Seers

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Seers Page 12

by Kristine Bowe


  “What do you know about my memory loss?” I spit the words out as fast as I can to stop her from going on to her next point. Does she know something about my past? Does she know why I cannot remember my life?

  “I know that you have a very limited memory. And I know why. You are a valuable Seer. You not only go in; you also take out. Seers need you if they want to possess what is in someone’s brain rather than just look at it. Think about it. You go in and Extract this information from my father, and it isn’t his anymore. He doesn’t know it, can’t recall it. And only the Preceptors would have it.

  They need you, rings in my ears. Right. I am more powerful than Seers. Because I am a Seer. And an Extractor. I never really thought of it that way.

  “They needed you to need them,” she goes on. “And you do need them if you have no one to rely on because you can’t remember your life, if you need someone to put the pieces together for you, if you have no one else to turn to. Tobias was able to be that for you. He pretends to know what will make you stronger, what will help you regain your memory, if that’s possible, so that he can send you on missions without question, so that you will work blindly for him, and so that you will trust him. But I have to tell you that I have reason to believe that it is Tobias who is responsible for your stolen memories.”

  This isn’t the straw that breaks the camel’s back. No. This camel is dead. Gone. Pulverized. I am spinning. Too many things are turning upside down. First she tells me Tobias would be stealing the information I Extract from Dr. Kuono and this mission has been a lie, and now she tells me that Tobias is the one behind my stolen memories? He’s not only plotting against me now, but he has always been against me. Every meeting, every conversation, every piece of advice has been a part of his plot. Like fattening the veal calf for Easter dinner.

  “Tobias?” These words escape like the last whistle of air from a deflating balloon.

  “Leesie, I’m sorry. I’ve given you a lot to digest. I know this is hard for you—”

  I interrupt her: “Hard for me? What do you know? Are you Reading me or something? Anything that was easy about my life must be in the parts I don’t remember. I can deal with hard. What I’m having a difficult time dealing with is the fact that you are telling me to change everything. I have to change the way I see everyone. You, this mission, Seers, Preceptors, Tobias. He has taught me so much, given me a place to live, provided—”

  “Provided what exactly? Mission after mission? Is it he who has given you so much, or is it you who have been working nonstop to learn at a rapid pace in order to be ready for this mission? Let me ask you, has he offered any explanation about your missing life? Your family?”

  I can tell by the look on her face she is not asking me questions. She is proving her point. I meet her eyes.

  “No. He says I just came to him one day. He’s been trying to gather information on me—”

  “That’s a lie.” Eri spits the words, half growling.

  Her words hiss through the space between us and bite into the nagging part of me that doubted Tobias’s explanations, or lack thereof, all along.

  “How do you know? How can you be sure?” I half demand, half plead.

  I need cold, hard facts now. If she is going to turn my life upside down, if she is going to talk me into doubting, challenging, rejecting my Preceptor—something that is just not done in the world of Seers—she is going to have to start producing evidence for her claims.

  “The night my father discovered the secret behind Extraction, I went to see my dad at work. Something I never do. But this day was the day. I had decided to tell him about my being an Aurae.

  “I developed the ability around eight. I aged into it, I guess. I have done some research, and there are a lot of us out there. Anyway, at first it was faint and slight, just a little color around someone’s head if they were in a heightened emotional state. As I got older, it got stronger; the colors became brighter. I began to understand them and use them. I became lost in them for a while, distracted. I lost focus at school and in my activities. It caused a rift between my father and me. He is so success-driven, wants so much for me. So I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to tell him that day that I am an Aurae. That I was okay. That I was going to be everything he wanted me to be and more.

  “When I walked into his lab, he was hunched over his papers with his head in his hands. He was nodding his head yes and shaking his head no at the same time. Next to him was a glass box, and it had something in it. Lights shone around it, and it was hooked up to electrodes. When I walked past it to stand in front of my dad, the box began to glow brighter. Green but mostly yellows. The rays floated and wafted out of the box and around my dad.

  “In the box was the brain of a Seer. It was the brain my dad had used to conduct his research. The brain was hooked to electrodes and without a body to conceal my power to project color and possibly because of the electric current, I don’t know, but it lit up the room. My dad could see the colors. Only Auraes see the colors of a person and can Read their aura. But this exposed brain was lighting up the room! Of course he freaked! His specimen Seer brain was glowing! I immediately explained why and what I am. So for my father, the memory of the discovery and the memory of my being an Aurae are so close that they are one in that layer. This is the reason the Preceptors do not have the discovery yet. The memory is a jumbled mass they cannot clearly See. That’s where you come in. Their hope is that an Extractor will be able to make it discernible.”

  “I had no idea that was possible, for memories to get stuck together,” I say.

  “Neither did I.” She lets out a tired laugh. She stretches and steadies her eyes in front of her as she decides what to say next. I break in before she can continue.

  “You keep saying ‘secret behind Extraction.’ And Tobias keeps saying Dr. Kuono’s discovery that ‘will change the world of Seers.’ So what is it? What is this all about?”

  Eri takes a step toward me, and we lock eyes.

  “I don’t know exactly, Leesie. My father won’t tell me. He won’t tell anyone. Anyone who knows the details behind his findings can be Navigated by a Seer and the information would be leaked. All I know is that his discovery is a formula. It’s the key to what sets the brain of an Extractor apart from the brain of a Seer. With it, Preceptors will be able to transform Seers’ brains. They will be able to create Extractors.”

  “Create Extractors? Why?” I weave my fingers into my hair, holding my head.

  “Think about how much more power you have as an Extractor. Think about how different it is to view someone’s memories versus stealing them. You could erase someone’s memory. Someone’s life. Now imagine Preceptors having the formula behind Extraction. Think of the power. And then think about it in the wrong hands.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh. Extraction is not a power all Seers should have.”

  “And what makes you this expert on Extraction?” I challenge.

  “You are not the only Seer of your kind, despite what you have been led to believe,” Eri responds quickly. “I know one and so do you.”

  Okay. This sounds like evidence.

  “It’s Luke.”

  As soon as the words leave her lips, I realize that I am not shocked, not even surprised. On the contrary, I find myself relieved. This explains his connection to Eri. And his connection with me. We share something in common that up to a second ago, I didn’t think was possible to share with anyone. This changes things for me. Suddenly the fear of him faking a connection with me vanishes. Just the idea of discussing Extracting with someone who can do it overshadows anything else I feel right now. I feel validated, empowered, and less … alone.

  “This makes you happy,” Eri says as she peers at me. She sounds as if she’s mulling this over. This may not have been the reaction she had been expecting. She continues to watch me. She seems to be looking around me, not into my face directly but into the space around me. She’s an Aurae, I remind myself. She Reads
in colors, Reads auras.

  “What color am I?”

  She smiles a little. “You’re pumpkin orange floating in a sea of purple.”

  “Is that good?”

  “For you? Yes.” Eri chuckles again at my expense.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I lean forward, frowning. When did I become so hilarious to her?

  She laughs again. “You’re on fire, Leesie. All the time. Most people are blues and greens when they’re calm. Your calm is a cooled-off red, sometimes a pale orange, but I’ve never seen you green. You are always somewhere between contained rage and moderate annoyance. It amuses me. I think it’s because you try so hard to feign an air of collected nonchalance.”

  I hate knowing that there’s no point in denying my moods to her. Color rushes to my cheeks as I think of all the times I must have pretended not to care or be annoyed by something, and she knew I was secretly bubbling.

  “So I run hot. Got it. And what’s the purple?”

  She smiles again, a sly, slow smile. “Purple is content, blissful, enamored, passionate,” she says.

  Eri locks eyes with me. She knows. And by the look on her face, I believe she wants me to say it.

  “Oh.” I look down.

  “Oh?”

  “What?” I shrug and look off past her.

  “What do you mean ‘what’? Leesie, you know I can Read you. I have been Reading you since you got here. I know how you feel about him.”

  “That’s news, considering I still haven’t figured it out.”

  She smiles again. It’s good to see her smiling. I have to wonder if she feels like she can relax, let loose around me a little, now that I know what she is. But this makes me realize how many more questions I have.

  “Tell me about being an Aurae.”

  She settles into her position at the counter. She leans toward me, shifts her weight from one foot to the other, tilts her head to the side, and starts: “I see people’s faces, bodies, gestures, as you do. But then I see around them. Everyone projects colors that signify mood and general disposition. Greens and blues, I told you, are calm, relaxed colors. Purples are passions. Reds are frustrations, anger. Yellow signifies fear, distrust. Shades in between allow for the mixing of moods and emotions. I see shades as well: whites and blacks.”

  She pauses and searches me, checking for understanding. She had me until the whole “shades” business. She senses my confusion.

  “People shade themselves if they are in a state where potential action trumps emotion. They will look like they have thrown a sheet over themselves. This happens usually when they are ‘ready to pounce,’ so to speak. The motivation behind their actions shields any color from showing through. All I can tell then is whether their actions are motivated by positive or negative force, if they are good or bad. Like you when you were trying to Navigate me.”

  Crap. I knew this was going to come up. I knew she would demand an explanation as to why I felt it okay to violate her trust and violate her brain.

  “And?”

  “You don’t have to ask me, Leesie. You know why you did it. I know why you did it. I know you were trying to help me, help your Preceptor, and help the mission. I know you care about me.”

  Her words rush me in a warm gust. I lean on the counter to steady myself. I am shocked by the amount of relief her words bring.

  “I have known since you got here that you would find your way to the truth of this mission. That you would choose sides. You have chosen sides, haven’t you?”

  My gut tells me I have. My gut has always told me, I guess. All those questions, all those times it didn’t feel right. And this group feeling like friends, like family. But …

  “But what does that mean, Eri? What does choosing sides mean?”

  “It means a new mission. It means us. Us fighting to keep critical information from landing in the wrong hands, in the hands of dangerous Preceptors. Us. You, me, my father, and Luke … against Tobias and everyone working with him.”

  I was already on a side until a few minutes ago, and that’s been working out so well… .

  As much as I think I trust Eri and Luke, I can’t help but wonder if I am jumping out of the path of an oncoming car by crossing into another lane of traffic instead of heading for the safety of the side of the road. The question is, who’s on the side of the road waiting for me? No one. So I join them. Otherwise, I’m alone.

  Chapter

  Eri had taken my nod to mean I was in. My head was moving in allegiance to her before my brain could catch up. My heart was in it before I could think it all through. I guess I have known for a while now whose side I was on.

  What’s funny is, now that I think back, I wonder what was at the base of my loyalty to Tobias. I was puppeting what is expected of Seers, I suppose. I was given my expectations and guidelines and was blindly obeying. “Here is your Preceptor, Elise Felton. Here is your life from now on, Elise Felton.” And I opened my arms and took it. What else was I supposed to do? But I search myself for real feelings of gratefulness or affection for Tobias or the few other Seers I have met at the Philadelphia headquarters. I have none. All business.

  Add to that what Eri tells of the Preceptors in charge, of Tobias. He has been sending me on missions to evaluate my skills. He has been calculating my strengths to gauge if I am ready to Navigate for what he really wants. He has been using me.

  And he is responsible for wiping out my memories. But how? He can’t Extract. Can he? Now that I know Luke is an Extractor, the door is wide open as to how many of them exist. If Tobias cannot Extract, maybe he sent someone after me who could.

  That one hurts. Using me because I am valuable? Seems feasible if you are a power-hungry freak, which apparently he is, but stealing my life? How cold, how heartless, how evil, is that? Have I been missed by loved ones? Do they watch the news, read the papers, and post flyers, holding on to some remote possibility that I am out there somewhere? Did I have brothers, sisters? A best friend? A boyfriend? I don’t know at the moment which is more painful: the fact that my memory loss could be devastating lives or the fact that I have been willingly working for the man who has devastated mine.

  I kick a stone off the sidewalk as I move swiftly down Delaware Avenue. Away from Eri’s. Away from Alsinboro Academy. In the other direction. Away from the center of Preston toward the outskirts and into a neighborhood I’ve never bothered to traverse.

  I needed a minute. I needed some air. Eri was calling Luke. She was asking him to come over right away. She wanted us to discuss things further. She wanted me to hear Luke’s side, she had said. He has details to provide me with. Details about his mission. Details about his plan. That makes sense, but clearing my head takes precedence over anything else. So here I am. Walking alone and going nowhere. I know that in a few minutes I have to turn around and head back. There is no avoiding the next step. And I don’t want to avoid anything. In fact the more I stew, the angrier I become. I am intimidated, yes, by the idea of going after my Preceptor, but I know I’m “red,” as Eri says. I know I run hot. I know I will not shy away from the opportunity to fight back. But Tobias has always seemed so smart. He always seems to have all the answers and to know what to say to focus me or correct me. I have to get used to thinking of him as a liar. I have to get used to the idea of having to try to beat him at a game he says he’s only begun to teach me.

  In front of me at the end of a tree-lined street is a house the color of an avocado. It has mango-colored shutters and stained glass in the front door. A herringbone-patterned brick walkway directs my eyes from the sidewalk to the front porch. I continue my gaze up to the second-story windows, where I can make out the wispy lines of lace curtains. Up the roofline, left of the chimney, sits a rooster atop an arrow. This weathervane, its bright copper hidden under a pale green film of patina, turns slightly to the right as the wind picks up. I stare at it as it mocks me, and then I laugh out loud at the irony of this bird. Yeah, rooster, I see you. I’m turning. I’m turn
ing.

  And I do.

  As always my brain is in overload. When I should be reeling from all I have found out today, I end up thinking about nothing or noticing everything or, like now, taking in the architecture. I shake my head, determined to focus.

  Luke is an Extractor like me. With that information comes a new plan. Luke’s mission that will somehow protect Dr. Kuono’s information and take out Tobias. A mission that according to Eri cannot be completed without me. Fighting with them means I get more time with them. I let this possibility plant roots. I let myself get excited. It seems too good to be true that I will continue to have this group on my side as my friends and as close to a family as I have. Whether they think that strongly of me is irrelevant, considering they have other people in their lives that care about them outside this group of friends. I do not. These feelings were bubbling under a closed lid before this afternoon. Now I get to take the lid off the pot and leave the water boiling rapidly. The steam can escape and cloud my future with possibilities of listening, lounging, laughing, loving… .

  My stomach flips and pings as if there’s a beginner band student in there beating the mess out of a triangle and calling it music. Because he will be there. I will see him in a moment. And he will talk to me. Really talk to me. Confide in me. The perplexing nature of our connection is now replaced by the inevitability of it. The depth of it. Eri telling me someone is like me, and not just anyone—Luke. This changes everything. She took the jokers from the deck. Now we’re playing cards.

  In front of her house, I look for Luke’s car. It’s not parked out front. It’s not in the driveway. He’s had enough time to get here from school. Where is he? I am too amped up for idle time. Where else does he have to be that’s more important than this? I hope he doesn’t think I’ll sit around and twiddle my fingers waiting for him to show up on his prized steed. I’ll go get my own horse. I can feel the frustration frothing in my stomach like it’s capping off a cappuccino.

 

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