***
The lights suddenly flickered on in her room the next morning. It went from total darkness to stark white in one second. She opened her eyes and squinted, stepping up to the glass at the front of her room. She saw several people in white coats walk past her. How many people do they have down here? she wondered.
Beyond them and to the left she saw the tree, now in full view. It was across the corridor beyond another veil of thick glass, and it was perhaps one of the most unusual things she had ever seen. It was the central part of a large garden that stretched two stories above them. She stared at this beyond the people who walked past and looked in at her.
A moment later, the door slid open behind her. She twisted around, pressing her back against the thick glass. The door was a giant slab of what Jane presumed was a heavy metallic compound; it had a small window at the top centre. She doubted, even with access to her psychokinetic abilities, that she would have been able to break through it—not without a severe headache, anyway.
Jane approached the door. She could hear footsteps approaching in the hallway beyond it. Lucas came from around the corner and smiled at her; it was a fake, cardboard-looking grin.
“Good morning Jane,” he said cheerily.
She looked at him sourly without responding.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
She stared at him for a moment, then asked, “What am I doing here?”
“Well, you’re dangerous, Jane. I think you proved as much on the street outside your home.”
“How did I do that?”
“You endangered a man by using your supernormal ability to alter the course of his vehicle, resulting in a car crash.”
“That’s not what happened…”
He put his hand up and she stopped speaking.
“I’m not getting into this conversation with you. You attacked me as well.”
Her jaw dropped open in stupefaction, and she glared at him. “You were pointing a gun at me!” she growled.
He looked down at the transparent tablet in his hands and checked something. He glanced up at her briefly after a moment, without responding to her exclamation. “You’ll find clothing in the bathroom,” he said, indicating the room on his right. “Change into them, please. That will be your regular attire while you’re here.”
“How long do you plan on keeping me here?”
“Until we learn to control this…unusual activity in your mind.” He turned to leave.
“You can’t control it, Lucas,” she spat back, not knowing where the words came from and not having planned to say anything. He turned back and glared at her.
“Yes we can.”
She decided not to pursue that line of conversation, knowing she was right, but also knowing it would lead nowhere. “You and I both know I didn’t do anything dangerous, Lucas.”
“But you did display a dangerous streak, Jane,” he said. “You took control of that man’s car, changed its trajectory, and caused an accident. Change into those clothes please. You should go to the cafeteria and eat something. Breakfast is served for one hour only.” He turned and walked out of the room.
She stood there, her jaw gaping open. Thoughts formed and begged to be vocalized, but nobody was left to hear them. Lucas was distorting the facts about her situation, and she understood then that her predicament was more difficult than she first thought. She considered not changing into the clothes as a form of protest, but knew it probably wouldn’t do any good. She would have to wait to find out more about the facility and her situation before expressing dissent of any kind.
After Lucas left, Jane reluctantly changed into the white clothing. There was an optional white overcoat that stretched to her ankles, and she decided to wear it, noticing a slight chill in the air that flowed across her bare feet. She slipped on the simple shoes that had been provided for her.
A few moments later, Morris appeared at the entrance to her room and smiled. He was tall with sandy brown hair, a strong, angular face and a muscular, lithe frame. She felt a slight surge of adrenaline run through her when she looked at him. He was wearing the simple white garments that practically mirrored her own, though he was not wearing the overcoat. He extended his hand confidently and smiled.
“Good morning,” he said cheerily. “It’s nice to have you here, Jane.”
She hesitated, then stuck out her hand awkwardly like a stick to shake his. “Same.”
“Come with me. We’ll go and get breakfast.”
He motioned for her to leave the room, so she followed him into the corridor. They walked down the hall that contained their bedroom doors and entered a central section. On the ceiling were sophisticated-looking fluorescent lights. There were large red bulbs in every corner, obvious against the stark white background.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked as he led her through the corridor.
She was groggy and the bright lights felt intrusive.
“I suppose so. I’ve never really talked to anyone like that before.” She realised the slight lie in this—she was omitting information about Max—but she knew it was far too early to bring him up. They reached a central section; looking around, Jane saw a series of four corridors that met at this cruciform point.
“Yeah,” Morris said. “Not too many people out there with strong telepathic control. I only ever talked to a few growing up. It was good when it happened, though. We’ll have to compare notes.” He turned to her and smiled again as they continued walking straight ahead past the cross section.
“I suppose so, yeah,” she said, returning his smile tentatively.
The Ethereal Vision Page 24