by Sarah Noffke
“Don’t make this about us,” Trey says, sweeping his hands through his silver hair.
Lucky for me, I have multiple angles I get to play here. “Who says I am?” I say, careful to keep my eyes off Aiden. “And if Chase wanted to hurt me, he would have. So far all he’s done is the exact opposite.”
“He’s deceiving you. He can’t be trusted,” Trey says, his voice climbing.
“By that rule,” I say, my tone even, “neither can you. Or anyone else in this room.”
For the first time Aiden’s eyes meet mine, a quiet protest in them. In that one look I know he’s begging me to back down, not drop these subtle hints about us. To make everything easier right now by being compliant.
“Aiden informs us that you’ve had dreams recently which were invaded by Chase. Is that right?” Trey says.
Whatever Aiden was begging for with his penetrating gaze has just been lost. My eyes, still locked on his, narrow. “That’s correct,” I answer like a robot.
“Roya, you really should have confided this in me,” Trey says, sounding exasperated.
“Really? Because there are about a dozen things I can say the same of you, Dad.” I spew the last word with an angry inflection.
“This is not about us. It’s about your safety.” Trey turns to Ren. “What do you make of Chase invading her dreams? Is there something we can do to stop him?”
Ren shrugs indifferently. “Honestly, I think she might be screwed, especially with that kind of attitude,” he says, scrunching up his nose. “If you’re not careful, Little Miss Hothead, you’re going to find yourself literally screwed.”
“Ren,” Trey says in a reprimanding tone.
“Oh, all right.” He waves his hand dismissively at Trey. Why the hell does my father even employ this redheaded jerk? What the hell kind of leverage does he have over him? “Obviously Chase is using the emotional modifier, coupled with dream invasion. A two-pronged approach that will be treacherously difficult to combat.”
“Thanks for the optimism,” I say.
“Isn’t there something we can do to stop him?” Trey says, his eyes fixed on Ren. “Something else besides Aiden creating a patch for Roya’s protective charm to guard against the modifier?”
“Tell you what, I’ll give it a go and see if I can find a strategy that might work,” Ren says.
“Thank you.” Trey turns his attention back on me. “Right now I need you to tell us exactly what Chase said and did tonight so we know how much progress he’s made with the emotional modifier, which I know is to blame for everything that’s occurred between you and him.”
I exaggerate a long yawn. “Glad to know you don’t believe I’d be willing to fall for a murderer. What a blessed relief.”
“Enough with the antics,” Trey says, obviously annoyed. “Tell us what happened.”
I have him exactly where I want him. And Aiden and Ren too, judging by their faces. “Well, Trey, I’m not going to give you a play-by-play. Some things have to remain private,” I say, flashing a look at Aiden. “Anyway, Chase said he wouldn’t hesitate to maim and kill the entire world, but that he’d never harm me.” I lean back in my chair, flick a rogue piece of hair off my shoulder. “Isn’t that funny? Because it sounds like I’m not the one who should be worried for my safety, but the rest of you should probably think about protecting yourselves.”
“This isn’t a game. This is serious,” Trey says, looking uncomfortable as he readjusts himself in his chair.
This is my cue to stretch out my arms and stare around casually. I’ve learned this technique from Ren and I can tell he’s appreciating it as he stares at me with a brooding look. I wink and slouch in my chair before turning to Trey. “Well, that’s pretty much all that happened. What do you think?”
“I think you’ve left out a great deal of detail,” Trey says.
I rock my head back and forth, shrug.
Taking a steadying breath, Trey revolves in Aiden’s direction. “Since Roya isn’t going to be forthcoming with information, based on the report we received from Joseph, how close do you think Chase is to perfecting the modifier?”
“I think he’s fairly close,” Aiden says, eyes fixed on the blank notepad in front of him. “But I’ll need more info first. Roya, I need you to answer a few questions and only you can,” he says, looking up at me, his voice so unlike the one I’m used to. “When you were around Chase, were you able to resist him?”
“At first,” I chirp.
“But then what happened?” Aiden asks.
“Do you mean at which point did my logic give way and I found myself inexplicably making out with him? Is that what you mean?”
Aiden presses his lips together. “I only meant, at what point did your logic recede,” he says, a firmness in his voice.
“Oh, well, it was about thirty seconds after he forced himself onto me,” I say, staring at my fingernails like the current conversation isn’t worth my full attention.
Aiden removes his glasses and wipes them off on his shirt. He may think this hides his disgust, but he’s wrong. I can more easily see the flames burning in his eyes with his glasses off. “Now that you’re not with Chase,” he says, “how do you specifically feel about him?”
Staring directly at Aiden, I taper my eyes but remain silent. A full ten seconds tick by.
“Do you feel like you love him?” the Head Scientist asks.
I tilt my head slightly, eyes still locked on Aiden’s.
“Roya, answer the question,” Trey commands.
“Why don’t you go ahead and deduce the answer from my silence,” I say, cracking my knuckles.
“For God’s sake, Roya, this isn’t a game. You could get hurt,” Trey says, a punishing tone in his voice.
“We’ve already established that Chase doesn’t want to hurt me,” I say, feigning innocence.
“What he wants from you isn’t going to hurt you in the beginning,” Trey says through clenched teeth. “But believe me when I say it will kill you emotionally in the end.”
“What?! You know why he’s after me?” I ask, my attention suddenly ripped from the act I’ve been playing. “You told me you’d inform me once you knew.”
Trey thrusts his fingers through his silver hair and doesn’t make eye contact with me. “Currently, I don’t think you need that information.”
White-hot anger engulfs me. At my back I sense a breeze stirring. “Trey!” I hear myself boom. “Why is it I’m only on a need-to-know basis with you? How can you keep so much from me?”
Trey’s already shaking his head before I finish speaking. “Knowledge isn’t always power. You should know that by now. Everything you know changes you. Not only that, but it can hold you hostage. Look at you now. You’re already consumed by emotions since you found out I was your father. This isn’t a productive use of your energy. I fear that any more information will just overwhelm you and right now we need you focused.”
“So let me get this straight,” I say in a measured voice. “Chase orchestrated this huge mess. He had Aiden abducted so he could get to the plans for the modifier. He’s responsible for Pearl’s death and now he’s stalking me by night. And you’re not going to tell me why? That’s ridiculous!” My attention shoots to Aiden and Ren. “Let me guess, you both know, don’t you?”
Ren nods curtly, a pleased grin on his face. Beside him Aiden shakes his head, giving me a pointed stare.
“Well, it’s not like you’d tell me if you did,” I say, staring straight into Aiden’s cold, blue eyes. “Not if Trey forbid you, right?” I fix my anger on Trey again. “Isn’t it nice to know you have such loyal lemmings?”
“Roya,” Trey cautions. “This is not productive.”
“This is all your fault,” I say, ignoring his attempts to control my behavior.
“It’s not.”
“Oh really? Well, if you hadn’t ordered your employees to build an emotional modifier, Chase wouldn’t have the technology. Maybe consider that the next time you sa
nction some evil device, huh?”
He takes a long breath, nostrils flaring. I’ve never seen him so angry, not even when he exploded at Joseph for reviving Zhuang. This rage is worse because it’s quiet, boiling inside. I’m well acquainted with that type of fuming. It burns you from the inside out. “If you’re dream traveling,” Trey says, taking each word one at a time, “and Chase shows up, you must leave. If you’re sleeping and he invades your dream I order you to wake up. Is that clear?” Trey says, his tone deliberate.
“Is that order coming from you as my father or as the Head of the Institute?”
“It shouldn’t matter.”
“Well, I don’t have to listen to either person,” I say, feeling like a selfish child, but I can’t help it. My heart is kerosene, my mind a match. I’m seconds away from igniting.
“Damn it, Roya, this isn’t a game! Don’t you get that?”
“What I don’t get is why you won’t tell me the reason Chase is after me. Tell me what he wants. I deserve to know.”
Surrender darkens my father’s face. He places his forehead in his hand. Takes a long breath. When his eyes meet mine I’m struck by the familiarity. His eyes are the exact same color as Joseph’s. As mine. A chill runs down my back. The pang which precedes tears rolls through my chest. In that fleeting moment we share a pain, one which serves to obliterate my rebellion. I don’t want to hurt Trey, not like I’m doing. All I want is the one thing he owes me: the truth.
He shakes his head, seeming to recharge his motivation. “You have to believe me when I say I’m trying to protect you. Knowing everything will make your life worse, just the same way that you’re tortured now that you know I’m your father. Save yourself this heartache…please,” Trey pleads, a cruel self-loathing in his voice.
“Look, Trey,” I begin. “Keeping the truth from me is the only thing that’s ever broken my heart. You may think you’re protecting me, but you’re not. I’m not a child. Give me a chance to decide what I can handle.”
With a deliberate shake of his head, he averts his eyes. “No, my decision is final.”
And the match is lit. The fire ignites. Fast burning. “You know what? That’s fine,” I say in a quick rush. Jerking to a standing position, I lean across the table, hovering there until he meets my gaze. “Don’t tell me. Delude yourself into thinking you’re protecting me. Meanwhile I’m going to find Chase and ask him directly.”
His eyes widen with sudden horror. I don’t catch anymore of his expression of disbelief because I pivot and stride to the exit.
“Roya! Roya! No! Get back here now!” Trey yells at my retreating back, desperation in every word. My threat isn’t empty either. I have every intention of finding Chase.
Chapter Eleven
The sun has risen in the real world, where Middlings worry about love or whether their dreams will ever come true. How similar and devastatingly different we are as races. The Tao offers only riddles to my problems so I abandon it for the Collected Works of Carl Jung. After a night of drama and little rest, his words should confound my troubled mind. In reality, every sentence flows into the next creating a beautiful volley of questions and answers, insights and interpretations. The continuity of his words feels like it’s begging me to keep reading, like hidden somewhere within the passages I’ll find the clues I’m looking for. The one great truth which quells the fires within me.
The second knock that morning sounds at my door. I don’t jump this time. Actually, I’ve been expecting him. I ready my angry expression, take a breath, and say, “Come in,” through clenched teeth.
The door “shushes” as it slides back.
“Do you always just let anyone stroll into your room?” George says, coming around the corner.
I sit up in my bed with sudden surprise. “Oh, it’s you. I was expecting Joseph,” I say, letting my head fall back on the headboard, a tiny bit of relief oozing out of me with a sigh.
“Are you mad at him? Is that why your emotions are so strong?” George says, standing at the foot of my bed, regarding me with a sensitive look.
“Is that why you came by?” I ask, tossing the iPad to the side.
“Yes,” he says a bit sheepishly. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“I have crucified you too many times for being sensitive to my emotions, haven’t I? You apologize almost every time you worry about my well-being,” I say. “Most people would be grateful to have someone who cares like you do.”
“Our situation is different from most people’s,” George says, his eyes heavy like he hasn’t slept most of the night either. “I don’t blame you for sometimes trying to have some emotional privacy.”
“Well, I think it’s only fair if I return the favor and ask after you. You look exhausted. Is everything all right?”
George yawns, his eyes closing for a second like he’s about to pass out right here. “Yes, I’m fine. I want to know about you. Is it Joseph who has you so upset? I’ve felt a hurricane of emotion from you the last hour.”
“I’ll tell you all about it, but you have to do something for me first,” I say, moving over to the other side of the bed.
“Anything,” he says, swaying a little.
“Come lie down here,” I say, patting the bed. “You look like you’re going to fall over.” George’s eyes slide to the bed and back to me. “Oh, get over here before I drag you onto this bed,” I threaten.
A sly smile curls his mouth up slightly, but still he’s too tired for it to light up the rest of his face. Sluggishly he takes the spot next to me. I hand him an extra pillow. He grabs it, propping himself up.
“Now tell me first why you look like a zombie,” I say. “Have you been off resurrecting ancient villains, because if so––”
A tired chuckle falls out of George’s mouth. He closes his eyes and for a second I think he’s fallen asleep.
“George?”
“No villains,” he says, opening his brown eyes and turning his face to me. “I dream traveled last night to watch da Vinci paint the Mona Lisa.”
“Oh. Is that all that has you looking so tired?”
“Yes,” he says, an edge to his voice. “How did you spend that entire night following Bruce Lee around? I’m exhausted and couldn’t manage competing right now, like you did after the fact.”
“Well, dream traveling in the past is taxing and the further back you go the more draining it can become. The Mona Lisa was painted in the sixteenth century too. There’s a reason we can’t go back and see the birth of Christ, you know…it could kill us. What were you thinking going back that far?”
“I was thinking I wanted to see one of the world’s greatest histories being made,” he says, a meaningful look in his eyes.
“And…how was it?”
“Anticlimactic and not worth all the effort,” he says, his voice scratchy. “Watching a painter create is like watching Hemingway write: it’s all introspective until it’s complete. Even when the Mona Lisa was done there wasn’t any glamorous payoff. I see the painting as genius, but back then the momentum was slow to build. I realize how so many great artists and writers go crazy. They must always expect something exhilarating when they complete their work only to be stared at with long glances and indecision as the masses make their judgments. It must slowly kill them inside to know they are constantly under the scrutiny of the world.”
As usual, when George makes a thoughtful insight, I find my mind suddenly charged. A new inspiration takes residence in my heart. “How did da Vinci feel afterwards?”
“You know I can’t expose other people’s emotions,” he says, tucking his hands under his head, suppressing a smile.
“Unless we’re training to face a madman, right?”
“Exactly,” he says, humor in his voice.
I don’t throw in his face that he recently told me when Aiden was jealous. This rule has never applied to the Head Scientist, not when it’s worked in George’s favor. “Fine, don’t tell me,” I say, pushing him slightly with
my fingertips. “But you’re going to have to let it all spill if we find out daVinci is an evil villain we have to take out.”
Another smile. “He wasn’t evil, but he was a Dream Traveler.”
“Figures,” I say. “All the greats are.”
“All right, your turn,” George says. “I actually would have just returned from my dream travels and gone to sleep, but when I got back I was assaulted by your feelings. You’ve had some pretty exhilarating emotions, but never before have I felt that much from you.”
“More than when I found out that the Head Asshole of this place was my father?”
“Yeah, more than then.”
“Seriously, you look like you’re about to faint with exhaustion. Why don’t I tell you later?” I say.
“Roya,” he reprimands in that way he does that I half enjoy.
“Why is it that people keep using my name to scold me?”
“If you don’t want to tell me––”
I wave him off. “There’s no one else I do want to tell,” I say, sliding down so our heads are a bit more even. I tell George what happened, omitting the fact that I made out with Chase. I more or less make it sound like he cornered me and then Joseph swooped in to the rescue. I explain that Trey is once again keeping secrets regarding my personal life.
“I told him I was going to find Chase and ask him directly. I’m fairly certain I’ve been grounded for my outburst.” I laugh.
“You’re not being serious, are you? You can’t go seeking Chase.”
“I actually am. Chase won’t hurt me,” I say and immediately regret it.
George graces me with a single punishing glare before returning to staring at the ceiling. “Honestly, Roya, sometimes you’re too impulsive. Chase is dangerous.”
“I know. It’s just that I need the truth. I don’t know how else to find out and the whole thing is driving me crazy.”
“I sense that,” George says in a restrained tone. He lays his arm over his eyes like the dim lighting of my room is hurting him. “At least you’re feeling better than you were when I first woke up.”