Intuition t-2

by C. J. Omololu

  Griffon looks surprised. “It’s just easier if you stay out of this.”

  “But what about Veronique? What if they found what they were looking for?”

  “We have people all over—we’ll be able to figure out who did this. And to stop what she’s created from getting into the wrong hands.” He hesitates. “Look, Cole, it’s just better for everyone if you stay invisible for now. Once you’re in the Sehkem, there’s no turning back. You need this time to transition and develop your skills. That’s what I’m trying to give you—more time. Now quit being so stubborn and take it.”

  I’m about to protest when I stop. I can see the truth behind his words and how intensely he believes in them. He’s trying to do this for me. “Okay. For now. But . . .” I’m about to ask him to call me when I remember where we are, who we are to each other now. “Make sure Janine calls me.”

  “I will.” He looks relieved. “Now go.”

  I run back down the hall and push the elevator button. The one on the left opens almost immediately and I get in, pushing the button for the ground floor. Before the doors can close, I hear the other elevator ding and a rush of footsteps as people get off. I push myself into the corner as I see the backs of several men rush down the hall. Just before the sliding doors meet, Giselle stops in midstride as if I’d shouted at her and turns to look directly at me. I catch my breath as the elevator jerks and starts down, my reflection barely recognizable in the metal doors.

  “Staying in tonight?” Mom asks as she passes my doorway.

  I look up from my laptop. “Yeah. I’m tired.”

  She leans against the doorframe. “It’s been a tough couple of days, hasn’t it?”

  I laugh, thinking about how much she doesn’t know. How much she’ll never know. “I haven’t been sleeping much.”

  “Well, now that Rayne’s on the mend, that should get better. Do you have any lessons tomorrow?”

  “Not until eleven,” I say.

  “Good, you can sleep in. I’m going to go watch the late news if you want to come sit with me.”

  “Maybe I will in a minute,” I say. I turn back to my search as she walks down the hallway. I’m trying to see if Veronique belonged to any clubs or hung out with anyone that might give a hint about who might have beaten us to the lab. For a brilliant young biochemist, she has a surprisingly small Internet footprint. I’m scanning through some entries about her research in college when I hear Mom shout from the living room.

  “What?” I say from the doorway.

  “Quick!” she says. “Come in here!”

  I rush to the living room in time to hear the reporter say “. . . cause of death is unknown at this time.” He’s standing in a marshy field lit by spotlights, and I can see airplanes taking off somewhere behind him. The headline scrolling down below reads “Body of Young Scientist Found Near Airport.”

  “Authorities say a search of her laboratory has so far turned up nothing, although that is the last place where she was seen earlier this afternoon. Anyone with information about this case is asked to contact the San Francisco police department.” The reporter signs off and the screen flickers to another story.

  “That was Veronique!” Mom says. She looks stricken. “They said that they found her body this evening, but they don’t say what happened.”

  I stare at her, unable to think of anything to say. There was a lot of blood at the lab; I should have seen this coming. I wonder if they got what they needed from her. “I don’t believe it.”

  Mom puts one hand to her mouth. “Me neither! She was such a nice young woman. They were just here a few months ago—remember, she played piano for us? So talented . . . it’s such a waste.”

  I nod slowly. I know I should be feeling relief—Veronique’s gone and she won’t be bothering us again, at least not in this lifetime. But all I feel is numb.

  Mom looks up at me. “I wonder if the boyfriend had something to do with this. He was nice enough, but I always felt that he was a little shifty. Most of the time, things like this have to do with people you know.” She shakes her head sadly. “Still, it’s such a shame.”

  “It is,” I agree, not knowing what else to say. It’s much safer to have Mom thinking that this is some sort of domestic-violence case. Not that she would ever guess the truth—that as crazy as she was, Veronique unlocked the secrets of Akhet transition. And that knowledge got her killed.

  Twenty-One

  Janine isn’t telling me the whole truth. I can’t read her all that well over the phone, but even so, I’m sure there’s something she’s hiding when she calls this morning about Veronique. She said all the stuff I’d expect her to say—that the Sekhem are on top of it, that I should just sit tight and wait for news, but there’s something deeper behind her words. It’s been over a week since we’ve had an empath lesson, and I’m thinking it’s time to schedule another one—I’ll be able to find out more if I see her face-to-face.

  I’m checking my phone again when I see Drew walk in the front door of the studio. I duck my head and pretend I don’t see him through the glass of the practice-room door, focusing on the piece in front of me and my fingers on the strings. I glance up again and see him walking back toward the exit, surprising myself by opening my door and calling out to him. “Drew!” The instant the word is out, I regret it. I don’t want to encourage him. But I need to feel connected to other Akhet right now, and he’s about the only one left who actually wants to see me.

  He spins around and looks at me sheepishly. “I was just leaving you a note.” He nods toward the front desk. Rebecca waves a piece of paper in my direction, her eyes following Drew’s every move. I walk over and grab it from her.

  “It’s an invitation,” he says. “To a party at my new place on Friday. I figured coming here was better than stopping by your house.” He looks right into my eyes. “And you haven’t been returning my calls.”

  I glance over and see Rebecca hanging on his words. I walk back toward the open door of the practice room and motion for him to follow. No harm in being seen with him here this time. I fold the invitation in my hands. “Sorry about that; it’s been kind of crazy lately.”

  “How’s Rayne?” He seems genuinely concerned.

  “Better.” I hesitate. Janine said not to tell anyone about what happened with Veronique. Even though I’m sure Drew had nothing to do with it, I decide to listen to her. “Looks like they figured out what kind of infection it was and how to treat it. I’m going to the hospital as soon as I get out of here. I think they’re going to let her go home soon.”

  “Good! I’m really glad.” He nods toward the invitation. “Well, Portia Martin’s coming back into town for a show this weekend, so I thought I’d have some people over,” he continues. “A little housewarming dinner at my new place. I’d love it if you’d come.”

  I glance back at the closed door, but everyone seems to be minding their own business. “Some people? Like the people who were at the club?”

  Drew grins and sits down at the piano bench. “Yes. Mostly Khered. It’ll be a good opportunity for you to meet other Akhet. People who might be able to help you in this lifetime.”

  I’ve been thinking about Frank and the different Akhet I met with Drew that night. I know what Griffon and Janine think about them, but they all looked so content and happy. Still, accepting the invitation feels like some kind of betrayal. “I’m not sure I can make it.”

  Drew pokes at a few of the piano keys. “Too bad.” He looks up and smiles at me. “But I understand.” He puts his hands on the keyboard and plays a few chords, expertly and without hesitation. This isn’t his first time at a piano.

  He nods toward the cello. “Have you been playing?”

  I shrug. Not like he has any stake in it. “A little. It’s a right-handed cello that . . . that they made for me.” It feels wrong to even say Griffon’s name in front of Drew.

  “Cool.” Drew plays a few riffs. “We should play together sometime.”

  I sh
ake my head.

  “Not in front of anybody. Just for fun.” Drew’s fingers hover over the keys, and then I hear the first few bars of “River Flows in You.”

  I take a step toward the piano, my heart pounding at the familiar notes. “Stop.”

  Drew lifts his hands off and the sound vibrates through the small room. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Why?”

  “Just . . . not that song.”

  “You don’t like Yiruma?”

  “I do. It’s just . . .” My mind leaps back months, back to when things were normal and my biggest concern was what to play at the next concert. I exhale. “That was the song I was working on with my partner before the accident. Before . . . all of this started.” That was a lifetime ago.

  Drew’s concern gives way to a smile. “It’s one of my favorite contemporary pieces.”

  “Mine too.”

  He reaches over and grabs my chair, turning it to face the wall. “There,” he says softly, sitting back down at the keyboard. “Don’t play it for me. Or the people out there in the studio. Play it for the wall.” He strikes the first note. “Play it for you.”

  “I can’t.”

  “How do you know?” Drew closes his eyes and plays the introduction while I stand there, not moving except for a slight swaying to the music that I can’t control. When he gets to my part of the piece, it feels hollow and empty without the cello, like a dance partner who’s all alone in the spotlight. He pauses and then starts over, the notes of the introduction filling the room, and my fingers itch to follow along, to balance out the soft, high notes of the piano with the mellow, rich sounds of the cello strings.

  I sit down and pick up the cello, thinking that I’m just going to follow along in my head, show my fingers where they should go and what they should do. Which is why I’m as surprised as he must be when the first notes reverberate out of the cello and into the air. I face the wall and close my eyes, feeling nothing but the strings under my fingertips and the waves of music as the cello notes wind and twist with the delicate sounds of the piano. It’s like being in another world as the music surrounds us in the tiny room, softening the hard corners and weaving together the fabric of the song, strong and solid, while at the same time so fragile that it disappears through your fingers like the smallest puff of smoke.

  Too quickly the song ends, and tears are falling from my eyes onto the dark wood of the cello. I wipe them away, but I can feel Drew watching me.

  “Right,” he says, and I can hear the emotion in his voice as he clears his throat. “We’re going to miss you on Friday.”

  I feel the air pressure change as he opens the practice-room door, and by the time I turn to look, the hallway is empty and Drew is gone.

  The rest of the morning is torture, and I can barely focus on anything until I’m standing outside of Rayne’s room. They moved her out of ICU and onto a regular floor, and my prayers are answered when I push open the door and see that the bed next to hers is empty. I need to tell her what’s going on before she starts having memories, and I need to do it in private.

  “Rayne?” I call, knocking on the door frame.

  “Hey! Get in here!” she calls from the other side of the curtain. Her voice is raw from the ventilator, but otherwise she sounds almost back to normal.

  “How are you?” I squeal, bending into her outstretched arms as she squeezes my neck tight. The Akhet vibrations I’m getting from her are unmistakable, and relief rushes in. Despite everything I’d insisted to Janine, there was still a nagging corner of doubt that I might have been wrong.

  “SO much better!” she says. “My circulation is still funny, so they’ve still got me hooked up to some drugs, but that’s nothing compared to how it was.”

  “You’re right,” I say, pulling the chair in the corner up to her bed. “Because it was bad.”

  Rayne’s face gets serious, and I can hear the noises from the hallway in the silence between us. “You have to tell me everything. Griffon was here with Peter, but he’s being weird. He keeps staring at me and touching me on the arm, but he won’t tell me anything, even though I know he had a lot to do with fixing this mess.”

  “Hang on,” I say, and get up to close the door. I sit back down and look at her face. She looks the same, open and trusting, but I know everything has totally changed. Janine said not to tell anyone, but Rayne isn’t just anyone. She’s the pin on which everything else pivots. There’s no other option, so I tell her everything. Everything except the fact that Veronique’s crazy plan worked. Everything except the fact that she’s now Akhet.

  Rayne doesn’t say much until I’m done, just nodding her head here and there, like pieces of a puzzle are falling into place. “So Veronique’s actually dead?” she asks with tears in her eyes.

  “Yes,” I say, finding that I feel surprisingly unemotional as I describe what happened and the news reports that followed later that night. At one point I had so much hatred for her that all I wanted was to see her dead, but now I just feel empty. “Don’t waste a tear on her, though. She almost killed you.”

  “I know,” Rayne sniffs. “But she didn’t mean it. She only did it because she loved Alessandra and thought there might be one last way to be with her again.”

  Alessandra. I have to find out if Veronique was right. I lean toward Rayne. “There is something else,” I say. I try to think back to the day at the slide when Griffon told me about being Akhet and what he said. But I was ready for it then, ready for some sort of explanation about what had been happening to me. Rayne doesn’t have a clue. “Have you noticed anything different lately? Has anything changed?”

  Rayne is about to answer when we hear footsteps in the hall.

  “Hey there! So good to see you!” Rayne’s mom says, pushing the door open and setting a bag down on the tray at the foot of the bed. “I brought Rayne some food from El Balazo, but there’s plenty to share. What are you two all huddled up about?”

  “Nothing,” I say, sitting back in my chair. Rayne looks at me with a question in her eyes. “We can talk about it later, it’s no big deal.” In a way, this is better, because once I tell Rayne, it can’t be undone. Her world is going to change soon enough—I might as well let her have a little more normal.

  Twenty-Two

  I didn’t know this many people could fit into Janine’s office.

  That’s my first thought as I open the door to find it full of adults I don’t recognize. “Sorry!” I say, glancing at the clock. I’m sure she said to come at two, but a faculty meeting must have run over or something. I start to back out the door when Janine stops me.

  “Cole, come in! We were waiting for you.”

  I pause. That doesn’t exactly give me a good feeling. “You were?”

  “Yes. Sit down.” Janine indicates an empty chair over by the sofa. Her face is impassive, and I’m getting nothing from her movements about why I’m here. This must be what a trip to the principal’s office feels like.

  As I walk into the room I spot Griffon, and the familiar jolt runs through me. I keep thinking it’s going to get better, but it doesn’t—that combination of longing and loss hits me every time. He’s not sitting down, but leaning against the windowsill in the far corner looking tense, like he might get up and leave any minute.

  I take my seat and decide not to offer up any guesses about what’s going on here. There’s the guy Christophe who was at Griffon’s house that day, along with Janine’s friend Sue and two other men that I don’t recognize. Giselle is nowhere in sight.

  “We’ve been discussing the situation with Veronique and Rayne,” Janine says. “And the others felt that it was time to bring you into our little group. See if there are ways you can help us out.”

  “Okay,” I say, in my best noncommittal voice.

  The Asian guy with long, dark hair leans forward. “We heard you were invited to a Khered gathering.”

  I see Griffon flinch, and Janine tilts her head in irritation. “Tetsuro! Seriously.” She turns to me.
“Sometimes even centuries of living can’t force some people to learn manners. Or patience.”

  I start to rise out of my chair when I realize what he just said. “You mean Drew’s party? You’ve been watching me?” I suddenly feel creeped out as I look around. How did they do it? I didn’t tell anyone about the invitation.

  Janine puts her hands out and tries to calm me down. “It’s okay. Just a little harmless poking around—nobody has a hidden camera on you, I swear. Things are just a little tense right now, and it’s best to keep tabs on everyone’s whereabouts.”

  I sit back and fold my arms across my chest. “I don’t like anyone poking around in my business.”

  “We’re sorry. It’s as much to keep you safe as anything.”

  Suddenly I get what Griffon was saying about time. It feels like in one split second I don’t belong to myself anymore. That whatever I do is part of something bigger. I look at him, but he won’t meet my eyes.

  “Let me make some introductions,” Janine says. “You’ve already heard from Tetsuro. He and Christophe have been working on fuel cell technology in Switzerland with Griffon, but just transferred down to South Bay. This is Eric.” A blond guy with glasses gives a little wave from the sofa. “And you’ve met Sue.”

  Sue smiles at me. “What Tetsuro was trying not-so-tactfully to say is that your new connections in certain Khered circles, along with what we know are impressive developing empath skills, could be the perfect combination to help us with some research.”

  And then I get it. They don’t have any idea who trashed the lab or who killed Veronique. Despite Janine’s assurances, they’ve come up empty, and somehow they think that I can help. “You want me to spy on Drew and his friends?”

  “ ‘Spy’ seems a little heavy-handed,” Christophe offers. “We prefer to look at it as observing with a goal.”

  I stare at him. “Call it whatever you want, I’m not sure I can spy on anyone, or that it’s going to help you at all.”