Fervor

by Chantal Boudreau

  Sam and Sarah joined him by the entrance. Someone had wedged something solid into the door crack and had worried at the edges until they had worked the door free of the lock. As a result, it now hung loosely on its hinges, unable to be closed properly. It creaked loudly as Elliot pulled it back.

  “Well, if there’s a welcoming committee, that may have just let them know that we’re here,” the technician muttered. He peered into the dark corridor and activated the magic to illuminate the lights there. There was a soft hiss, a flicker and then a warm glow that lit up the space before them.

  Sam held his breath. Looking at the empty hallway brought back memories that made him heartsick for the days when he had lived an innocent and uncomplicated life. He wished that he were still ignorant to what he really was and why they were on Fervor. He wished that he were still his minder’s charge and not responsible for anything more than a few small chores around the house and his performance at school. He missed that life. Now he was facing a very ambiguous future that might be spent perpetually on the run. If he had had the ability to go back in time and freeze things as they had been at that moment, that day before he woke up to the screams in his head and to Francis in his room, he would have.

  “This was your school.”

  Sarah didn’t phrase it as a question. She could see from the expression on his face. She had come from another part of Fervor, with different classrooms and teachers. Sam hunched his shoulders and shrugged, trying to pretend as if it held no greater meaning for him.

  “Where would your teachers make any repairs?” Elliot asked gruffly.

  Sam’s misery in the face of his old school made the technician horribly uncomfortable. He wanted to rush in, get the tools, and make a fast exit again, as quickly and as painlessly as possible. He did not want to seem heartless, but he did not have the patience to tolerate a dejected boy dragging his feet. Sam gestured further down the hallway.

  He led the technician through the maze of corridors that brought them, eventually, to the place where the teachers were known to store and repair various equipment, including hovers. As the dim lights came up in response to Elliot working their magic, the technician’s eyes lit up as well. He jogged into the centre of the room, and snatching up a heavy duty bag obviously intended for transporting tools, he began to scan the room for any of the items on his list. A conscientious Sarah joined him, but she began rooting through the lockers there and pulling out adult-sized work boots, and coveralls similar to Elliot’s. Distracted as they were, they did not pick up on the shifting shadows at the far end of the room. But Sam did.

  Sam guessed that the boy crouching there and watching the search had heard them come through the squeaky door and had fled ahead of them, seeking possible escape in here. He had not anticipated anyone having the ability to bring up the lights and had started when it had happened. Now his dark eyes were glued to the pair who clambered around the floor, gathering what they had come looking for, and Sam would recognize that face, framed by black hair, anywhere. It was Royce.

  The Finder froze, not knowing what to do. Their Control had clearly sought shelter here after his exile from the house. There had been some supplies to scrounge up within the school proper and when those had run out, Sam assumed that Royce had turned to scavenging the surrounding area, avoiding the house-families in the process. He would still meet with his Control friends, but in many ways he was very much alone.

  The Control observed Sarah and Elliot for a little while, awe-stricken at the sight of an adult, and then he noticed Sam. There was a gleam of recognition in his eye, and his jaw dropped. He strode immediately towards the Finder, and Sam started backing away, but he had soon edged himself right into a corner, with nowhere left to go. He stood his ground nervously at that point, until Royce was upon him.

  “How?” Royce demanded, staring Sam practically eye-to-eye.

  Royce was only a little taller than Sam was now, but at this point, not by much. The Finder was unsure if he should give an answer to the question, nor was Royce actually expecting him to, still believing him deaf. Sarah had now noticed the Control and had approached Elliot, grabbing his arm at the elbow and giving it a vigorous shake. The technician paused in mid-reach, looking up.

  Sam wondered what it had been like for the Control to live here for the past year, but it made sense that he had come. The place would give him more room than one of the abandoned smaller houses, as well as more access to potential pickings while scrounging. Royce had, after all, been originally expected to be a Finder. He had good instincts for this sort of thing.

  Faced down by the slightly larger boy, Sam felt as intimidated as ever, but the Control’s expression held far more surprise than anger or bitterness.

  “Things have changed,” Sam finally managed to splutter. “It’s difficult to explain.”

  Elliot had moved up to them by this point, his hulking form casting a shadow over Royce. The black-haired boy glanced over his shoulder nervously.

  “Is this the Control that you spoke of? The one that your Watcher ran out of the house?” the man inquired, his eyes fixed on Royce’s. The awe that Sam had noted earlier returned to Royce’s expression. Sarah looked on from a distance, rubbing unconsciously at her wrist and appearing prepared to sprint at the slightest sign of trouble. Royce turned back to Sam.

  “We’re not here to bother you, or to be bothered, Royce. We just need a few things that we can’t get anywhere else, and then we’ll go,” the Finder insisted. “We don’t want to cause you any problems.”

  “You’ve changed,” Royce blurted, his confusion reflected in his voice – a voice unfamiliar to Sam. The Control’s gaze drifted over to Sarah. “She’s changed, too. You shouldn’t be here, either of you. How can you be here? Did they come for us? Did they lift the stasis?” The Control backed away as he spoke, eying Elliot warily. “Is it over?”

  “It’s not over,” Elliot stated bluntly. “You don’t honestly expect the scholars to abandon all of their work that easily do you?” Royce was still moving backwards, and had almost reached the door.

  “They were quick enough to throw some of us away,” he spat bitterly. “I saw some of the ones that didn’t come out quite right. They were monsters...horrible mutants. How do you know that they all aren’t like that inside?” The Control gestured at Sam and Sarah as he spoke. This wasn’t going well.

  Royce’s hostile words had clearly disturbed the technician, and he gazed at the boy sympathetically, his gray eyes filled with pity. He slouched a little, not really prepared to contend with the issues that the Control was attempting to stir up.

  “The scholars wouldn’t have kept them if that were the case,” Elliot murmured. “They probably thought it necessary to study them.”

  Sarah watched Royce, wide-eyed, completely bewildered by what he was saying. The Control had never mentioned such things before.

  “They’re not right, that’s all I’m saying.” Royce added quietly. His hand reached for the door frame behind him.

  “None of this is right,” Elliot replied. In response to this, the black-haired boy made a scoffing noise before he turned and fled into some of the unlit areas of the school.

  “What did he mean by that?” Sam demanded after Royce had left. “What was it that he saw exactly, the ones who didn’t come out quite right?”

  “Not ready,” the burly man grunted, averting his gaze. He returned to his search, refusing from that point onwards to answer anymore of Sam’s questions. Sam and Sarah looked at each other and sighed.

  Emergence

  Sam, Sarah, and Elliot were heavily laden when they returned to the house. It was already twilight, and too dark to do any fixing. They had found about two-thirds of the items on their list, and they had decided that the rest could wait until the following day.

  Sam was famished, and his mind was awhirl with many thoughts. He was still stunned by their encounter with Royce and confused by the tidbits of information that they had gained from their Con
trol, as well as from the occasional slip by Elliot. They would finish the finding tomorrow, and if all went smoothly, they might even begin fixing the hover before the day would be through. Sam could not help thinking about the fact that, once his assistance was no longer needed, he would have the freedom to go wherever he wanted and do whatever he felt like doing. He was no longer bound by the Directives, and that would allow him to hunt down answers on his own.

  After storing their finds in one of the closets in the house, they all wandered into the kitchen. Francis and Nathan were already there, both fidgeting anxiously. Nathan stared at the floor, glancing up as they entered for a brief moment before quickly averting his gaze again.

  “I was hoping you might be Fiona,” he sighed, shuffling his ill-clad feet. Francis said nothing, leaning back in his chair, but Sam suspected that his feelings were the same. “She should be out soon.”

  With a stifled laugh, Sarah darted out of the kitchen. Elliot began rummaging through the cupboards, and Sam took a seat at the table with the young men.

  “Sorry to disappoint you,” Sam commented with a chuckle.

  “Don’t get me wrong, little buddy. I’m happy to see you. I’d just be even happier if you were Fiona,” Nathan confessed. “It’s about time that she comes out of her room. If she stays in there much longer, she’s bound to grow roots and meld with the furniture.”

  An excited Sarah stumbled back into the kitchen, her arms filled with some of that day’s finds. In particular, she had the boots and coveralls that they had foraged out of the school lockers.

  “A gift,” she laughed triumphantly as she slid them into Nathan’s averted line of sight. His smile broadened.

  “You are forever my angel of mercy, aren’t you, Sarah? I thank you for remembering me, and my poor mangled toes thank you, too. Where did these come from?” he inquired.

  “We got them from the school,” Sam informed him. “We had to go there to get some of the tools that Elliot needed.”

  “You mean Elliot went there to get them,” Francis said pointedly, “While you waited.”

  “No,” Sarah admitted. “We went in with him. He needed our help.”

  The Teller sat up in his chair, looking irritable. “But the Directives…they should have stopped you.”

  Sam and Sarah glanced at each other, unsure how they should respond. That was answer enough for Francis. He glared at Elliot.

  “You used the active features of the Languorite on them, without discussing it with the rest of us? What if it didn’t work the way that it was supposed to? What if there were side-effects? Wouldn’t it have been better to test it first on me, or Nathan? All the knowledge that you had was theoretical. What if you failed to apply it properly? We need Sam and Sarah far more than the rest of us. What you did was dumb and put us all at risk,” he spat.

  Nathan did not outwardly support Francis on this, but Sam suspected that behind the Watcher’s reinforced walls, he was in agreement. He had mentioned the desire to be the one to play guinea pig for the Languorite before.

  “We had a problem, and that was the most obvious solution. You may consider yourself the ruler of this roost, but you don’t get to dictate my actions, Teller. I refuse to be a part of your power trip,” the technician growled, standing to his full height to add impact to his words.

  A strange look settled upon Francis’s face, and he stared at Elliot intently.

  “It’s not that simple anymore,” he murmured. The push was gentle, but with such focus that it almost overwhelmed Elliot immediately. “You are part of the connection now. The old rules don’t apply. You do not do anything to any member of my house-family without my express permission. I dictate what I choose, and like it or not, you will oblige me. Don’t test me, or I’ll show you exactly what I’m capable of. You are in our world while you are on Fervor. Any power that you had you left behind on the mainland.”

  “You don’t speak for everyone here, Teller,” Elliot retorted, trying to maintain his composure despite the mental assault from Francis. “I was doing what we deemed best for repairing my hover, and Sam and Sarah were agreeable to it. There was no harm done.”

  “You are wrong,” Francis insisted, his jaw set. “I do speak for everyone here as long as I am Teller. If I decide that you won’t be going anywhere in that hover, your work on it is done. If I decide that I don’t want you using the Languorite on them again, and that it is mine to possess, then that is how it will be. If I decide that you aren’t according me the respect that I deserve and want you out of this house, you will be gathering your things and walking out that door.”

  Sam was shaken, a ball of despair building in his stomach. He could understand why Elliot would want to challenge Francis, but they really were dependent on the Teller going along with their plan. Even if Francis was not in control of their situation, they had to make him feel that he was or he might seize that control. He could shut them down with a few words, and Elliot had not had the opportunity to see Francis demonstrate that ability to the extent that the rest of the house-family had. He had to offer a distraction, to end their dispute before they all regretted it.

  “Royce was there,” he piped up, hoping this would catch Francis’s attention. “He has been living at the school. He saw us.”

  Sam’s tactic worked like a charm. Francis abandoned his confrontation with the technician instantly and jumped on the fact that they had stumbled upon their errant Control. The Teller bombarded Sam with questions.

  “Royce? Really? Were his friends there, too? How did he look? What did he say?”

  “We got to see him up close, and we spoke with him as well, so I’m sure that it was him, and he doesn’t seem to be in bad shape. I think he’s surviving quite well there,” the boy answered. “I don’t know about his friends. He was the only one that was there...but he saw Elliot. He got a good look at me and Sarah, too. He could see something strange was going on. He asked a lot of questions.”

  “The school...hmm. That would make sense. He didn’t try anything, did he?” the Teller inquired.

  Elliot had already let the earlier issue slide, since Francis was no longer interested in pursuing it. The technician had chosen instead to ignore them and began rummaging through the cupboards.

  “No,” Sarah replied. “But he said something…some-thing that made us think that the Controls, and maybe the Tellers, knew more about us Littles than we did. It sounded like he knew some of the things we have been trying to get Elliot to tell us, but that he has refused to share with us so far. I was almost tempted to follow Royce when he ran off and see if he would give me more answers.”

  Elliot paused in his shuffling, but did not turn to look at her.

  “Royce wouldn’t pull any punches,” Sam agreed. “If he was willing to tell us, he wouldn’t worry about whether or not we were ‘ready’. He wouldn’t consider whether or not we would find it too shocking. He would just tell us the truth. That’s all we’re asking for. That’s all we ever asked for, and that includes from you too, Francis.”

  The Teller scowled at this comment and Elliot hung his head, sighing.

  “If it’s that important to you, then why don’t you just pry into his thoughts the same way that you clearly did with mine when we first met. It’s not like he can stop you. His walls are much weaker than mine were at the time. No? The notion hadn’t crossed your minds?” Francis’s thoughts dripped with sarcasm. “Maybe you just respect him and his privacy more than you ever respected me and mine. Or you just happen to believe that he is withholding information to protect you, but that obviously wasn’t the case with me? Somehow I managed to master the unknown skill of lying through the connection.”

  Sam gave him a sheepish look and Sarah blushed a bright red, entwining her fingers nervously. Francis was about to proceed with a second tirade when the kitchen door opened. Fiona stepped in.

  Everything that had been happening ceased to happen immediately. Elliot glanced over his shoulder at the sudden silence and gave
Fiona a broad smile. Sam was wondering what all the fuss had been about. It was still Fiona, only she looked much more like Maria. She was taller than his minder had been, and perhaps a little curvier with paler skin, but she certainly was not the vile creature that he had been imagining. He could not understand then why Francis and Nathan’s reaction to her seemed much more extreme.

  Nathan normally would not have looked at her at all, but he was already on edge because of all the arguing and posturing that had been going on in the kitchen, not to mention the discussion of Royce, and she had entered with no warning. His protective compulsion overrode Francis’s directions and he leapt to his feet with his gaze quickly focussed on the intruder. As soon as he recognized that it was Fiona, he averted his eyes, but not before his breath caught in his throat and his cheeks flushed in response to the sight of her. All she noticed, however, was how quickly that he had looked away. Her expression fell, and she tried to cover herself with her arms in a very self-conscious gesture. She also moved to step out of the kitchen until Francis spoke up. He had gotten to his feet as well, and was staring at her, his mouth slightly open.

  “No! Don’t go back in your room!”

  She came to an abrupt halt.

  “He only turned away because he’s following orders. For our own safety, he’s not supposed to look at any of us. He’s not even allowed to look at his own reflection. He didn’t turn away because of you specifically, Fiona. From what I can see, you look wonderful. The change suits you, I promise.”

  “He’s right, Fiona.” Nathan said quietly, allowing those gathered in the room into his thick and otherwise unyielding walls. “I’d gaze at you all night if I could. You look incredible. The change does suit you.”

  He beamed a wide grin in her general direction, keeping his eyes on the opposite wall. Sam rolled his eyes at this, and Sarah muffled a giggle with her hand