by K. M. Herkes
Basically she saw past externals to essentials. It made her a visual clairvoyant according to the DPS tech who’d assessed her as a B-8 and assigned her twelve weeks of paid training, but her mentor said her particular variant was unusual. Most clairvoyants saw things or events. Valerie saw truths.
Fortunately for her, there were disciplines helpful to mastering any visual talent. She’d walked away from her last session a week ago with a graduation stamp on her DPS certificate, a career guidebook, and a file full of job listings.
She knew how to identify and interpret what her eyes told her now. Turning that knowledge into power would be harder. There was apparently a tremendous demand for sight that offered insight. She could work with engineers or geologists, politicians or psychologists—the sheer number of choices overwhelmed her with what-ifs and the potential for failure.
Eventually she might find the courage to fill out one of the applications, but making her work environment more comfortable was enough for now. Jeff had been a lot less handsy since learning Valerie was poz and a rollover.
He didn’t respond to her taunt now. Instead he squatted down to put broken china in the tub. Valerie ignored his muttered clumsy bitch. He was helping, and that meant she could straighten up to ease her aching back muscles before they locked up. She was still tired, sticky, and embarrassed, and it didn’t feel like much of a victory.
The Marine stared at her from his counter seat. He knew. He knew he was dying, and he knew Valerie could see it. Her gaze went to his insignia. Private First Class Fredericks wasn’t from 29 Palms after all. The badges were for Oasis Company, Mercury Battalion. That unit only accepted factor-positives whose rollovers brought them powers too dangerous to entrust to the civilian training programs.
The median age for rollover was fifty-five. Fredericks couldn’t be more than twenty. Early onset meant early burnout; that was the death sentence he carried around inside himself.
Valerie stood up and spoke around the lump that swelled in her throat. “Order whatever you like,” she said, because food was all she could give him. “It’s on me.”
“It sure is on you,” he said with a flashing grin. His wink at the stains on Valerie’s uniform made her smile in spite of herself. “Here,” he added, “let me help.”
A column of water fountained up from the mess on the floor, becoming a miniature cyclone that scooped everything off the floor and left the tile dry. Jeff squeaked in surprise and sat back on his ass. The waterspout deposited the remaining food and dishes in the bus tub, whirled across Valerie’s feet with a cool kiss of wetness that lifted away the soaked-in coffee, then dove into the tub. A small wave splashed over the crotch of Jeff’s trousers before the rest disappeared.
Valerie dropped her wet towel onto the dishes. Jeff scrabbled away crab-wise. The wet patch made it look like he’d wet himself. Valerie carried the tub away to the kitchen so she didn’t burst out laughing in his face.
“Thanks,” she said to Private Fredericks.
Jeff followed her through the swinging door, but instead of cornering her and yelling, he returned to the grill. “You take care of him,” he said as he picked up the scraper. “He’s your kind. Stay away from us.” Then he yelled through the serving window, “Nance, you get Val’s tops and tips. She’s taking the bar.”
When Valerie came out, the Marine was sitting alone at the counter with one eyebrow arched and a smile held tight between his lips. He’d obviously overheard the whole conversation. Nancy hurried away to check on the booth who’d lost their food. Valerie silently wished her luck. The school rowdies were one of the few groups who hadn’t left after the Marine’s power demonstration. They were giggling and snapping pictures a lot more obviously than they thought they were.
Private Fredericks thanked Valerie when she set a mug of coffee in front of him beside a glass of water. She said, “Sorry for the fuss. I mean it, about the food. You didn’t have to out yourself in front of everyone like that just to help me.”
“Oh, I live for those moments,” he said. “I love watching assholes—sorry, ma’am—jerks like that man trip over themselves to get out of my way. I’m juvenile and incorrigible, or so my CO tells me.”
He had a smile just like Gary’s. He was brown, not fair like Valerie’s baby boy, and his eyes were dark instead of twinkly pale, but it was the same grin made of crooked teeth and pure mischief. Valerie’s heart fell into a bottomless pit. For the first time in her life she finally understood all the horrible fads her mother had inflicted on her in the vain hope of lowering her R-factor risk. It had been done out of ignorance yes, but also from a primal fear born in love—the same reason Valerie had kept her Poz status secret these last years. She would do anything to save her son from this man’s fate. Anything.
She said only, “What’ll you have?” and waved at the menu board.
“Steak and eggs’ll hit the spot,” he said. “Been driving since dawn. Can’t tell you how good it is to see a friendly face, and after I went and got you in trouble, too. You’re a real sweetheart.”
Valerie added a few extras to his order slip and stuck it on the spinner. “Order in.” Then she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so sweet. You made my day with that splash.”
“Well, good.” Fredericks buried his grin in a sip of his coffee, and then looked around, nodding greetings to the brave few souls willing to meet his eyes. The cup clinked on the saucer, and he gave Valerie a more thoughtful look. “You’re what, a clairvoyant? It’s something eyes-on. Yours flashed real bright. And I bet you’re still fresh, cuz you looked like you saw a ghost. You can see I’m hitting burnout, huh?”
Valerie flushed. Polite people didn’t discuss things like that around here. Maybe in private, when there were no nulls around to make uncomfortable, but never in public.
She glanced at Nancy, who was bussing one of the recently-vacated booths, and then she flung caution to the winds. Maybe she shouldn’t care so much about people who didn’t respect her. If this soldier barely older than a child could handle a few stares, why couldn’t she?
“I’m a diviner, yes,” she said. “And new to it. I only passed my field test last week. I came over cool, so I didn’t even know I’d rolled until someone told me, and I’m settled at B-8. Not too powerful, but yes, I could see you’re—you know. I’m sorry.”
“I rolled cool too,” Fredericks said cheerfully. “Caught right at the start. Da thought we had a leaky pipe. Plumber was a low-power waterboy, saw right away it wasn’t natural. There was some yelling, and next day I was off to camp.”
“You poor thing.”
“Coulda been worse. One of my squad rolled hot, start to finish before she knew what hit her. She worked desk at a car dealership on the coast. Called a fifty-foot wave through the front windows and killed five Porsches. And I’m stronger than her, so it’s good I was in uniform before I peaked. What about you? How’d you find out?”
After stories like that, how could she resist sharing? “I was at the carnival.”
She told her tale, and showed Private Fredericks pictures of her boys, and he was in the middle of another amusing anecdote when Jeff slammed food onto the serving shelf. “Order up!”
Nancy grabbed most of the plates and hurried away. Valerie slid a steak, scrambled eggs, toast, hash browns and a fruit bowl in front of Private Fredericks—after squinting at everything to make sure Jeff hadn’t added anything nasty.
Describing what she saw was nearly impossible, but she had the knack of it; the food was clean and wholesome. She poured a glass of juice and refilled the coffee, and then watched in awe as the private inhaled all the food faster than she would’ve thought possible.
“So you’re a diviner, huh?” he said around a mouthful. “That include dowsing? If it does, you should think about the Salton project. That’s what brought me out here. I start work tomorrow. You know about that?”
The Salton project was a government water management venture that in
volved three rivers, four Federal and two state agencies, and an ever-changing cast of administrators and politicians. Someday, the story went, southern California would have its own sustainable water source, large enough to supply both its booming population and vast agricultural investments.
Water had to be found to be managed, which was the reason Valerie had multiple requests from Salton in her collection of job openings. Her ability to sense what lay hidden from sight was exactly what the project managers needed. No amount of dirt or rock would hide water from her, not if she worked in tandem with people who controlled those materials.
“It’s in the news all the time up here,” Valerie said. “I hear they’re hiring in a lot of people. I got some offers in the packet with my DPS certificate.”
“You don’t sound too excited,” Fredericks said. “Too far away? Too much paperwork? Don’t like salt and mud?”
He grinned with the third guess. Valerie had to swallow and look away again. She had no good excuses. The new dig at the north end would only be an hour commute. She wouldn’t even have to drive. A shuttle from a stop downtown to encourage housing development away from the worksite. Even the lowest salary she’d seen listed would be enough to quit both jobs, and she would save on gas and car maintenance if she used the shuttle.
It could change her whole life—and that was what scared her. How would the boys react to another big change in her life so soon? And her mother? The boys had taken the news of her rollover in stride—although Johnny was disappointed about her lack of a tail—but Mom was barely speaking to Valerie as it was. Keeping the boat of daily life rocking steady was easier than risking new failures. What if a new job didn’t work out?
What if she wasn’t good enough? She admitted, “I don’t know if it’s right for me. I’ve made so many mistakes in the past. If I choose wrong I could screw up my whole future.”
Fredericks mopped up a smear of meat juice with a crust of bread and tossed back the last of his coffee in silence. Valerie realized how insensitive she must’ve sounded. Her new abilities had thrown her life into turmoil, but she had a future to worry about. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think.”
He looked up with a smile that glowed from the inside. “Nah, don’t waste tears on me, honey. I was thinking hard, is all. I never thought of it being scary. Me, I’ve had a good run, and I plan to leave my mark on the world before I go, so Salton’s perfect for me. It’s gonna be historic.”
“What about your family? Don’t you want to be with—?” Valerie stopped when pain licked up like black flames in Frederick’s eyes.
“No, ma’am, nobody at home wants me back.” He shrugged it off. “The Corps puts us on terminal leave like it or not, Salton has a standing request for any H-series who wants to moonlight. I’m H-3A. One of the strongest water callers alive right now.” He flexed his biceps and struck a pose. “Maybe they’ll name a ditch after me.”
“Maybe.” Valerie blinked, dazzled by the intensity of the courage Fredericks took for granted. In one dizzy, breathless instant she found in herself what she saw in him, and an idea sparked to life. “Do you have a place to stay yet?”
“No.” He slumped down on the stool, all the bravado gone. “I’ll scout once I get there. Housing’s tight, I know. I can sleep rough outdoors for a bit. Won’t be the first time, and it’s not like I have to worry about showing up dirty when I check in tomorrow. Everything I own is wash ‘n wear.”
Valerie could not allow him to spend this night or any other sleeping in sand. Her tiny idea-spark blazed up and became bright determination. “I have a better idea. You’ll stay at my place tonight, I’ll ride with you to the dig in the morning and get one of those historic jobs for myself. What do you say?”
His brow furrowed, and he frowned. Valerie spoke again before he could protest. “And you’ll crash with us until you find a place you can afford, too. My eyes say you’re a good man, and I’m supposed to trust my talent. Don’t tell me you’re scared of me.”
“Ha! Should I be?” He shook his head, and that fast, he was light and bright again. “Well, I won’t say no.”
“Good. Let’s get out of here.” Valerie removed her apron, entered the meal into the cash register and put a twenty in drawer. “Yo, Jeff!” she shouted through the window into the kitchen. “I quit. Happy now?”
Nancy’s stricken reaction almost made her feel guilty. Remorse withered away when the woman said, “Quit? Without notice? You can’t do that to us.”
Watch me. Valerie didn’t dare issue that challenge out loud. Burning bridges wasn’t in her nature, and trusting her eyes was simpler than trusting this fragile sense of confidence. She took a last look at Nancy’s bitter soul and big hairdo, curled her lip at Jeff’s fearful cowering, and she marched out the door into her future without saying good-bye.
She should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy to leave the past behind. Nothing in her life went according to plan. The crash didn’t come immediately, no. The happy hopefulness lasted almost another full night before fate’s hammer came down on her.
The boys practiced their phone manners on dinner invitations to Lizard-Jen and Purple-Gwen as they’d dubbed their mother’s new best friends, and Valerie invited a few of her old friends who were still speaking to her. Gwen brought over her own son, and all the boys ran around shrieking like banshees until Jen threatened to bite them and everyone laughed.
The apartment was so small that a handful of visitors packed it full. The layout—two bedrooms on the outer side of a hall, tiny bathroom and kitchen on the interior, living room at the end—was efficient for a small family, but had no space to spare, and it overheated fast. Every unit in the aging complex had the same problems. The electrical wiring was too unreliable to support decent air conditioners, and they couldn’t get a decent breeze. The balcony doors had been sealed years ago, after the rickety wood balconies were removed.
No one complained, though. There were iced drinks for the adults and ice pops for the kids, and they left the entry door open to the building hall to create a draft. The party clustered in the kitchen, as parties usually did, everyone helping or offering unhelpful suggestions on the best way to put together salads and tacos and bake a frozen pizza.
The meal was made with groceries Private Fredericks had insisted on buying after he said, “Call me Dante, ma’am. You’re doing enough. Let me give back a little, please.”
A few drinks into the dinner preparations one of Valerie’s high school cronies teased him about his literary name. That led to an unexpected discussion of poetry and drama in which many puns were made, more laughter ensued and the children heard, we’ll explain when you’re older a lot.
Mom sat sullen and silent in her recliner with a tray the whole time, ignoring all attempts to include her in conversation. She’d done that most evenings since Valerie’s rollover, but not even her frowning unhappiness could spoil the party mood. The time passed quickly, with the conversation kept light and many assurances issued that Valerie would have her pick of jobs as a professional at Salton. She memorized every one of those promises, because with every passing hour she wondered harder if she had made the right choice.
Once the guests left, the boys were far too wound up for sleep. Valerie was ready to smother them with their pillows when Dante came to the bedroom door with a stack of the clean dinner dishes Valerie had left to air-dry despite Mom’s grumbling about germs and clutter.
“I have little brothers,” Dante said, and he looked so wistful that Valerie waved him into the room.
“You can have these two,” she said, only half-joking.
“Not SLEEPY!” Johnny announced, and he bounced on the upper bunk so hard Valerie was afraid he would fall off. Gary pulled the covers over his head in the lower one and started to wail. Dante sat on the floor and placed two cups on plates. “Every minute you hooligans sit still and quiet,” he said, “I’ll add a layer.”
Water burbled up in the cups, then jumped from cup to plat
e to cup, splashing high without ever overflowing. Johnny climbed down and curled up beside his brother, which gave Gary enough courage to peek. They sat very still while Dante built ever-taller creations for the water to dance through. It was a marvel to watch, but Valerie decided to take advantage of the respite to get Mom settled.
Mom was in a mood. She fussed about brushing her teeth, she whined about being helped with the toilet, and then she decided to be chatty while Valerie put up her hair for the night. “It’s bad enough that you’re poz,” she grumbled. “I’m trying to be tolerant, and you know I love you, but do you have to bring those freaks here all the time? And now you’re inviting men overnight while the boys are at home? Honestly, Val.”
“Honestly, Mom, what’s wrong with you? He’s sleeping on the couch, and you know it. You’re the one who taught me the Bible verse about hospitality to strangers.”
Mom sniffed. “People like him don’t deserve charity.”
Rather than deal with any of the nastiness packed up in that statement, Valerie said, “Please, Mom, let’s not fight. I know you’re trying hard.”
“I called John Senior,” Mom said a minute later. “I told him. About you. They’re his children too, so I thought he had a right to know about the diagnosis.”
“Oh, Mom. Why?” Valerie knelt beside the bed and took Mom’s hands in her own. Chills ran up her spine and down her arms, leaving sweat in their wake. Her ex-husband was a criminal and a drug addict, but he was also suave and charming. People made excuses for him even when he robbed them blind. “Is this why you’ve been so unhappy lately? Why did you call him? He hit me. He hit Johnny. We’re not supposed to have any contact. There’s a restraining order. I explained this.”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears. “I know it was a mistake now. I never liked him, but you kept flaunting yourself, and I was so angry. You need to be more humble. I wanted to teach you a lesson. I forgot how mean he could get.”