Foreseen (The Rothston Series)

by Smiles, Terri-Lynne

  As our time drew to a close, Mel wrapped up her often irrelevant tales of these people I didn’t know. “I know you are humoring me by honoring my request to teach you this lesson, Kinzie,” she said at the end. Her tone had an edge of disappointment, but no condemnation. “I am an old woman. And this wretched disease makes me ramble. But I thank you for your kindness.”

  My throat tightened. “I will miss you, Mel.” I tried to stop my eyes from watering, quickly brushing away the tears. “Will I ever see you again?”

  She patted my hand. “No one knows what the future will bring,” she said with a wry smile. “But my plans are to move to California in a month or two, so I can spend my time with my children and grandchildren … while I still remember who they are.” Her smile faltered on the last words, and a tear rolled down my cheek at the sadness that filled her eyes. She patted my hand again, and forced the smile back to her face. “Now then, do you have any last questions for me as your teacher?” she asked to allow us both to regain our composure.

  I glanced at the list on the table. “Why this?” I asked just to keep the conversation going. “You went through a lot of trouble to hold this lesson. Why is it important for me know who were members of The Seven and when?”

  Mr. Jamison chuckled beside her. “Our middle school students ask the same question,” he told me. “They are required to learn the entire list and be tested on it, much the way fourth grade commons memorize the U.S. Presidents.”

  “Yes, that is true,” Mel agreed. “But we will not make you memorize them. I simply saw this as a gap in your education. I …” she hesitated for a moment as her brow knotted. “I keep thinking there is a reason this is important for you to know, but when I try to focus on it, the reason eludes me.” She looked back up at me and smiled as she let the thought go. “For whatever reason, I felt this was important, and now I can be satisfied that I have performed my duty fully.”

  Marci Lee appeared at the door a few minutes later to help Mel back to her quarters. I stared out the empty doorway after they’d gone. Seeing Mel that way was even harder than I’d expected. She was still Mel most of the time, but then at others she was definitely confused. I’d wanted to reach over and nudge her when she’d gone off on her irrelevant rambles, but Mr. Jamison shook his head the first time I tried. He’d spent most of the hour with his head dipped and his eyes closed, looking like he’d wish Mel’s Alzheimer’s away if he could. Whatever their philosophical differences, this was hard for him too.

  Now he gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you had to see her that way. Melvina was a great woman, and I can tell you’ve become fond of her.” I lowered my head, unable to speak for fear of unleashing the tears again. “This is simply part of life, Kinzie,” Mr. Jamison continued softly. “The comings and goings. And as hard as it is, it is a necessary part of life. Mel has served Rothston faithfully for a generation. She has well earned her rest, and makes way for a new era at Rothston.”

  I snuffed back the tears. “I’m worried about Rex being on The Seven,” I told him to change the subject.

  Mr. Jamison gave me a kind smile. “You and Rex seem to have your differences, don’t you?”

  I bit my lip for a moment, wondering how to explain my concerns without him thinking I was petty. I looked him in the eye. “I don’t like Rex,” I admitted. “But that isn’t what bothers me. I told you what he did to a guy at school and what happened to Jake Brady. Rex is reckless. He doesn’t think through the consequences of what he does.” I paused for a moment, knowing I wasn’t saying anything new to Mr. Jamison. I tried again. “With Rex on The Seven, you will be able to modify the Minimal Intervention Policy. There’s a lot of good that Rothston could do if it doesn’t wait for a crisis – like have businesses make decisions that will create jobs or stop the needless bickering in Congress.”

  “Stop the bickering?” Mr. Jamison repeated with a jovial laugh. “But the partisanship keeps them from doing anything dangerous. Easier to keep a handle on them that way.”

  I grinned for a moment, acknowledging the truth of his joke, then returned to my point. “But there need to be constraints. We don’t know everything. We can’t just override others because we feel like it. Someone needs to keep an eye on Rex. He doesn’t get that. And I don’t trust him.”

  Mr. Jamison nodded. “I appreciate your concern, Kinzie,” he replied with a serious tone. “I have known Rex since he was four years old. I am well aware of his short-comings – and his strengths,” he said, rising from his chair.

  I rose as well. “But …”

  “Don’t worry. I will watch Rex and make sure he doesn’t lead us astray,” he assured me as we moved toward the door.

  “Thanks. I’ll watch him from my end too.”

  “I appreciate that,” Mr. Jamison said, winking at me. “But I’m sure I can handle it. Now, you better head down to the library, or your friends might think you’re slacking off,” he added with a laugh.

  With that, we parted ways, but I was left feeling uneasy as I trotted down the granite hallway. Maybe it was just from seeing Mel’s deteriorating mental state, or from this place changing just as I’d gotten used to it. But I kept thinking it was more. Rex was dangerous – I’d seen it with my own eyes. Yet, no one believed me. It was like Mr. Jamison had said, they’d all known Rex since he was four years old. Maybe their fondness of the talented kid had blinded them all to the monster he’d become. But it was so blatant. How could I be the only one to notice? But then I remembered, I wasn’t the only one. My heart thudded hard in my chest and I drew to a stop in the hallway. Greg had seen through Rex instantly.

  I picked my pace back up, forcing thoughts of Greg from my mind. It was over. Permanently. I had to accept that. And accept that it had been my own fault. Or Rothston’s fault. Or whatever. There were times I still couldn’t believe what was happening. The beginning of freshman year felt a thousand years away. Or maybe more like a totally different time and place. Everything had changed. Reality itself had been stood on its head and was still standing there upside down, grinning, except the upside down smile was a frown.

  I stopped at a bench in the hall as one of the high school classes let out and students spilled from the doorway. Curtis Mechenbaum waved and gave me a big grin as he approached.

  “You made it!” he chirped happily.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said sarcastically, and Curtis laughed.

  “Better not. That’d be a major faux pas around here. And we wouldn’t want to hurt Brolie’s feelings.” His voice dropped on the last part so no one could hear him. Still, I marveled. I didn’t see any of the jitters Curtis was plagued with around the others.

  “I’m here for Mel, Curtis. To honor her, not Rex,” I confirmed as we sat down on the bench. “I wish they’d picked anybody but Rex to replace her, or that there was some treatment so Mel didn’t have to retire yet. Maybe Rex would screw up and they’d see what he’s really like.”

  “That’d be nice,” Curtis agreed with a tone that said it was unrealistic. And I knew he was right. He looked up at the weak March sun streaming in the stained glass of the window. It bore the image of a woman holding a hawk, and a chivasta formed the background behind her.

  “You know what bugs me?” Curtis asked without moving his eyes from the window.

  “What?”

  “Brolie’s been bragging for a year that he’d be on The Seven soon. I figured he was just full of shit. But now Mel steps down. I mean,” he paused and studied me to gauge my reaction. “If I hadn’t seen Mel … well, you know … if I hadn’t seen her like that, I’d put money on Rex somehow making it up, just so he could get his way.”

  I sighed with resignation. “I wouldn’t put it past him. But I don’t see how he could,” I pointed out. “I mean, he’d have to be following her, and he’s been at school.”

  Curtis’s eyes took on a conspiratorial gleam. “Or he could have someone here telling him where she was and what she was doing. He cou
ld influence her if he knew that.”

  “But …”

  “Think about it, Kinzie. Everybody loves Rexy,” he trilled sarcastically. “A lot of people would do whatever he asked. People like my cousin.”

  Despite the determination on his face, it seemed farfetched to me, but as I thought about Molley fawning over Rex, I had to concede it was possible. And Curtis looked downright excited by the prospect. “So we keep our eyes and ears open,” I suggested. “Nothing else we can do unless we catch him in the act.”

  Curtis agreed, rising from the bench. “Man, I’d love to be the one to burn his ass,” he said with relish. “I’m going to make sure I do.”

  I smiled grimly and shrugged. “But who are you going to tell?”

  ψ

  “Sasha, don’t walk so fast,” I whined, wobbling on my shoes. Sasha, in her slinky, backless dress, was two paces ahead of me, balancing perfectly on her set of tiny spikes like twin phonograph needles.

  She grinned as she watched me catch up. “It’s a good thing you don’t dress up much. Nobody would ever notice me,” she teased, trying to make me feel better.

  Sasha had sorted through my entire closet at Hutchins as we’d packed for spring break, but nothing had met with her satisfaction for me to wear to the Ascension Ceremony. “This isn’t a high school dance,” she’d told me when she’d tossed aside the dress I’d worn to the Gala. You need to wear something really nice.” I could have saved her the trouble of searching; I knew I didn’t have anything better than that dress. And when she let me borrow what I had on, I was pretty sure that “better” in her mind meant more sophisticated – or maybe more revealing. I squirmed as the long, black velvet clung to my sides. As tight as it felt on me, I couldn’t imagine how Sasha ever stuffed her boobs inside. I glanced down at the small rise of my own, peering out of the v-neck. This wasn’t me, and I wondered what Greg would have thought of it.

  “What’s wrong?” Sasha asked, and I felt a stab of pain in my forehead. I winced and brought my hand up quickly. It stopped immediately. “Sorry,” Sasha opined, “Habit. But you’re really better off without him.”

  “So this is just speeches, right?” I grumbled, glaring at her.

  “Yes. One or two people who worked in the areas Mel oversaw will talk about whatever they’ve accomplished under her leadership – maybe a member of The Seven will too. Then Mel will address the crowd. After that, Rex gets ascended and then he speaks.”

  “Anointed is more like it,” I muttered.

  Sasha ignored me. “After that comes the party. It’s all a blast, Kinzie. The speeches are a big deal and all, but Ascension parties make anything that goes on at school look completely lame.”

  An undulating roar, like ocean waves reached me while we were still in the hallway. My heart stopped for a moment, then stuttered in panic as I thought about how many people it would take to make that kind of noise. My heel wobbled and my hands flew out to steady myself as we entered the main vestibule. Tuxedoed men and women in elaborate ball gowns were spilling out from the library doors and a cacophony of voices with every regional accent, and several foreign languages, blared like trumpets in my ears.

  “C’mon,” Sasha squealed, dragging me forward through the logjam at the door. The heat of the bodies was suffocating as I slid against them, and the sea of taffeta and sequins, fake laughter and cologne was spinning like a whirlpool, threatening to pull me under. My vision began to cloud and I closed my eyes, willing myself not to pass out, although part of my brain begged for the safety of oblivion.

  As I felt myself slipping, cool air splashed onto my face and filled my lungs. I opened my eyes to find a pocket of open space – not large, but no one was pressing around us. I carefully looked around. There were a lot of people in the library, but it wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. Loose clusters of attendees were scattered around the massive room, but the high ceiling dulled the voices and cooled the room. Sasha had overestimated the number of people. Hundreds, certainly. Maybe a thousand, but the room easily accommodated them all.

  “Mind if we go up front?” I suggested to Sasha so I wouldn’t have to see the throngs. She grinned and sashayed her way forward, stopping every few feet to introduce me to someone whose name I would never remember. Each time, I kept my eyes over the person’s head, blocking out everything else. And each time the conversation was almost the same. I was her roommate who had translocated the oak library tables to prepare for this event. All of them were beyond impressed, which I’d expected, and many of them teased me, asking what the commons were supposed to do if I took away the harder tasks.

  We reached the front of the room where the commons had set up a stage under the watchful eye of the stained-glass goddess behind them. The lights dimmed once to announce the ceremony was about to begin and I felt the crowd fill in. My heart sped up. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing deeply and concentrating on the open space in front of me. I took a half-step forward before opening my eyes so I wouldn’t be able to see anyone behind me.

  The Seven filed onto the stage from a side door, each wearing a piercing blue robe that somehow made them look both wise and regal. They took seats along the back. An old, frail woman sat in the middle. I pictured the list Mel had given me, trying to remember her name. Mandel … no, that wasn’t right. I couldn’t remember. I nudged Sasha beside me and, without turning my head, whispered to her to tell me the names. She started from the left, which was her grandfather, Norman Reynolds, a stern, jowly man with snow-white hair. Next to him was the barrel-chested George Alphonse, whom I’d met before. I remembered seeing the next guy as well. “Pasternak?” I whispered to Sasha, who hissed “yes” back in my ear. The old woman in the middle was Rita Mendez, she continued. Mendez. Right. That was the name I couldn’t think of. She was the oldest member of The Seven, Sasha told me. Bradley Jamison sat beside her, smiling as he gazed out at the gathered crowd. I shivered at the reminder of the masses behind me. On Mr. Jamison’s other side, was Marci Lee, short, dark haired, and in her mid-forties, I’d guess. She’d helped Mel back to her apartment after our last lesson, and been part of the argument I’d heard in January. It seemed odd to think of her in charge of Rothston’s investments. I’d have expected someone … more bankerly-looking, I guess. Melvina sat on the end beside her, looking calm and dignified in the blue robe.

  A hush fell over the crowd, as Rita Mendez glided to the front of the stage. She lifted her hand and spoke evenly, and her voice was magnified by speakers set throughout the room, although no microphone could be seen. She thanked the adepts of Rothston, and noted the presence of several dignitaries from other organizations.

  The speeches came next, first Tanya Sharma, the doctor from the clinic who spoke of Mel as a great leader in the genetic research of adepts as well as the clinical exploration of ways in which the physiology of adepts differs from commons. After her, George Alphonse rose, and spoke of Mel as a longtime colleague and friend during their mutual service to Rothston as members of The Seven. At the end of his speech, he asked Mel to join him at the front of the stage and presented her with a crystal statue that matched the goddess looking down on them from the window, and a huge bouquet of yellow and pink roses. She accepted them gracefully, and the room became still, as Mel handed her gifts to Marci Lee and slowly began to speak.

  I held my breath, as she thanked each member of The Seven, and George Alphonse in particular, for their years of loyalty and camaraderie. She spoke of successes and failures she’d had over her career, but after a few minutes stopped mid-sentence and looked straight into my eyes. She hesitated for a moment, appearing to have lost her train of thought. I could feel my cheeks redden with embarrassment for her. What a terrible way to end a career. But then it got worse. Without taking her eyes off me, she began to ramble, first about mice – the mouse who pulled a thorn from the lion’s paw, the mouse who roared, the one scaring an elephant, and several other references I didn’t know. I glanced back to the rest of The Seven, hoping so
meone would come to her aid. But George Alphonse appeared stunned. Mr. Jamison’s head was bowed, uncomfortable with the spectacle occurring in front of him, and Marci Lee had a frozen smile on her face, pretending it wasn’t happening. Mel switched her topic to a videogame her grandchildren had played and something about finding a mirror that showed you the truth. She finally tore her eyes away from me, and looked out over the crowd, announcing that there was no mirror, as if this was a revelation. Marci Lee finally rose and came to her assistance.

  “You’ve completed your speech,” she whispered to Mel, but it was picked up by the hidden microphones and broadcast throughout the hall. Mel resisted the attempt to guide her back to her seat, but gave up as Ms. Lee’s grip became firm on her arm. An uncomfortable shuffle spread through the room.

  Mr. Alphonse came to the front of the stage again, but my eyes were on Ms. Lee as she assisted Mel in removing her robe. Except Mel seemed to have forgotten this part of the ceremony and was clutching it back as fast as Marci could pull it away. After struggling with her for a moment, Marci finally gave a definitive tug and ripped the robe away from the older woman. Mel’s hand shot up in a blur, but the smack as her palm struck Marci’s cheek reverberated with enhanced digital clarity around the room. I stood there, aghast, wondering why no one was helping Mel through this. She needed it. I focused my adept perception on her, finding her muddled figure in the turbula. I studied her decisions for a moment, confused by what I saw. She understood exactly what she’d just done, and was deciding to apologize to Marci, to beg her forgiveness. But as she opened her mouth to speak, another path in the turbula broadened rapidly.