back to sleep, and it was like losing a friend. He wanted to return to the Fine Arts Building for just a little while longer.

  He could still sense the invisible energy around Charley though. His sensitivity was reduced, but he retained enough to tell the difference between a sorcerer and a regular person.

  "I don't like Frank," Andrew said.

  She shrugged. "There are much worse alternatives to the BPI. For long periods of history, sorcerers were hunted down and tortured to death. Ever heard of the Spanish Inquisition? The Salem witch trials? We have an unpopular profession. There are still places in the world where we would be killed on the spot. The United States Government actually has an enlightened attitude. As long as we stay out of sight and do as we're told, we can almost lead normal lives."

  Andrew wanted to argue that the situation was still unfair, but it didn't matter. Neither of them had the power to change it.

  His dorm was on the west side of campus where there were spacious lawns and lots of old trees. The deep shadows were a little creepy at night, and he instinctively glanced to either side. He saw a few other students hurrying back and forth. Leaves crunched under his feet as he crossed the grass.

  "Do my parents know?"

  "Maybe a little," Charley said. "The talent skipped over your mother, so she never had any training, but I'm sure she accidently saw your grandfather do a few things. Regardless, you c
an't talk to your parents about this."

  "Does it really have to be that big a secret?"

  "Tonya has a saying. There are two kinds of people: those who want to exploit sorcerers and those who want to kill them. If you tell your parents, they may tell others. Better not."

  Andrew clenched his jaw. Once again, he had to suffer with an unfair situation. He couldn't tell his own parents the biggest news of his life.

  His dorm looked like a small castle on the outside. Limestone walls reached up three stories, and round towers stood at each corner. He knew the towers contained steep, winding stairs which often smelled like puke on the weekends. Dormer windows jutted out from a very steep roof. Unlucky students lived up there where it was cold in the winter and miserably hot in the summer.

  "Are you in a dorm?" Andrew said.

  "No way." Charley shook her head. "I hate dorms. I share a house off-campus with three other students."

  "Renting a house is expensive."

  "Not a problem. The BPI pays us pretty well."

  He smiled. "I like that part at least."

  "Of course the money comes with strings attached. They sometimes put us to work."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Mostly, we investigate suspicious events," she said. "We determine if sorcery was involved. We find previously unknown seams."

  Andrew and Charley went into the dorm. They walked through narrow hallways with carpeting so old and worn down, it was as hard as tile. Cheerful green paint covered the walls. He heard loud music coming from several directions, and that was the most annoying part of living in a dorm. He sometimes needed earplugs to sleep. Charley shook her head and sighed, obviously having the same thought.

  Andrew had been lucky enough to get his own room on the first floor where the air-conditioning worked best. He didn't even have to share it, a privilege usually reserved for seniors. The room was tiny, but it was all his.

  "Let me guess," he said. "Tonya arranged for me to get one of the sweetest rooms in the dorm."

  Charley smiled. "She can be nasty at times, but she can also be your best friend. Stay on her good side. Frank was right about sorcerers being a little insane."

  They arrived at Andrew's room. He fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, but then he remembered the mess inside.

  "Uh," he said, "it's kind of gross in there."

  She chuckled. "I'll see you tomorrow." She walked off.

  He wanted to say something clever to impress her, but no words popped to mind, and all he could do was sigh. She had a very nice backside.

  He had liked her since they had first met months ago. She was smart, mature, confident, and very pretty. He was definitely looking forward to working closely with her during his apprenticeship, and he hoped their relationship would move beyond friendship. He would have to work on his moves though. He had to admit awkwardness around women was a problem for him.

  He went into his room.

  Chapter Three

  A knock on his door jolted Andrew awake. He rubbed his eyes and checked the clock. It was 7:30 AM, and the alarm wasn't set to go off until 8.

  "Hello?" a man called. "Are you home?"

  Andrew sat up. "Yeah, yeah," he yelled. "I'm here. Who is it?"

  "Agent Dan Easton, BPI. Open the door."

  "Do I know you?"

  "Just open the door," Dan said.

  Andrew grabbed a bathrobe off the floor and shrugged it on. He opened the door.

  A good-looking young man was standing in the hallway. His light brown hair was cut to a short, even length. There was plenty of stubble on his chin, but it wasn't quite a beard. A leather jacket partially covered a strong, fit body. Dan was young enough to be a college student but still older than Andrew.

  "Hi," Dan said. "I'm your official liaison. I also work with Charley. Do you want a donut?"

  Dan was holding a box of assorted donuts. Andrew eagerly grabbed a chocolate donut and took a big bite. It tasted fresh-baked.

  "What does an official liaison do?" Andrew said around a full mouth.

  "Mostly, I keep you out of trouble. I have to know where you are at all times."

  Andrew rolled his eyes. "Are you going to follow me around like a chaperone?"

  "Not necessarily," Dan said. "If you give me your daily schedule in advance and stick to it, I won't bother you. Or call before you go anywhere. Here is my contact information."

  He took a white business card out of his pocket and handed it over.

  Andrew wasn't happy. He had just escaped from the ever watchful eyes of his parents a few months ago, and he was enjoying his independence. Now he had to report his movements to a federal agent like a criminal on parole.

  Dan slipped past Andrew and entered the dorm room. Dan shook his head as he looked at the mess, and Andrew felt a little embarrassed. Dirty clothes formed random piles on the floor. There were towering stacks of empty pizza boxes and soda cans. A garbage can was overflowing with crumpled papers.

  Dan sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. "Gah! You actually live like this?"

  "I've been too busy to clean up," Andrew said quietly, "or do my laundry."

  "Our daily meetings won't be here."

  Andrew groaned. "Daily?"

  He noticed a gun in a holster under Dan's jacket.

  "It's not all bad," Dan said. "If you need anything, just let me know."

  "What can I ask for?"

  "Transportation, legal services, medical treatment, protection." Dan shrugged. "Whatever seems reasonable. The BPI takes care of its people."

  "A maid?" Andrew said hopefully.

  "I don't think so."

  Andrew sighed. "Why would I need protection?"

  "Sorcerers are a nasty bunch, and they hold grudges. A leading cause of death is other sorcerers. Watch your back."

  "Oh." He would have to ask Tonya about that. "How long have you been in the BPI?"

  "Just a couple of years," Dan said. "They sent me here because I'm young enough to blend in on a college campus. What's your plan for today?"

  "My first lesson in sorcery is at nine," Andrew said. "I planned to sleep a little more, but I guess that won't happen. I'll take a shower and eat breakfast instead. I'm actually not sure about the rest of the day. I think Tonya wants to rearrange my class schedule."

  Dan tensed slightly when he heard Tonya's name. He was trying to hide it, but Andrew could tell Dan was afraid of her. Seeing him uncomfortable gratified Andrew. At least somebody else wasn't entirely happy with the situation.

  "Then I'll see you after your lesson," Dan said. "We'll figure out your schedule then. Here, take the rest."

  He gave the box of donuts to Andrew and walked out of the room. Andrew closed the door.

  Seems like a nice enough guy, he thought. I hope I'm not getting fooled again.

  * * *

  Andrew arrived in the basement of the Fine Arts Building. He was a few minutes early for his lesson, but Charley was already there, waiting in front of the seam chamber. Snug jeans looked great on her, and the heels of her soft black boots lengthened her already long legs. She had chosen an orange sweater today, perhaps because Halloween was only a few weeks away.

  He looked at the heavy steel door protecting the seam chamber. The door had reinforcing straps and appeared strong enough to withstand a battering ram.

  He could feel the seam pulsing violently on the other side. He wanted to soak up all that crazy energy and make magic with it. His heart beat quicker in anticipation of his first lesson. He was so excited, he wanted to dance.

  Andrew looked at the keypad. "Do you know the code?"

  "No." Charley shook her head.

  "Why not? How long have you been her student?"

  "Since the summer before last. We're not allowed inside without Tonya. It's a safety issue, and sorcerers are very protective of their seams."

  "I'm getting that impression," he said. "How many seams are there?"

  "I'm not sure. Not many, and this is one
of the biggest."

  "And we can't do any sorcery without being near a seam?"

  "Only very minor stuff," Charley said. "Tonya can actually create tiny illusions, and that's extremely impressive. She's very powerful. Working without a seam is called 'cold sorcery,' but it's almost never done."

  "Like the magic tricks last night?" Andrew said.

  "No, that was just ordinary sleight-of-hand. Knowing fake magic is a good way of hiding the real stuff. You tell people it was just a trick. A number of professional magicians are sorcerers in disguise, and there are probably a few the BPI doesn't even know about."

  He was glad to hear the BPI wasn't all-powerful. He already knew they were going to be a pain in the ass.

  "How do seams form?"

  "It usually takes a disaster," Charley said. "A lot of people have to die, and it helps if a sorcerer is one of the victims. Most seams are anchored to a physical location like this one. The mass of the Earth stabilizes their position, but once in a while, you get a portable seam."

  He raised his eyebrows. "What are those?"

  "That's when a seam attaches to an object that can be moved around. They are very rare and very valuable because they allow a sorcerer to use his power anywhere. Usually, it's a crown or a jewel, something people fight over."

  "Have you ever seen one?"

  "No." She shook her head. "The BPI keeps them all under lock and key. The government doesn't trust sorcerers who are that mobile."

  "A shame." Andrew frowned. "Do seams last forever?"

  "No. The universe heals, but the bigger they are, the longer they last." Charley leaned forward and whispered, "The ultimate seam is called a living seam..."

  Tonya approached at a quick pace. Her black tunic and loose pants struck Andrew as traditional yet modern.

  "Hi, guys." She flashed a smile.

  Charley closed her mouth and blushed.

  Tonya punched in a long sequence on the keypad, and she blocked it with her body so Andrew couldn't see. She yanked open the door with both hands.

  As before, two BPI agents were waiting inside. They had circles under their eyes, and Andrew wondered how long they had been stuck there. They left without a word.