“Are you going to say anything?” Carson asked, eyes still flashing.
“Hey, buddy, keep your voice down,” Travis leaned over the bar and hissed.
Carson shot him a look, then cursed under his breath. “Nida?” he asked through gritted teeth.
Everyone in the room had now stopped what they were doing to stare at the show.
Suddenly the low lighting behind the bar couldn’t hide her any more., and she felt completely exposed.
She backed off. Without a word, she jogged towards the door behind the bar, opened it, and ran through.
He was hot on her heels.
So were Travis and Alicia.
There was a long dark hallway that branched off into various rooms, and she kept striding down it until Carson actually grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back.
A flood of emotion followed his move as she realised she couldn’t run from him.
“What are you doing?” he snapped again.
She put her hands up, hating the fact tears started to well in her eyes.
“Hey, Carson, calm down. Just let her speak,” Travis waded forward, putting a hand on Carson’s arm.
She didn’t want to speak.
She wanted to get the hell out of here.
This had been a monumental mistake.
Then again, it had all been fine until Carson had showed up.
But before she could transfer her anger onto him, she had to remind herself she had begged him to take her to the hospital, only to leave him in the lurch afterwards.
She swallowed, or at least she tried to. Her mouth was so dry it felt as if she’d inhaled a whole desert planet.
“Nothing happened at the hospital,” she finally managed, her voice weaker than it had ever been, “they told me it was all in my head. So I . . . ,” she trailed off, not wanting to tell Carson she’d forgotten about him completely.
“So you went out, rather than going straight back to bed. Then you breached Academy rules by taking off your wristwatch,” Carson’s words were bitter and sharp.
“I didn’t take it off,” Nida tried to defend herself, her already flushed cheeks becoming redder with every word. “It must have fallen off.”
“They don’t fall off,” Carson spat. “They’re designed to stay on, no matter what.”
“I didn’t take it off,” she replied, voice shaking with anger.
Carson took a step back, swearing into his hand as he half covered his face. “Of course you didn’t.”
His tone got to her.
He clearly didn’t believe her.
In fact, as she cast her glance at Travis and Alicia, she realised they didn’t believe her either. They were staring at her with a mix of worry and surprise. And why wouldn’t they be? Even the freshest cadets knew wristwatches couldn’t fall off.
. . . .
Yet hers had.
She hadn’t taken it off.
Suddenly she felt alone, completely alone.
Nobody believed her. Because what was happening to her didn’t make sense.
The dreams, the watch.
And the blue light.
She shivered. It was a full-bodied move, more like a violent twitch.
She watched Carson’s already worried glare intensify. “You need to go back to your apartment,” he lowered his voice, the anger and frustration lessening.
He went to reach a hand out to her, but she jerked back.
She didn’t want to be touched.
Because she knew instinctively her skin was as cold as stone.
She could feel it again. The prickles jabbing their way up her wrist from her left hand.
They felt crippling.
Each tingle felt like a blade of ice stabbing harder into her flesh.
Then they reached her bloodstream, and in a surge travelled up her arm and into the point below her throat, exactly where her implant sat.
She screamed, clutching at the implant with her good hand.
It pulsed, throbbing with a vicious, cold power.
“Nida,” Carson skidded to his knees just as she fell to hers.
She couldn’t breathe. She could hear herself trying to inhale, but all she could do was wheeze.
“Jesus, she’s cold,” she heard Carson spit.
Then she felt it.
A surge.
Like a wave.
Coming straight at her.
She froze, just as Carson ignored her icy touch to bring his arm around her shoulders.
Something clanged in a room to her side.
Then with a thump, thump, thump, it rolled towards the door.
Everyone in the corridor looked up to see a thin, metal pole roll into view.
Even though the pain still ate into her chest, and Carson still had an arm collapsed around her, they both looked up to see the pole tumble towards them.
There was a moment of silence, sweet and quick, before the pole started to vibrate.
“What the hell?” Travis began.
Then the pole shot forward, straight at Nida.
Carson threw his arm to the side, his hand lighting up with the glow of his implant.
He caught the pole, and brought it to a stop less than a centimetre from her throat.
She let out a silent scream, opening her mouth wide, but unable to force anything out.
Carson grunted as he tried to pull the pole back. “Travis,” he screamed.
Travis dashed forward, grabbing the pole behind Carson.
It was happening again.
. . . .
It was happening again.
The pole was a special kind of telekinetic device; she could tell from the unique stamp all TI devices had.
“God,” Travis groaned as both he and Carson were dragged forward.
She couldn’t do anything.
She simply sat there and stared at the tip of the pole several centimetres from her throat.
“Don’t just sit there, move,” Alicia screamed as she latched a hand on Nida’s shoulder and gently shifted her along the wall until the pole no longer pinned her to it.
As soon as Nida stood, the pole shifted to face her. With Carson and Travis still holding onto it, they too were moved around, their boots squeaking against the floor.
“Get her out of here,” Carson choked through his words, “go.”
Alicia grabbed Nida’s arm and tugged her back towards the bar.
“It’s her implant,” Carson called after them. “Turn it off. Turn off the implant.”
Alicia pulled her forwards. She opened the door to the bar and shoved Nida through.
Nida lost her balance, falling to the floor as fear washed through her.
She couldn’t feel her body any more. Only the cold, stone-like sensation.
“Get up,” Alicia screamed as she barrelled through the door, grabbed Nida, and shoved her against the bar.
Nida could hardly move her limbs, but somehow she turned and scrambled up the bar. Rolling over it, she fell off the other side, hitting the floor with a thump.
The whole room stared at her. Then Alicia powered over the bar, grabbed Nida up, and shoved her in the back. “Clear the room,” she bellowed, “there’s been an accident. Get out now.”
Though Alicia was not senior enough to be ordering anyone around, it didn’t matter; everyone moved.
And to help matters along, there was a sudden resounding bang, as something struck the door behind the bar.
The pole.
With a horrified gasp, Nida saw the thing start to protrude through the closed doors.
It was an exact replay of what had happened to her several days before.
“Come on,” Alicia screamed in her ear as she shoved her forward. “We have to get you somewhere safe to turn off that implant.”
The implant.
It felt . . . like it was crumbling inside her.
The cold from her arm continued to sink into it. Only the pressure of the situation kept her running forward rather than crumpl
ing to her knees in terrified agony.
Alicia shoved her out of the main door to the bar.
As Nida barrelled through it, she was met with a blast of night air.
It was cool, and there was a tang of the sea mingling with the sweet scents of food.
She had no time to enjoy it.
People were rushing around, understandably freaked out, all asking Alicia what the hell was going on.
Without a word to any of them, she grabbed Nida by the arm and led her down the side of the building to a small square. It had several benches and two lovely ash trees.
She’d come here once or twice, but not recently, considering this was the favourite haunt of the E Club.
Alicia kept checking over her shoulder.
Reaching one of the park benches, she shoved Nida down, then, with two hands on Nida’s collar, Alicia ripped it open to get to the implant.
Alicia gasped, her forehead disappearing under her thick, stylish fringe. “What the hell is that?”
Nida paled. Then she mustered the courage to look down.
It was blue.
Her implant was pulsing blue.
It wasn’t a dream. She could see it, and so could Alicia apparently.
With a stiff, steadying breath, Alicia brought up her trembling hands and tried to touch the implant.
She couldn’t.
Something rebuffed her.
An invisible force of some kind.
Alicia tried again, but as her hand neared the implant, it slowed down, as if encountering heightened gravity.
With a gasp, she gave up and stepped back.
“What the . . . hell is going on?” she shook her head and took another step back.
Then there was a bang from the club behind them.
It was so loud, that it shook the ground. It almost sounded as if one of the walls had fallen down, and with a shot of panic, Nida realised one probably had.
Somehow, she was attracting that TI pole towards her. Somehow, her implant was malfunctioning.
If she didn’t shut it down . . . .
“What the hell do I do?” Alicia rocked back on her feet, jerking her head towards the club as another bang shook the ground.
Nida didn’t have an answer.
She felt cold.
Bone cold.
It was as if her blood had been replaced with the frozen expanse of space.
She started to fall backwards. No, that wasn’t right; she was still sitting on the bench. But somehow, she felt as if her body was pitching into a void.
“Nida,” Alicia rushed forward and grabbed Nida’s hand, then she let it go with a yelp. “Nida, Nida,” she kept calling.
Nida didn’t answer. Instead, she watched as visions started to spread through her mind like wildfire. She would see patches of the planet, then a flash of the blue energy infesting her hand, then finally the statue.
Yes, the statue. She could remember it now.
“Nida,” she heard Alicia call one final time.
Then Nida blacked out.
She dreamt, almost immediately. The scraps of visions became a whole.
She was standing back on the planet, staring at the dust under her feet.
Except it wasn’t dust.
It was buildings, plants, and people that had been crushed under the force of immense power.
She stared at the dust, watching the wind push it against her bare feet and legs.
As each speck drifted past her, she could see trapped within it the history of a tree or a house or a flower or a child.
She stumbled to her knees. She pushed her hands into the dust and brought it up to her face.
As she stared, she understood.
She’d done this.
She had caused this destruction.
The energy in her hand . . . .
It was responsible.
Nida screamed, but there was no one to hear. She cried too, but she could not even feel the tears trickling down her numb cheeks.
All she could do was stare at the destruction she had wrought and that which was yet to come.
Chapter 18
Carson Blake
He stood there and he tried to understand.
He couldn’t.
He couldn’t understand how this had happened. He couldn’t understand how no one had stepped in to stop it. He couldn’t understand how no one had figured out what was wrong.
But more than anything, he couldn’t understand why he’d been so slow.
Something was wrong with Cadet Nida Harper, very wrong.
As he stood over her, staring down at her comatose body, guilt crawled up his spine, burning up his ego as it went.
He was meant to be a hero. He was meant to be head of the freaking Force, yet he'd been unable to do anything for her.
He was a so-called master of the telekinetic implant, yet he’d been unable to stop that pole.
In fact, the only thing that had stopped its indomitable attack was Nida falling unconscious.
And unconscious she remained as an entire team of medical personnel fussed around her as she was prepped to be loaded onto a transport.
Occasionally doctors snapped at him to stand back, but he just snapped he was going to keep standing right here.
He couldn’t shift away. He couldn’t move from her side. He just knew if he did, another TI object would come shooting her way, and he had to be here to catch it.
“Come on, Carson, it’s not your fault,” Travis said in a tired, gravelly voice.
Carson didn’t turn.
“She’s in good hands now. Come on, they’ll figure out what’s going on,” Travis said, but the note of confusion and uncertainty shifting through his tone was undeniable.
“Right,” Carson managed.
“They’ll have everyone working on it,” Travis tried again.
“Yeah,” Carson mumbled.
“It wasn’t your fault,” someone else said. It wasn’t Travis; it was Alicia.
Carson finally turned to face her.
She looked shocked; her eyes were hooded, her gaze glassy as she stared at the medical transport. It was parked off towards the side of the square.
Carson couldn’t say anything; he simply stared at Alicia, and when that became too uncomfortable, he pushed off and started walking around the square.
TIs didn’t just malfunction, certainly not twice.
What was happening to her?
“They’ll be able to remove it, right?” Alicia stepped forward, her gaze pleading.
“Remove what?” he wasn’t following.
“The implant. They’ll be able to get passed that . . . blue energy and remove it.”
Carson pressed his lips together and shot a look at Travis.
Alicia had been the only person with Nida when she had passed out. Alicia claimed to have seen some kind of blue energy building up in Nida’s implant. It sounded outlandish and implausible.
“We’ll just let the doctors and technicians figure it out,” Travis suggested diplomatically.
Alicia turned on him sharply. Her usual fiery determination flared in her eyes. “You don’t believe me? What, you just think I’m stressed too? I’m telling you what I saw. There was some kind of energy building up in her implant, and it forced me back when I tried to touch it.”
“We know what you said,” Travis tried.
“No, what I saw,” Alicia corrected angrily.
“Look, we’re all tired,” Travis smiled at her carefully, “and we have no idea what happened. We’ve just got to wait for the doctors to figure it out.”
Alicia crossed her arms and stared at him stonily. “She was freezing,” she pointed out through a stutter.
“What?” Travis shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“Nida. I could barely touch her. It felt like I was shoving my hand into deep space.”
Carson let his arms drop loosely by his sides as a chill escaped over his back. “I felt it too.”
Alicia looked up sharply. Though at first she had a challenging glint to her gaze, it soon mellowed. “So what the hell does it mean? Humans shouldn’t feel that cold.”
“What are you two talking about?” Travis looked between them both, and though it was clear he wanted to keep his objective mindset, the edge to his jaw steadily slackened. Then he swallowed. “Maybe she was just . . . sick.”
Both Carson and Alicia shook their heads at the same time.
“No,” Carson practically whispered, his voice hoarse and croaky. “No, this was freezing.”
“Come on, man, that’s not possible,” Travis tried.
“You mean like it’s not possible for a TI to malfunction, let alone twice? And how, in god’s name, did it generate enough power to pull that weapon towards it? Nida doesn’t have that kind of power, and an implant is only as strong as the wearer is. No, something is happening here,” Carson turned his head, watching the medical transport as it finally took off, hovered over the ground for a few seconds, then shot up into the night sky. Its downdraught rustled the two trees of the square, sending a few leaves scattering down. Two of them dashed against Carson’s boots.
“She’s been screaming in her sleep,” Alicia suddenly said, her voice distant and cold.
Every hair on Carson’s back stood on end. “What?”
“I just put it down to the stress. She said she’s been having nightmares,” Alicia stared at her hands as she answered.
For the usually confident, if sometimes-arrogant woman, she now looked wracked with guilt.
It was an emotion Carson could identify, as it now crippled him.
He’d done so many things wrong. And the worst, above all, was not asking her sooner what exactly had happened on Remus 12.
Because this all went back to Remus 12, didn’t it?
“The doctors have checked her multiple times though, right?” Travis tried, his usually confident demeanour wavering. In fact, he looked ten years younger, all authority gone as his shoulders crumpled in and he stared at Carson from under a heavy brow.
“Yeah,” Carson forced himself to answer, “but maybe they didn’t know what they were looking for. And maybe I should have tried harder to force them to see something was wrong.”
Alicia sighed. It was a tight, clearly aggravated move. “It’s not your fault,” she snapped. “God, if it’s anyone’s, it’s mine. She’s my freaking flat mate, and I should have been keeping an eye on her. Instead I invited her to this stupid function.”
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