But this is dark. Thick. Like beef stew. Chunky and dense. I can make out globs in front of me. But I have no idea what the globs are, who they are, if they are memories or obstacles placed strategically in my way. The globs are cold and thick like pudding. I paw at them, half trying to get them out of my way and half trying to see if I can grab on to them to move them if I need to. My fingers sink in, but when I close my hand, the goo slips through my fingers the way the whites of an egg slip around the yolk. I am left only with an unexplainable ache in my hands.
This isn’t right. She isn’t right. In the head. She isn’t right in the head? How can this be? She’s Eri. She’s normal. She has an above-average functioning brain that should be easily Navigated. This is an easier Navigation than even the first mission Tobias sent me on. So where are the layers, then? Where are the usual finish line dividers that direct me deeper down? I don’t even know which way is down. And why can’t I See?
Despite the increasing burn I feel in my eyes, my thinking clears and I remember the Navigation where I had no idea which way was down. I had no idea where the layers divided. I couldn’t See well. There were obstacles in my way. It was the missing-child Navigation. The aunt of the missing girl. The aunt I could barely Navigate. Because she was mentally ill.
I reach out instinctively to steady myself, forgetting that these chunky globs will offer me no support. I surge forward instead. Mentally ill? There is no way Eri is mentally ill. I would have known. Someone would have known, someone on the mission at least. Tobias? He would have been privy to that kind of information. There would have been signs, right? She can’t be. A sudden panic surges through me as I imagine the worst. What if no one knows? What if I am finding it out right now?
As I careen toward hulking globs and churning gray and brown swirls, I know that my thoughts are swirling just as fast. Am I finding the answer? Is this the key to Eri’s inability to excel at the pace her dad has set? Is it because she lacks the wherewithal to achieve because of something wrong with her brain?
The fear of this being true sends a sinking rush into my stomach like the sink you feel when you inch over the summit on a roller coaster to make that initial drop. That an-alarm-clock-is-going-off-in-my-stomach feeling jolts me. But quickly, the jolt fizzles. No way. Not true. Something is keeping me from believing that Eri is sick. But what? I just know is the only answer I come up with. I just know.
Eri’s brain is not like the aunt’s brain. It’s not as cold. It’s more gray, less brown. These globs … they’re not attacking me. They don’t have to. They’re defensive. They’re blocking, but not aggressively. It’s like they know, this brain knows, Eri knows, that I can’t get in. In the aunt’s brain, I couldn’t tell which way was down or where the layers were divided. It felt like the needle in a haystack cliché. I was searching for something that I knew was in there despite the challenge. But here I’m not searching. I’m walled in. I’m not in a hallway navigating through doors to find the answer. I am in a hall closet, closed off from not only the rooms that hold the answers but from the hallway itself.
So Eri’s brain is not sick. But if she’s not mentally ill, why can’t I get in? And then it’s there. The flutters and pangs of panic are replaced with a booming thud in the gut. I know why I cannot Navigate Eri. And I know it’s not because something is keeping me from going in. No. Not something. Someone.
The only two scenarios in which a being cannot be easily Navigated, Tobias says, is if the being is mentally ill or if the being has been trained against Seers.
Trained against me? Eri has been trained against me? How does she know about me? About Seers? The thud in my gut turns into a wave of nausea as my mission explodes in my head. The burning in my eyes isn’t unbearably dangerous yet, so I stay partly because I can’t gather myself enough yet to get out and partly because I can’t imagine, can’t grasp, can’t stomach, the fact that I have to face Eri in a matter of seconds.
She won’t know I was in. They never do. Wait. I cannot expect the outcome of this Navigation to be like any other. She is not a “they.” And all of a sudden I am faced with a new unknown. I think of the state the aunt was in at the end of my only guarded Navigation. If she had been aware that I was in her brain, she was in no state to articulate it. She was too busy shrieking at the realization that she had murdered her niece. And she was guarded because she was sick. But Eri? Eri’s not sick. She’s lucid. She’s trained. I have to get out of here.
I take the leap. What else can I do? I have no answers anyway. I close my eyes and I am out. Instinctively my hands go to my eyes. No bleeding this time. Why would there be? I wasn’t in long enough to do anything. I floated around in globs and went from mildly freaking out to full-fledged mania. Awesome.
“You okay, Leesie?”
Even with my hands over my eyes, I know. By the way she holds on to the kay, by the way she adds my name, by the way there is no real concern in her voice. She knows. I was in her brain and she knows.
“Yep. Fine. Thanks.”
I take my hands from my face and drop them to the table. I have yet to raise my eyes to meet hers, and when I do I get what I expect. She’s staring straight at me. I’ve been in full freak-out mode for what seems like forever, so I almost can’t tighten up any more. But suddenly I don’t feel so tense. I don’t feel panicked or unsure or vulnerable. I drop my shoulders, pull my arms back, and rest my palms on the table. I can feel my stomach surging. I am not freaking out anymore. No. Now I am furious.
I hate when I feel backed into a corner. I have always understood why a caged animal will lash out and gnarl the hand that attempts to free it. At this moment I want to attack. I don’t want to hear her side, not right now. Right now I want to run until I am far from any human, and I want to scream and pound the earth and throw things and let this sink in. I hate that I never have a moment. I hate that I always have to collect myself. I hate that I failed.
“Leesie?”
I ignore her.
“Leesie?”
No. Do not talk to me. “Leesie!”
“What? What, Eri? What!” I spit the words at her. I imagine they are shards of glass. If she would leave me alone, give me a minute to compose, to figure this out, maybe I’d remember that I liked and trusted her a few minutes ago. But if she’s going to jump right into an interrogation, fine. Bring it on. But this is going to hurt.
Her eyes narrow as she takes in my tone, the look on my face, the way I am poised with elbows bent, hands down, ready to pounce. Her hand goes in the air.
“Mrs. Tiller? Mrs. Tiller?” She’s waving her hand now and turns in her seat toward our art teacher who is at the back of the room leaning over a sculpture on someone’s table. “Mrs. Tiller!” The last urgent call pulls the woman up. “Leesie’s, uh, sick. She says she’s nauseous. May I walk her to the nurse? Please?”
Eri is stern and pleading, respectful and demanding. Mrs. Tiller is convinced.
“Yes, of course, dear. Please do. Take care of her, Eri. Feel better, Elise.” Mrs. Tiller waves to the table next to ours to put away the supplies Eri had begun to set up. I guess she doesn’t expect us back. Fine by me. I feign a weak and wounded wave and follow Eri out the door.
As she crosses the threshold and steps out into an empty corridor, I look down at my feet. My right foot is about to cross the same threshold. I will be alone with Eri in a matter of seconds. In a matter of seconds she will turn to face me. Will she speak first? Will she expect an explanation? Does she need one? If she has been trained to keep a Seer out, then she is aware that Seers exist. So I won’t have to expose that, but does she know about the mission? Does she know about Tobias and my placement here? Has she known all along?
Before I am completely past the doorway, she speaks.
“Get your stuff. Walk immediately to my house. We will not speak until then.”
I am taken by the tone of her voice. It’s almost authoritative. She calls these words to me over her shoulder. She never turns around. She
never slows nor quickens her pace. She doesn’t turn left to E corridor, where our lockers are. She walks down the flight of stairs in front of her, towards the side door that exits to the staff parking lot. And she’s gone.
Sweet, insecure Eri? Yeah, right. Ninja-brain, tells-me-what-to-do Eri is more like it. All this time I was treading lightly, loving my place here, dreading a betrayal of Eri’s trust. I was afraid to make a move, afraid to hurt her, afraid to Navigate her, and I was powerless against her all along? Are you kidding me? I do not like to lose, but what I hate more than anything is to be made to feel outplayed, defeated, and weak.
On the way to my locker, I make the conscious decision to shove everything that is in my arms now on the bottom shelf and grab only my wallet and keys. My focus on school is shot, so homework will not be an option anyway. Plus I need to go there with no baggage, nothing on my shoulders or in my arms. I need to feel ready for anything. After all, something tells me I will be meeting the real Eri in a matter of minutes, and I don’t know what she is capable of.
Chapter
The walk to Eri’s is quick. I force my brain to focus on passing cars, colors of houses, barking dogs, anything. It’s when her house looms in front of me that I curse myself for not capitalizing on the precious minutes that have passed. I should have been strategizing on the walk over here. I could have been planning my opening should she leave it to me to talk first. It turns out I don’t have to worry about that. She’s at the side entrance door, waiting for me. She has one hand on the doorframe; the other holds the door open, beckoning me in. I study her face as I stride up the walkway. I try to decipher her expression. Is it one I have seen before on the face of the Eri I knew? Her eyes are narrowed, and her brow is creased. Her lips are in a straight line, but she doesn’t appear angry. She definitely looks serious though, whatever her mood.
“Hurry up!” Eri calls in a clipped, curt tone.
I breathe in as much air as I can. I loathe being told what to do. She’d better watch it. I don’t answer. I refuse to obey verbally or otherwise. As a matter of fact, I slow down a little. I never avert my eyes. I stare her down, attempting to let her know that I may not have gotten into her brain—she may have beaten me there—but I will not roll over. She has been given no title, no crown. This match is not over. She seems to sense my resistance. Her brow smoothes out a little. No smile, but she seems to soften.
I guess it would have been weird to lock eyes inches from each other as I brush by her into the house, but her staring straight ahead as I do is so cold. It leaves me feeling as if I am passing a stranger, an enemy, and it hurts me to think of Eri this way. I feel an instant pang in the gut as the possibility that I may lose her, or may have already lost her, bubbles to the surface. I continue to the counter to steady myself and will some of my fire back. I am better when I am angry. I am no good gooey and sensitive and worrying about friendship.
She shuts the door, and I hear her approaching. I do not turn. I do not look at her. No. You look at my back now.
“Leesie.”
Her tone is calm. I have so many questions that I cannot bear to be stubborn. I cannot bear to ignore her. I pivot to face her. The air is thick between us, as if we’re standing in a cloud.
“You’re angry,” she continues. “I’m not.” She lets the words settle. She’s looking into my eyes, into the space around my eyes.
Not sure what to say, I say nothing.
“I have been waiting for you to Navigate me. Now we can talk.”
“What? You’ve been what?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to Navigate me.”
Again she lets the words settle. She waits for me to gather my thoughts. It’s as if she can see me wrapping my brain around what she has said. She knew I would Navigate her? How long has she been waiting? And why?
“You have been sent here on a mission to Navigate my father. My father puts too much pressure on me. It has been taking him away from his work. He is on the cusp of a breakthrough that will change the world of Seers. Getting me in order will enable Dr. Kuono to focus on that breakthrough. You weren’t making enough headway. You decided to Navigate me for answers. You hoped the information you gathered from me would enable you to Navigate him sooner and more effectively. Is this an accurate description of your mission?”
Who is this and what has she done with Eri?
“Yes,” I answer with as much authority as I can, considering I cannot feel my legs.
“Do you have any questions about this mission?”
She’s leading me. I can feel it. But I have no idea where.
“Questions? What do you mean?”
“Is there anything about this mission that has you doubting its validity, its motive?”
“No.”
“No?”
My mind is reeling. I rifle through the past twenty-four hours. Back in my apartment on my chair, I sat questioning my next move, my feelings for the group, and my feelings about the mission. What conclusion had I come to? Had I come to one? What questions had I asked myself? I couldn’t reach them now. It was muddled like the cup of water used to clean paintbrushes. It was cloudy and an indescribable mix of colors inside my head.
“I am not the focus of this mission, Leesie.”
“You’re not the focus? What are you say—?” I don’t bother to finish my question. It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to connect the dots. She is telling me who the focus is by omitting herself.
I drop my eyes, nod once, and then raise them again to meet hers. “Why?”
“You know why. What haven’t you been told?”
She doesn’t need to say any more, and she knows it. It’s always been there. That nagging question. That piece of doubt. Why all this trouble about the girl? Why the fuss over the daughter who seems to be doing okay despite the normal teenage self-doubt? Why Navigate the father to fix her? Unless I was meant to Navigate the father for a different purpose. Navigate the father who is working on a breakthrough that will change the world of Seers. A breakthrough I know nothing about.
It’s true. She had never seemed broken enough. She seemed disgruntled, sure. But what teenager isn’t disgruntled at some point? She has a family that loves her, an amazing group of friends. Besides, I was supposed to be moving into more challenging, more dangerous missions, Tobias had said. So why the human-interest story? Why all the fuss about a girl’s feelings? A girl who happens to be the daughter of a neuroscientist. And a neuroscientist working on something that will change the world of Seers, at that.
I nod again. “So what haven’t I been told?”
“You are not Navigating to help, Leesie. You are not Navigating for me, to make me a happier girl and my father a more focused worker. We’ve established that. You are Navigating my father to steal something from him to deliver into the hands of the Preceptors. You see, my father is not on the cusp of a breakthrough. That is just what you’ve been told. You are to know as little as possible about the real mission. The truth is, my father is desperately trying to keep safe the information you are trying to Extract.”
She pauses. She’s awfully good at allowing me to process information.
“My father was approached by a group of Preceptors over a year ago,” she continues. “They exposed themselves as Seers and asked him to work for them. Naturally a neuroscientist who finds out that the brain is capable of far more than he could have ever dreamed jumped at the opportunity.
“My father began working with a brain, a Seer’s brain, experimenting on the nature of the power of Navigation and Extraction. What he discovered, though, he soon realized cannot end up in the hands of Preceptors. Fortunately I was there to connect his memory of that discovery with a discovery about me.”
Okay. Now she better pause.
“What? Back up. What discovery about you? Connected how? How do you know all this?”
“The day my father sat in his lab poring over months of testing was the day I told him what I am.”
I don’t b
other to ask the obvious. I raise my eyebrows and wait.
“I am an Aurae. I read emotions, intentions, the way you read brains. Only I see it in colors. Hear it in waves.”
“What?”
“Surely someone as smart as you didn’t believe she was the only being with powers, the only possibility of it?”
“I had hoped, I guess.”
This makes her laugh. “Yeah, I bet you did. That doesn’t surprise me. Only Leesie is powerful. Right.”
I am being mocked, and yet I love getting a glimpse of the Eri I know returning.
She goes on, “My father’s memory of that day is linked to me because of the shock of his realizing the truth about powers of the brain, both the powers of Extracting and my power of Reading. They will not be a separate memory in that layer. You go into that moment to complete your mission and Extract, and you will have his motivation to protect me and the secret behind Extraction.”
“And I was supposed to believe I was taking only the memory that leads him to overprotect you. I would have the Seers’ secret without knowing I had it?”
I was catching up.
“Yes. And that information would have been taken from you.”
“How? By whom?”
“By your Preceptor, Leesie.”
I am so sick of the word what.
“What?”
“You are in danger.”
Danger?
Being a Seer has always been a thing I could do. I used it to find things out, to help people, to help myself. Truth be told, sometimes I used it to amuse myself. I enjoyed playing around in people’s heads, having an edge. I had never thought of it as something dangerous. Bleeding-eyes dangerous, yes. But that’s just a physical drawback to the gift. She’s not talking about that kind of danger, is she?
“The discovery my father has made, if placed in the wrong hands, could put all Seers in danger. You completing this mission successfully for your Preceptor puts you doubly in danger. Once they have what they want from you, your place in the world of Seers is questionable. You would be a liability. No one would want a connection to me or to my father to get in the way of the Seers’ use of the discovery. In the worst-case scenario, you would be disposed of. In the best-case scenario? The memory loss would be extensive, and you have lost so much already.”
Seers Page 11